I quickly add, “Unless you don’t want to. Unless you don’t think I’m ... girlfriend material. Or if—?” But I can’t bring myself to finish the sentence.
Something flashes across his face. Hurt? Confusion?
“That’s not—April, that’s not what I?—”
“So we’re agreed?” Whitaker interrupts, looking pleased. “You’ll fake date for the campaign?”
Fake date.
Pretend to be together.
Act like we’re in love when I’m already completely, hopelessly gone for him.
“Yes,” I hear myself say.
“Clark?” Whitaker prompts.
Clark looks at me for a long moment. “If April’s in, I’m in.”
“Excellent!” Whitaker rubs his hands together. “I’ll let Love at First Wag know and have the contracts emailed to you tomorrow. This is going to be great for both of you.”
He walks away, leaving Clark and me standing in the corner of the party, the noise and celebration muted, far away.
“April—”
“It’s fine,” I cut him off, unable to handle whatever he’s about to say. “It’s just business, right? Help some dogs find homes. You get some good PR. I receive funding. Easy.”
“Yeah,” he says quietly. “Easy.”
But it’s not going to be easy.
Because now I have to pretend to date my best friend.
The man I’m already in love with.
The man who sees me as just a friend.
I excuse myself to find the bathroom, needing a moment to process what just happened.What I agreed to.
In the mirror, my reflection looks stunned. My lips are still tingling from the kiss cam. My heart hasn’t stopped racing since Clark spun me on the ice.
And now I’ve agreed to fake date him for a month.
“This is fine,” I tell my reflection. “I can do this. I’ve been hiding your feelings for ten years. What’s four more weeks?”
But even as I say it, I know the truth.
This isn’t an April Fool’s joke.
This is going to break my heart.
And the worst part is, I have no one to blame but myself.
11
CLARK
I’mup half the night replaying the kiss with April.
