Heat crawled up my neck. “I mean, technically we’re still not.” I grabbed the wine and took a fortifying gulp. “Look, it’s complicated.”
“Then uncomplicate it.” Austen tucked her feet under her. “Start with how this whole thing began.”
I explained about the magazine article, about thinking the publicity would be good for business, about the assumptions and embellishments that snowballed into an engagement announcement. The words tumbled out faster and faster.
“And then he got off the bus, and I panicked and kissed him, and now he’s living with me and—” I broke off, realizing I’d said way too much.
“Living with you?” Felicity’s eyebrows shot up.
“He said it made sense. To keep up appearances.” My voice went small. “And it does make sense. Except…”
“Except?” Austen prompted.
“Except I’m starting to forget it’s not real.” The admission burned my throat worse than the wine. “He keeps doing these things—little touches, holding my hand, the way he looks at me sometimes. And last week we...” I buried my face in my hands. “Oh God, I’m in so much trouble.”
“Did you sleep with him?” Felicity squealed.
I groaned into my palms.
“You did!” Austen crowed. “Girl, that’s not trouble, that’s progress!”
“Progress toward what?” I lifted my head. “Destroying our friendship? Ruining our business? Everything we’ve built?”
“Or maybe progress toward what everyone else has seen coming for years.” Felicity’s voice went gentle. “The way you two are together—that’s not just friendship, Tate. It never has been.”
“He said the same thing.” I whispered.
“Smart man.” Austen topped off my glass. “So, what are you going to do about it?”
“Do about it?” I took another sip of wine. “I don’t know. We’re giving it a chance, but…”
“But what?” Felicity leaned forward.
“But what if it all falls apart?” The words spilled out. “My parents were best friends before they got married. Everyone thought they were perfect together. Then the fighting started, and the cheating, and suddenly they couldn’t even be in the same room. They haven’t spoken in fifteen years except through lawyers.”
“You’re not your parents, Tate.” Austen’s voice went soft.
“Aren’t I? I saw what happened when they mixed friendship and romance. It exploded. And they lost everything—their marriage, their friendship, their whole friend group had to choose sides.” I twisted my wine glass between my fingers. “If Kellan and I crash and burn, we don’t just lose us. We lose the business we built together. Everything we worked for goes up in smoke.”
Felicity set her glass down. “Or maybe you’re so scared of what could go wrong that you’re missing what could go right.”
“She’s got a point.” Austen nodded. “You’re looking for reasons this won’t work instead of seeing what’s right in front of you.”
“What’s right in front of me?”
“A man who came home from war and didn’t hesitate to play along with your crazy scheme.” Felicity ticked off on her fingers. “Who moved in with you to keep up appearances. Who’s apparently rocking your world in the bedroom?—”
“Oh, God.” I buried my face in my hands.
“And who’s been your rock through everything for basically your entire life.” Austen finished. “That’s not nothing, honey.”
“When’s the last time you saw Kellan really date anyone?” Austen asked.
I frowned, thinking back. “There was that girl from the hardware store...”
“Three years ago,” Felicity cut in. “And it lasted what, two dates?”
“Something like that.”
