I shake my head. “No. But I agree—he has been slightly less grumpy.”
“Then it has to be someone else.” Lach taps his chin. “But who? Who else has been hanging around the bar?”
I groan into my hands. “You two are relentless.”
“We’re your friends,” Rylee says brightly. “Relentless is our love language.”
I cave with a sigh but only crack the door open. “Okay. Fine. Miles… and I… had a thing.”
Rylee perks up instantly. “A thing?”
Lach leans in. “Define ‘thing.’ On a scale from mildly charged eye contact to seeing each other naked.”
I wave my hands frantically. “No! Not like that. Well—yes. But also no. It’s just… practice.”
They both stare at me.
Rylee blinks. “Practicing what?”
My face goes up in flames. “Dating.”
Lach clears his throat. “And…?”
I fake-cough into my hand. “And other… things.”
Rylee grins. “Okay, you know what? Good for him.”
“Good for him?” I repeat indignantly.
She shrugs. “Miles deserves some kisses.”
I stare at the floor, mortified and way too warm. “Anyway,” I mutter, desperate to change the subject, “it’s not like that. I’m just helping him so he doesn’t crash and burn on future dates.”
“Future dates with you?” A wide smile spreads across Lach’s face.
“I hate both of you.” I grab my phone off the bar and open the OneDate admin dashboard. Which I immediately regret. Miles’s profile—the one I helped him polish—is suddenly blowing up with new matches.
Lach peers over my shoulder. “Ooooh. Look who’s Mr. Popular.”
My grip tightens on the phone. “That’s…” I swallow. “Great. That’s great for him.”
Rylee narrows her eyes. “You don’t sound thrilled.”
“I am thrilled.” I’m not thrilled. I’m not even a little thrilled. “He deserves this,” I add, forcing a smile. “This is what he wanted.”
“Isn’t fake dating Miles kind of interfering with that goal?” Lach asks, gentler now.
“No,” I say immediately. “No interference. No problem. We’re just helping each other. It’s fine. It’s—fine.”
Rylee and Lach share a glance. Then Rylee leans her elbows on the bar, her tone softening. “Sweetie… it’s okay to feel weird about it.”
“I don’t feel weird,” I lie.
“Are you jealous?” Lach asks.
I glare at him. “I’m not jealous.”
Rylee lifts a brow.
