The Fine Art of Pretending
should bring tonight.

    “They’re here!”
    I hear Baylee’s squeal from behind the closed red wood door moments before it opens and an excited ball of energy envelops me in a hug. “Thank you so much for coming! Now it’s really gonna rock!”
    A deep, sexy chuckle comes from behind Baylee, and my pulse quickens. Brandon leans against the door and smiles. Despite my mental pep talk back in my room, and again on the drive over, my palms slick with sweat.
    “Glad to be here,” I say, stepping back from the girl’s embrace. Focus on why you’re here, Aly . “Now put me to work.”
    Kaitie and I came early to help set up, knowing their mom would be getting ready for her shift and Brandon is clueless. We walk through the door, and Brandon grabs the grocery bags and tote from my hands to look inside, brushing his fingers against the inside of my wrist. My eyes dart to his mouth.
    How can such an innocent touch cause my insides to melt and my limbs to get all twitchy at the same time?
    Baylee sticks her head into the closest bag. “What’s all this?”
    Blood rushes to my face as I wrench my eyes from Brandon’s lips. I can’t bring myself to look and see if he caught me. Tucking my hair behind my ear, I answer in an annoyingly breathless voice, “Every sleepover needs movies and spa stuff.” I force a smile at Baylee. “And the right kind of snackage is essential to any party’s success.”
    “Trust her, Bayls.” I finally look up and see Brandon staring at me with an unreadable expression. Could that touch have affected him, too? “Aly’s an expert on snackage.”
    We hold each other’s gaze for an extended moment. I still have no idea what he’s thinking, and I pray I’m just as pokerfaced. Sadly, my sinking gut tells me different.
    “Y’all okay?” Baylee asks.
    That snaps us out of it. I nod, and Brandon turns around to walk into the family room. I notice our sisters exchange a strange look as I fall in step behind him, setting my overnight bag on the bench in the foyer.
    Nope, this isn’t awkward at all .
    Baylee presses play on her “girl power mix,” and I turn myself into Martha Stewart to keep the pesky thoughts at bay. I push the recliner and sofa back and have Brandon remove the coffee table to add more floor space. After laying out the spa products and stacking movies by the television, I set out the snacks in the kitchen. I’m pouring chips into a bowl when Miss Sheila comes down the stairs in her scrubs. She walks up, pulling me into a hug.
    “Alyssa, you don’t know how grateful I am for you bailing us out at the last minute like this. I hate missing the sleepover.” Eyes the same soft green shade as Brandon’s peer at me with sadness as she sighs, squeezing my shoulder. “But I know the girls are in good hands.”
    “I stole every stereotypical sleepover idea from every movie I’ve seen,” I confirm. “The girls will have a blast.”
    She smiles, then darts her gaze to Brandon. “My shift’s from seven to seven,” she tells me, “so I want to catch up with you in the morning, okay?” The pointed look she gives me confirms my suspicions. Mom totally told her about that moment she saw at the campground. I squirm under her scrutiny, and the level of awkward rises.
    She winks, letting me off the hook for now. Then, in a rush of energy rivaling her daughter’s, she kisses her children and runs out the door with a parting, “Behave, you two,” thrown over her shoulder.
    The door closes, and Brandon and I share a look. We’re officially without supervision.
    I zip back around and snag a cookie from the counter.
    When in doubt, pig out. That’s my motto.
    “Anything else left to do?” Kaitie asks, grabbing a chip.
    I give the kitchen and family room a thorough examination. Satisfied that everything is ready, I shake my head. “Nah, just have to order the pizza. You girls head upstairs to clean up.”
    As they clomp up the stairs, I reach for the phone. I feel Brandon

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