Page 234 of The Bluffing Game

“But I’m not even dressed.”

“I don’t care. You always look beautiful to me.” His voice cracks.

I get out of bed. “Fine. I’m coming.” I hang up.

I grab a brush and quickly try to brush my hair. I look at my reflection in the mirror. I look like I just got out of bed. My hair is messy. I have no makeup. I’m wearing baggy shorts and a T-shirt, but I don’t care. Dalton sounded like he needed me, and I want to be there for him like he’s been there for me. I grab some flip-flops and a baggy sweater and hurry out of the apartment to the elevator.

I see him standing in the lobby, waiting for me. He looks disheveled and tired. I amble over to him, and he opens his arms and wraps me in a huge hug. I hear his heart beating double time as I press my head against his chest, and then I look up into his eyes.

“You look so pretty, Sage,” he says as he kisses me on the forehead.

I lean up and kiss him on the lips. “Is that okay?” I ask, not wanting to overstep any boundaries.

“It’s more than okay.” He smiles at me. “You had a good evening?”

“It’s been cool,” I say as we head out of the lobby.

His car is parked outside.

“I’ll drive us to the beach if you want.”

“Okay, but about that, Dalton. I have a question.”

“What is it?” he asks as he opens the door for me.

“How did you know that information?” I ask, even though I already know the answer. I think I’ve known for a while. “Are you on the app? Did we chat? Are you⁠—”

He groans. “I was going to tell you later. I’m Bradley.”

“You’re who?”

“I’m Bradley,” he says as we both slide into the car. “I know you might hate me. I know you might want to jump out, but I’m the Bradley you were speaking to on the app. It was a fake profile that I created. I was curious to see what you had to say. I just …” He shrugs. “I don’t know. I don’t really know how to make it sound better. I created a fake profile because I wanted to check in on you and chat with you without you knowing who I was. And, yeah, I guess I read that you like midnight walks on the beach.”

I stare at him and shake my head. “You lied to me.”

“You hate me.”

“I should.” I’m tired and annoyed. “And why would you do that? Why would you call yourself Bradley?” I frown. “And that photo, you totally catfished me.”

“Number one, it’s a photo from when I was younger that I used an app to change slightly. And number two, I know what I did was horrible. That’s why I stopped communicating with you.” He looks down and runs his fingers through his hair. “I’m sorry. If you want to go back upstairs, I won’t hold it against you. I understand.”

“You’re not getting off that easy, Dalton.” I grab his hand. “Why do you look like that?”

“Why do I look like what?”

“You look like you’ve been through hell and back. Is everything okay?”

He shakes his head. “Not really.” He looks over at me. “But I don’t want to dump on you. You don’t deserve that.”

“You don’t have to worry about dumping on me. You already know what I’m going through. Drive to the beach, and we’ll talk there.”

Suddenly, I feel like our roles are reversed. Suddenly, I feel like the strong one. I feel like the one who’s taking care of him, and it makes me feel empowered, even though I’m still annoyed about the fake profile. He had a point. He had stopped communicating with me as Bradley. And while that didn’t make it fully better, my subconscious is telling me that now is not the time to be mad at him for this.

He drives silently toward the beach, pulls into the parking lot, and stops the car. We exit the car, and he heads over to me.

“Can I hold your hand?” he asks boyishly.

I nod. He takes it in his. We make our way down to the beach. It almost feels like we’re teenagers on our first date, sneaking out.