I nod. A lie.
Tonight is fun and enjoyable…and real.
And being here is making me realize just how unreal my life in Tennessee can be sometimes. And how much I don’t want to hear that I’m needed back—even though Andre already asked me if I could leave before the sale.
The rest of the meal is a blur of perfectly grilled steak, shared baskets of fries, and far too many jokes at JT’s expense—specifically about his reading habits.
“I’m telling you,” he says, completely unbothered as he dips a fry in aioli. “You haven’t lived until you’ve read about a tentacled alien who time travels when he comes.”
Izzy chokes on her wine. I pat her back, maybe lingering a beat too long…to convince her sisters, obviously.
“Why are you like this?” Jameson groans.
JT just shrugs. “I like a good story.”
“I’m never going to recover from today,” I mutter, eyes wide. “I learned there are entire romance subgenres devoted to monsters. Actual monsters.”
“Monsters with extensive anatomy,” Kelsey deadpans, raising her brows. “Some of which is…forked?”
“Double-barreled,” Izzy corrects, a little too helpfully. Her face turns scarlet the second the words are out, and so, for the sake of our fake relationship, I lean over and kiss her soft cheek.
“Seriously?” Bryn says, looking scandalized. “A shark shifter? Going down on you? How is that sexy? He’s got hundreds of sharp teeth. No one’s having a good time when there’s the constant threat of bloodshed.”
“Some people are into that,” Lila offers, smirking over the rim of her glass.
Jameson makes a strangled sound. “Lila, please. I'm begging you. Tell me you are still referring to the books and not telling us about your kinks.”
“No comment. Plus, it’s not my fault JT turned this dinner into a deep dive on monster anatomy.”
“I’m just saying,” JT offers, “if the monster knows how to communicate and makes her feel safe, he deserves a shot. That’s real romance.”
Izzy leans toward me, voice low and conspiratorial. “The best part is, he’s not even joking.”
“I got that,” I say, biting back a laugh. “Though I’m now terrified to ask what’s on his e-reader.”
“Only the good stuff,” JT calls out, like he knows we’re talking about him. “Don’t knock it ’til you’ve readCourting the Kraken King.”
“I hate how catchy that title is,” Bryn says. “I feel like I need to expand my reading now.”
The conversation rolls on, unfiltered and full of life, laughter crackling between us like it’s been building up for years.
As we all begin gathering our things, Izzy touches my hand. It’s a small gesture, one no one else at the table seems to notice. Her fingers slide between mine for just a second.
I look at her.
And she gazes at me with a soft smile, and it feels like maybe, just maybe, we’re not pretending anymore.
I know I’m supposed to keep my distance. We agreed this was all fake. Temporary. But I also know it’s not that anymore. At least not just that.
The way she leans into me when she laughs. The way she searches my face when she thinks no one’s looking. The way her hand fits perfectly in mine.
As we walk out to the parking lot, I hold her close, my hand at her lower back again. I tell myself it’s for show. But I know better.
Chapter thirty-six
Izzy
Thehouseisquietby the time I get home from work, that weird kind of stillness that settles in when you’re alone—the kind of silence I should be used to.
