Fiona clapped her hands. “It’s perfect! I love this idea so much!”
I whipped around to Brooks, eyes narrowed. “You sure? I wouldn’t want to force you to go to a wedding for people youjust met.”
“Oh,” he said easily, stepping closer, voice low. “I’m very social. And I love to meet people andtalk.”
His meaning was clear.
Take him as my date, or he tells Fiona everything.
I smiled. Tightly.
“Perfect!” I said, too cheerfully. “I have a date now.”
Brooks winked. “Can’t wait.”
And just like that, I had two weeks to figure out how to survive him. If I could survive that night two years ago, I can handle a fake date
“Gideon will be so pleased.” Fiona smiled, squeezing my forearm. “Make sure you get time off for the wedding. Double and triple check, because I will obviously forgive you, but I want you there. I need you there.”
“I know, Fi. I’ll make it happen.”
She nodded and gave Brooks one more glance. “I’m glad you get to go. Michelle is a good time when she finally relaxes. Bring her food, and you might get lucky.”
“My god, Fiona!” I shoved her out of the kitchen and kept my back to the fling who’d been so much more. Brooks had the power to render me speechless and erase all plans I had for myself, and that wasn’t something I could risk. I took a deep breath, stiffened my shoulders, and masked my emotions when I faced him. “Blackmail doesn’t look good on you.”
His gaze moved over my face, lingering on my lips for a beat. “I’m persistent when I want something.”
My breath hitched but I adjusted the stance, hoping he didn’t notice. “What is it that you want?”
“To understand what happened two years ago.” He stepped closer. “I live here now. We now share friends. You’re going to be seeing a lot of me, Mitch.”
Oh god, the nickname.
I clenched my fists together to prevent myself from doing anything stupid, like throwing myself at him or begging him to kiss me. “I’m aware of the situation.”
“Same old smartass.” He stared at me fondly, his eyes lighting up as he added, “I’m gonna get my answers from you, one way or another. Prepare yourself.”
* * *
I was goingto kill Fiona.
Dodging Brooks’s heated glances at the party had been hard enough, but seeing him hop out of his truck in full golf attire at the exact time we were scheduled to tee off?
Absolutely not.
He slung his clubs over his shoulder like he owned the damn place, shaking hands with Gideon, flashing that easy, effortless smile like he wasn’t currently blackmailing me into spending time with him.
Panic bloomed in my chest. I needed an excuse. My apartment flooded? The restaurant needed me? My fake fish died?
A knock on my window made me jump.
“Damnit, Fiona,” I hissed, clutching my chest.
She grinned, entirely too chipper for the absolute betrayal she had unknowingly orchestrated. I checked for Brooks, and—of course—he waved, a smug glint in his eye.
Guess I was golfing now. No excuse would work.
I exhaled sharply, ripping myself from my car and grabbing the secondhand clubs Gideon had donated to me last year. “Hi, Fiona.” My voice was void of warmth as I slung the bag over my shoulder.
