Shelley smiles, but there’s a spark of excitement in her eyes. “Trashy or not, it’s getting attention. And attention, my dear, is ratings. For both your show and the band.”
I stare at her, a slow wave of apprehension crawling up my spine. “Shelley, please tell me you’re not about to suggest?—”
She leans forward, resting her elbows on the desk. “A strategic arrangement. A fake dating situation. Just like you did with Rafe a few years back.”
My stomach clenches at the memories of that arrangement I pulled off with Rafe—staged photos, orchestrated dates, every laugh and gesture painted on for the cameras. It worked wonders for the show and his image, but it left me feeling hollow.
I sink into a chair, meeting Shelley’s gaze. “You’re serious? You want me to—what, pretend to be with them? All of them? You know our history.”
She arches an eyebrow, letting out a small laugh that sets my nerves on edge. “Not necessarilyallof them. Just one would handle the press angle nicely. Or maybe two, if we need to ramp up the drama. You know the audience loves a good scandal, and what’s more scandalous than a broken pack?”
Her words hit home.I’ve already done that for real, I don’t need a repeat, I think. “And if I say no? Iftheysay no?”
Shelley exhales, leaning back in her chair. “Look, Ash, I’m not forcing you into anything. I know you all have a past. But this is a golden opportunity.Omega’s Top Modelhas been slipping in the ratings, and with the band’s new album about to drop, they could use a publicity bump. It’d be a win-win, and we’d get to control the narrative—shut down the rumor mill before it spins even wilder stories.”
I open my mouth to protest, but the words don’t come out. My mind whirls with possible scenarios: me posing for paparazzi shots, laughing into Todd’s shoulder or letting Jake hold my hand for the cameras. Maybe I show up with West at some event, or Xayden leads me through a crowd, flipping off the cameras for maximum effect.
An ache radiates in my chest, because part of me wonders—would it be so bad?I swallow that thought down. “Shelley, Idon’t want to make a spectacle of this… of me. I’m just starting to figure out where I stand with them. I’m not sure a fake relationship is the right move.”
Her phone dings, and she glances at it, frustration tightening her features. “Look, Ash,” she says, meeting my gaze, “I know this is complicated. But I have to think about the show. And you have to think about your future. The tabloids are already running wild. This way, you can direct the narrative. You won’t be a victim to it.”
I clench my fists in my lap, fighting the swirl of emotions. She’s not entirely wrong—if the headlines are going to spin a story, part of me would rather have some control. Butfake dating? With them? On top of the real feelings I can’t seem to get a handle on?
I drag in a breath, forcing myself to remain calm. “I’ll… think about it.”
Shelley perks up, that showbiz shine returning to her smile. “Good. I’ll need to know soon. We can draw up a plan, keep it simple—just enough photos and statements to satisfy the public. Then you can call it off anytime.”
I stand, my legs feeling shaky. “I’ll let you know,” I murmur, turning to leave before she can rope me into more specifics.
What won’t I do for the show? At this point, it feels like I don’t have much choice. It will benefit everyone in some way for me to agree to this. And I’ve lived my life since leaving the guys like this, taking every opportunity to better my career as it came. It isn’t even the first time Shelley has had me fake-dating someone. She knows my dedication, it’s why we get along so well. Because I know she can be demanding instead of nice about all of this.
As I step out of her office, my phone vibrates in my pocket—probably the guys, or maybe more news alerts. It’s all too much. Fake dating? My heart thumps painfully at the idea. Because forme, there’s nofakeabout how I feel. Even if it terrifies me to admit it.
I keep walking, phone buzzing against my thigh, and my mind churns through Shelley's proposition. I’m torn between the safety of controlling the public story and the danger of letting these men back into my heart—fake or not.
Maybe it’s not the worst idea,a traitorous voice whispers in the back of my mind. But I grit my teeth and push that down. Because if I fall into this charade, I might just lose what's left of my self-control—especially since I'm not sure I want to fake anything with them at all.
CHAPTER 21
Ashlyn
I’m still reelingfrom Shelley’s idea when I arrive at the venue. My nerves are a live wire, buzzing beneath my skin as I weave through backstage chaos—light operators, stagehands, wardrobe assistants, all hurrying to make sure the show starts without a hitch. The distant roar of the crowd sets my pulse racing. Or maybe that’s just me, thinking about what I might do tonight.
I spot the guys huddled near the stage, instruments in hand, going through a last-minute soundcheck. My gaze flicks to Jake, lingering on his easy posture. He catches my eye and waves me over, a warmth in his smile that settles some of my nerves.
“Hey,” he says quietly once I’m close enough. The din of the stadium around us feels like a blanket of white noise. “You good?”
I pull in a breath, forcing a smile. “Define ‘good.’”
He chuckles, but there’s an undercurrent of seriousness in his eyes. “Shelley propositioned us, too,” he says, voice low, “about the whole...fake dating idea.”
My heart thuds. Of course. “And?”
He shrugs, glancing at Todd—who’s busy tuning his guitar—then back to me. “She wanted us to consider pairing off for the media. Some storyline about you being our new...‘it girl.’ We told her we’re only in if you are. Otherwise, it’s a hard pass.”
My chest tightens at his words. They’re basically handing me the reins, and I’m not sure if I’m steady enough to hold them. “Oh.”
Jake watches me carefully. “Look, if you say no, we’ll shut it down.”
