The Boy Next Door: A Standalone Small Town Romance (Soulmates Series Book 3) by Hazel Kelly Page A

babe?”
    “Yeah,” I said, pushing mine around the plate.
    “So how long have you guys been together then?” Connor asked.
    “You sure do ask a lot of questions for someone who almost
didn’t get invited to brunch,” I said.
    “Do you like the tomatoes, Henry?” Connor asked. “I grew them in
my garden.”
    “Wow,” Henry said. “I can barely grow my own toenails, much less
something worth eating.”
    I forced a laugh that was so full of tension I was surprised no
one offered me a laxative.
    Then I started dominating the conversation with enough shit to
clog every toilet in Glastonbury just to keep the two of them from speaking any
more.
    Finally, when everyone had cleaned their plates, Helly got up to
do the dishes and Connor offered to help.
    I thanked her again before excusing myself and Henry. Then I led
him upstairs to my room and closed the door. I just couldn’t take it anymore.
    “Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked, looking around my room and
then back at me. “You’re acting seriously weird.”
    “I’m not okay,” I said. “I haven’t been okay since you met me.”
    He laughed.
    “I’m being serious.”
    He furrowed his brow. “What’s going on,” he asked, sitting on
the edge of my paisley print bedspread.
    “We need to talk.”
    “I kind of figured that out when you disappeared with a bunch of
your stuff out of the blue yesterday.”
    “Right.”
    “Sit down,” he said, patting the bed beside him. “And calm
down.”
    I sat next to him and took a deep breath. He was so kind, so
understanding. I never should’ve lied to him in the first place.
    He probably would’ve loved me despite everything. But between my
childhood and my being a waitress with no professional prospects, it seemed the
least I could do was dip dye my past in some rose tinted paint.
    I liked that he was so measured, so sturdy. I liked that he was
older than me and thought my hysterics were cute, even though I didn’t think
they were cute.
    I’d practically developed an ulcer the week I went to meet his
parents at their house in the Hamptons. Sure, I’d proven that I could convincingly
play the part of his girlfriend, but it would always be a part.
    And if Harrison Ford could tire of playing Indiana Jones, how
could I expect to be happy playing Henry Hart’s other half forever?
    “Talk to me,” he said, lifting my chin.
    I stared into his dark eyes.
    “There’s nothing you can’t tell me.”
    I sighed. Apparently, there were loads of things I couldn’t tell
him, but none of them mattered now.
    “Please, Laney. I have a lot of talents, but mind reading isn’t
one of them.”
    “I found the ring.”
    His eyes grew wide.
    “In your sock drawer.”
    He swallowed.
    “I can’t marry you, Henry.”
    “I didn’t ask.”
    “But you were going to,” I said.
    He nodded. “Someday. When I thought we were both ready.”
    “So why is there already an engagement ring in your sock drawer?”
    “Besides the fact that I thought you wouldn’t find it?”
    I nodded.
    “Because I saw it and thought it was perfect for you. And it was
on sale.”
    I rolled my eyes. “You didn’t have to add that last part.”
    “You didn’t have to snoop in my sock drawer.”
    “I wasn’t snooping,” I said. “I didn’t have any clean socks.”
    “Are you telling me the reason you freaked out and drove up here
is because you found the ring?”
    I shrugged. “I know it’s ridiculous, but-”
    “Ridiculous isn’t the word I would’ve used.”
    I raised my eyebrows.
    “Worrying,” he said. “That’s the word that came to my mind.”
    “I know.”
    He brought his hands together and looked down at his lap.
    “It’s not that I don’t love you.”
    “You just don’t love me enough.”
    “No.”
    He looked at me. “And you don’t think you ever will?”
    “I’m sorry.”
    He nodded and stared at the purple shag carpet in the middle of
the floor.
    “Isn’t it better that I told you sooner rather than