Holding On To Heaven (Allendale Four 2)

“Yep. And a hot tub,” he replied, smugly. When we both looked surprised, he said, “I know we’re religious but we’re not prudes. Showing a little skin isn’t a sin.”

My father would die if he heard that.

Samantha scanned the patio and her eyes brightened. “Oh, I see a friend from class. I’m going to say hi.” She looked at me. “Is that okay?”

“Sure, have fun. We’ll catch up soon.”

Noah had curly black hair that was long on the top but short on the sides. He was cute enough—but not my type—and I needed to figure out what he wanted out of this meeting

“So your dad knows my dad,” I said, taking a sip of the fruity Jesus Juice. It was pretty good.

“Yep, they set this whole thing up.”

“Any idea why?”

His eyes raked over me. “Not specifically, but I’m glad they did.” He took a sip of his drink. “My father believes in establishing contacts through the church—linking up with the right people.”

I laughed. “Not sure how I’m going to help you. I’m new on campus, overwhelmed by classes. Not super social or anything or, frankly, very religious.” I clamped my mouth shut. “Don’t tell my dad that.”

He smiled. “I won’t, and for one thing, you’re beautiful, you’ve got that going for you.”

Wait…what happened to shy Noah? My dad may have had his information wrong.

I raised an eyebrow. “If I had to guess, this is really about my dad making a point about who he thinks I should make friends with at school—while developing those connections your dad is fond of.”

“What? He doesn’t like your friends?”

I

hadn’t given him the chance to get to know them.

“I try to keep my personal life away from my dad. He has a way of getting too involved.” I smiled. “You know, like this entire situation.”

“Maybe he’s just protective.” He slid a little closer. I really didn’t know what my father had set up before I came here. Did he want me to date Noah? Flatter him? There was no doubt we’d gotten a little attention since we staked out this corner of the kitchen.

“I heard you were shy and needed a friend,” I confessed. “That doesn’t seem to be the case. What gives?”

Noah looked over my shoulder at a few girls walking through the kitchen. If we added a keg and a dose of machoism, we’d be at a standard party. “My dad financially supports this center with huge donations. He wants me to be a leader in the church and in his eyes, I can’t do that without a nice girl on my arm. I think he’s also embarrassed I don’t have a steady girlfriend—he’s accused me more than once of being gay.”

“Are you? Because if you are, that’s not a big deal for me.”

“I’m not gay,” he said. “But I’m also not a saint. Not the kind that my father wants me to be.”

I sighed. “Totally get this. I’m not who my father wants me to be, either.”

Things were starting to click. I’d been down this road before, but this time the arrangement was helping my dad, whereas last time it only benefitted Justin. There wasn’t much I could get out of this other than getting him off my back.

“Basically, we both need a cover for our true selves. A steady friend of the opposite sex for them to feel comfortable with, and if your dad is happy…” I suggested.

“Then he’ll donate to whatever project your dad has in mind at his church,” he replied with a sly grin.

“What kind of proof do you think they’ll want? What sort of evidence?”

“My dad has spies all over the place. He keeps tracks. Fuck, I even caught him paying my roommate to send him details on any women I’m seeing.”

“You’re joking.”

He shook his head. “Nope.”