“Do I look like I’m joking?”
No.
No, he definitely does not.
He looks completely serious.
And also completely undeniably and certifiably insane.
“You don’t even know me,” I point out, my voice climbing an octave. “We’ve met three times. Once when I was crying in your car, once in a café, and then when I was drunk off my ass at a bar, and now I’m hungover and look like death, you’re saying you wanna help make my dickhead ex jealous? You don’t owe me anything.”
“Who said anything about owing you?” Nitro leans back in his chair, which creaks again under his weight, and crosses those sexy-as-sin arms over his chest. “Maybe I think it would be fun. Maybe I want to see this asshole’s face when you walk in looking gorgeous with a guy who appreciates you.”
My heart is doing something complicated in my chest. Something that feels like hope, terror, and the kind of stupid, reckless optimism that always gets me in trouble. You would think I would learn…
“This is crazy?” I say, but it comes out like a question.
“Probably,” Nitro agrees. “But so is sitting outside someone’s house in your car all night. But look what it got me… a free breakfast and a plot to fuck with your ex-boyfriend’s head. I call that a big fucking win.”
Sage practically vibrates with excitement beside me as she claps her hands together. “Oh my God, you have to do this. You simplyhaveto! I willliterallydie if you don’t! I’ll plan your outfits. I’ll coach you on how to act like a couple. I’ll, I’ll—”
“Sage.” I press my hand to my forehead, trying to stop the spinning. “This is insane.”
“No, this is brilliant!” she counters. “Derek deserves to see you happy. He deserves to see you with someone who actually treats you right. And even if it’s only for one night, even if it’s all fake, you deserve to walk into that gala and feel like the most important person in the room, while giving it to numb nuts.”
I look at Nitro, searching his face for any sign that he’s messing with me. That this is some elaborate joke, or a pity offer. But all I see is that same steady calm. That same quiet certainty that made me trust him the first time I got into his car.
“Why would you do this?” I ask softly. “Why would you help me?”
He’s quiet for a moment, and I watch something shift in his expression.
Something that looks almost vulnerable.
“Because you deserve better than what that asshole gave you,” he says finally. “And if spending one night pretending to be your boyfriend means that asshole has to watch you be happy without him, then I’m in.”
My chest feels too tight. My eyes are burning, and I’m dangerously close to crying again, which is ridiculous because this is supposed to be a fun, silly, fake-dating scheme. Not a moment that makes me feel like someone actually sees me. Actually, sees me for who I am, not something else.
“You really think we could pull this off?” I ask, and immediately want to take it back because it sounds so desperate.
But Nitro doesn’t laugh.
He doesn’t make me feel stupid for asking.
He simply looks at me as if I’m the only person in the room.
“I think we’re going to make him see that you’re the most beautiful woman he’snevergoing to have, Small Town. Drunk, sober, hungover, crying, laughing… doesn’t matter. You’re beautiful. And you’renevergoing to be his again. It’s going to drive him absolutely fucking crazy.”
Sage makes a noise that sounds as though she’s choking. “Okay, I’m going to need you two to stop being so disgustingly sweet because I’m still hungover, and Iwillvomit,” she announces, but she’s grinning. “But also, yes, a thousand times yes, you’re doing this fake-dating thing, and it’s going to be ah-mazing!”
I’m staring at Nitro, my brain trying to catch up with everything that just happened.
He thinks I’m beautiful.
He wants to help me.
He’s offering to be my ‘fake date’ like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
“We should probably think about it,” I hear myself say, even though every part of me is screaming just to say yes. “Make sure it’s actually a good idea before we commit to anything.”
