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236 pages, Hardcover
First published April 23, 2019
Nolan Grant is sixteen, gay, and (definitely) still a virgin. He’s never had a boyfriend, or even been kissed. It’s not like Penn Valley is brimming with prospects. And when his big sister stages an elaborate “prom-posal” so Nolan can ask out his not-so-secret crush, Nolan freezes. He’s saved from further embarrassment by bad boy Bern, who, for his own reasons, offers to fake-date Nolan.
Nolan thinks it’s the perfect way to get Daphne off his back and spend the rest of the year drawing narwhals, tending to plants, and avoiding whatever died under his bed a few weeks ago. What he doesn’t think about is Bern’s ex-girlfriend, who seriously wants to kill him
Googling “How to fake date”—since I obviously have no idea how to real date, either—brings up a treasure trove of fanfiction that I bookmark for later, but is otherwise unhelpful.
All I’ve learned so far—from my various, entirely reliable sources—is that fake dating involves a lot of hand-holding in public, hurried passionate kisses when cornered, and accidental bed sharing when there are no extra rooms at the inn.
I duck my head to hide a wince. My life has turned into a bad rom-com movie, only chances are slim to zero that I’ll actually get my happy ending.
“I like plants.”
Bern…cracks up.
He goddamn giggles, burying his face in hands. I have to save his soda from getting shoved off the table.”
“To think about how right about now Bern usually drags me into the bathroom, how we’ll touch without really touching, and how my skin always tingles when we don’t actually fucking make out. I curl my fingers into his and lace them together.”
“Bern, set up next to me, pushes his foot into mine. He says, “Going soft, Grant?” and, crap, maybe I am an asshole?”
“I could say it’s because of how the sun onhis face males his eyes look nearly black and his mouth this deep ruby red.”
“I like plants.”
Bern…cracks up.
He goddamn giggles, burying his face in hands. I have to save his soda from getting shoved off the table.”
“There’s a flush on the tops of his cheeks that I kind of want to press my thumbs to. Thank god my hands are full.”
“To think about how right about now Bern usually drags me into the bathroom, how we’ll touch without really touching, and how my skin always tingles when we don’t actually fucking make out. I curl my fingers into his and lace them together.”
“Bern, set up next to me, pushes his foot into mine. He says, “Going soft, Grant?” and, crap, maybe I am an asshole?”
“I could say it’s because of how the sun onhis face males his eyes look nearly black and his mouth this deep ruby red.”