“I did,” she says, not even arguing—just stating. “I stumbled on the competitive analysis. I froze on one of the regional stats. I was awkward during the small talk.”
“Maybe they’re just busy.”
She shakes her head. “Or maybe they realized I’m not as impressive as I tried to make them believe I am.”
I set my food down and wrap my arm around her shoulders. “Hey. Don’t do that. You’re incredible.”
Her laugh is sharp. “Yeah. Real top-notch material over here. Pretty, but not as pretty as Becca and Kelsey. Funny, but not as funny as Bryn. Smart, but not as smart as…any of them. God, I bet if your fans found out you were with me, they’d riot.”
She can’t think that. At least, I can’t imagine Izzy—the smartest personIknow—could believe that about herself.
“Iz.” I reach for her hand, but she pulls back.
And I feel the shift before she says it. The start of a retreat. She’s putting up the walls.
“I’ve just been so wrapped up in this whole fake-dating thing and making sure I’m not falling for you—”
Her eyes flash to mine. My world stops moving.
She looks like she wants to frantically grab the words and shove them back into her mouth, but they’re already loose.
They’ve changed everything. And nothing.
“I didn’t mean—” she starts.
But I know she did.
“I think we should probably…reevaluate our situation,” she concludes.
“What? Why?”
Her eyes flick up. “You finished the album. That was the deal, right? You got what you needed. And the wedding’s in less than two weeks, so maybe you can go back to Nashville, fly back for the wedding, and we just…forget about the rest.”
The rest.
The nights on the couch. The kisses. The wine at the firepit. The way she looked at me like I was more than a borrowed fantasy.
“Izzy…”
“It’s fake anyway,” she says quickly, like saying it first will give her the control she seems to need so desperately right now. “I still need you to be my date for the wedding, but you don’t have to keep pretending to enjoy the role of fake boyfriend—with all the awkward attempts at orgasms included.”
She tries to smile.
I nod, slowly, but then—
I’ve never stayed for anyone, but Izzy isn’t just anyone. She’s the woman who managed to steal my heart with her wide smile and sarcastic comments. The first person I want to talk to in the morning, and the last person I want to see at night.
She’s the passion behind every lyric I’ve written in the last month, and now every song I play, every chord, feels like her.
“No,” I say, shaking my head.
“What do you mean no?”
“This isn’t fake for me. Plus, I’ve walked away once before, and I know what I lost. I’m not doing it again.”
“Jax,” Izzy says, her eyes begging me to believe her, “this doesn’t work between us.”
“It does, Izzy. I don’t know exactly how yet, but I know it can. This is real. We are real. And we’ll figure it out. Nashville’s not that far away when you have a private jet. Wild Bluffs has lots of land to build a recording studio on. I have the means to make almost anything possible happen. And I want to make us work.”
