The Natural History of Us (The Fine Art of Pretending #2)

What was it about the night? The dark always made things appear so much bigger, so much more intense. This was the first time I’d really stopped moving or thinking since I’d concocted my plan at Justin’s house, and now that I had, I realized I was terrified.

I was about to be alone with Justin for four whole days. No Diamond Dolls, no watchful teammates or lunch room politics. Just me, the boy I was falling for, and my well-meaning, overprotective parents… who might have had a hint, but really no clue just how much he meant to me.

I closed my eyes and rested my head against the post.

Would anything happen while he was here? Did I want anything to happen? The tickle low in my belly screamed yes, especially when it came to more earth-shattering kisses, but there were things… tons of other things… still yet to be explored. I may’ve been sheltered for a large part of my life, but I wasn’t dumb. I watched television, listened to conversations in the bathroom. Swiped Mama’s books when she wasn’t paying attention. Curiosity was a living, breathing thing, and intuitively, I knew Justin would be up for anything. Did I dare go for it?

Do what scares you.

My motto hadn’t failed me yet, in fact, it had done just the opposite. It brought me my first kiss, my first secret boyfriend, and more excitement and hope than I’d ever felt before. The nervousness in my gut was like a beacon, leading the way. And it was steering me now.

Behind me, the door closed with a muffled thump and goose bumps erupted at the sound of heavy footsteps drawing near. Funny how I didn’t need to look to know it was him. My body had become a Justin Carter tracking system.

Alert, alert! Severe hottie approaching! Batten down the hatches and gird your loins!

“Ready?” he asked, voice low and at my ear. I had the sudden urge to lean back against him. Feel the strength of his body against mine. But fifteen years with my parents taught me that they were watching, so I restrained myself and turned to face him.

“Are you?”

Under the soft light from the moon and distant flood lamp near the barn, Justin looked different. Less guarded, more relaxed. The ghosts that haunted his eyes earlier were gone, replaced with more of that wicked smoldering I’d seen once before.

“I’m always ready,” he said in reply, and the left side of his mouth kicked up in a devilish smirk. Suddenly, the porch light flicked on, bathing us both in bright yellow light like a spotlight. My shoulders shook with a whine.

Justin chuckled, which only made me want to kiss him more. “Don’t worry, we’ll find a way to be alone. I can be creative when I need to be,” he promised. “Plus, I hear doghouses are total aphrodisiacs.”

I laughed aloud, even as a small shiver ran down my spine. Thus was the power of Justin Carter. I looked into his eyes and said, “With you there, hell yeah they are.”

I think I surprised him.

I know I surprised myself.

My mouth fell open, and his trademark smirk transformed into a full-fledged grin. Evidently, I was getting better at this whole flirting thing.

As his eyes grazed over my face, almost reverently, like he was memorizing every detail, I couldn’t help wondering what it was that he saw.

Justin shook his head and stepped back, making a production of it like if he didn’t, he’d ravage me on the spot. Promises, promises. “I swear to God, woman,” he said, his voice low and thick, sending a thrill across my skin. “You’re gonna be the death of me.”

Wild horses couldn’t stop my smile.

This boy was it for me. It was as simple as that. Even crazier, it seemed like I was it for him. I was certain I was stuck inside some wonderful dream and would wake up any moment back inside my hospital room, but I refused to pinch myself. If I was dreaming, I was happy to stay that way forever.

Heaving a sigh, Justin linked his pinkie finger with mine. “Well, come on then. Show me to my room in the dog palace.”

He smirked and I rolled my eyes at his teasing. Then, listening to the butterflies in my gut, I followed him down the front porch steps.





SUNDAY, APRIL 24TH


7 Weeks until Disaster

?Freshman Year





JUSTIN

SWEET SERENITY RANCH 4:05 P.M.





Peyton’s family was weird. They were very nice, extremely welcoming, and over the top supportive of each other.

Like I said, really weird.

They’d treated me like one of their own all weekend—much to the chagrin of that horse boy, Cade. The dude had it bad for Peyton, that much was obvious, but he’d been too much of a chicken-shit to step up to the plate. Now I was here, and too bad for him, I owned the plate. And Coach loved me.

I’d been his sous chef, whatever the hell that was, at the annual fish fry on Friday. He taught me his secret trick to keep the batter from falling off. Then this morning, he had me join him behind the grill, prepping the big family Easter meal.

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