Her eyes, snap up to mine.
And then something unexpected happens—Lizzy throws her head back and laughs. The sound is so bright and sudden that I’m momentarily stunned into silence. It’s been so long since I’ve heard her laugh like that. A genuine, no holds barred, laugh. It’s enough to leave me spellbound.
“Oh my god,” she wheezes, tears gathering at the corners of her eyes. “The look on your face!”
Her laughter is contagious, and soon I’m joining in, the tension between us dissolving like a heavy mist from the warmth of a morning sun.
“I was only trying to help!”
“Sure you were,” she snorts. “Ever the gentleman.”
As our laughter subsides, it feels like something has shifted between us. The air feels even lighter when she gives me a soft smile, eyes sparkling as she hands me my phone.
I nod my head subtly to the side as I shove it back in mypocket. “Don’t look now, but someone else has their camera on us.”
“Seriously?” I watch as she fights every knee-jerk response she has in order to keep herself from turning her head to look. “Is it paparazzi?”
“No. Not yet. Probably just a fan. But once they start posting? All bets are off. It’s just a matter of time before Lakeside is overrun with them.”
“So, what’s in it for me? This little... faux-mance you’ve come up with?”
“Besides getting to hang out withPeople’sSexiest Man Alive?” I try for levity, snorting out a laugh when her expression deadpans. “Right. Well, there would be financial compensation, of course. Plus, I could promote your artwork. I know people in the L.A. gallery scene who would love your stuff.”
She snorts. “My ‘stuff’ is doing just fine on its own, thank you very much.”
“There is one thing my agent won’t budge on, though.”
“Oh, goodie. I assume this would be the fine print part of our conversation?”
If it were anyone else, I wouldn’t dread bringing this part up. “You’ll have to sign an NDA.”
Her eyebrows shoot up. “Fuck the hell off!” she whisper-hisses, leaning in, squishing her tits against the edge of the table. “An NDA? Seriously?”
“It’s standard procedure,” I explain with a mental wince, fighting to keep from staring at her chest. “It protects both of us. Ensuring that whatever happens—or doesn’t happen between us—stays private.”
“So I can’t talk about it?” she clarifies, looking skeptical.
“Right. Not publicly. As far as anyone outside of Logan—and what I assume your inner girl circle already knows—we’rethe real deal. Childhood sweethearts reconnecting after years apart.”
Lizzy takes another sip of her beer, her eyes never leaving mine. I can practically see the wheels turning in her head, weighing the pros and cons.
“What about my parents?”
Guilt stabs at me when I think about lying to the two people who have treated me like a second son. “The fewer people who know, the better.”
When her face falls, I immediately amend my statement. “We can tell them after it’s over. Explain everything. I have no doubt they’ll understand.”
“Okay. What happens when it’s over?” she asks. “When you’ve got your director gig and don’t need me anymore?”
The question hits harder than I know it should. Because the truth is, I’ve always needed her. Even when I tried to convince myself otherwise. And even though this might come off as fake to her right now? My strategy is to take this fake relationship and make it as real as it can get.
But, of course, I’m not about to tell her that.
“We’ll have a mutual, amicable breakup,” I explain, keeping my voice steady. “Blame it on distance or schedules or whatever people usually say when they don’t want to admit the truth.”
“And what is the truth, Rowan?” she challenges with a curious, irritated tilt of her head. “That this is all just another role for you to play?”
Before I can answer, our food arrives, the server setting a massive burger in front of Lizzy and a steak sandwich in front of me.
