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“They’ll hear about it. I’d be surprised if they don’t already by the time you get home afterward. Are you worried about them finding out, or is this all because you don’t want to lie to everyone?”

I wish that was it. Lying to all of our friends should be what’s making me doubt this plan, not that the longer we continue to act on it, the closer I’m moving into obsession territory.

Finding Daisy attractive was one thing. Watching her from afar and yearning for the right time, ifever, to make a move is another. But having her so close while knowing I’m supposed to make our fake relationship real enough that I can touch her body and kiss her skin . . . I’m completely and utterly fucked.

One taste and I’m contemplating putting a stop to this before I wind up lost and broken.

“You know the truth. The only people I feel guilty lying to are Anna and Darren,” I mutter.

She leans against me, shoulder to shoulder. Her puffy robe is thick and warm, too bulky for my personal preference. It looks expensive, and I’d bet that’s because it is. Garrison isn’t frugal with his billions when it comes to her.

“They’ll forgive you if they ever find out you lied. And I’ve got your back. I think my brother is right. Peakside is the smartest idea. Not to mention, it’ll be loud and busy, so you can always sneak off if you need to,” she says.

“Do you think I can pull it off?”

Her eyes lift to my face, but I don’t turn my head. “Are you finally admitting what I’ve known for years now?”

“What’s that?” I ask, needing her to be the one to say it.

“That you want Daisy Mitchell.”

The statement is like a pipe straight through the chest. I struggle to breathe around the intrusion and instead sound pained when I finally find words.

“I want Daisy Mitchell.”

Poppy’s arm slides below my chest as she hugs me from the side and squeezes tight. “I’m proud of you.”

“It’s not that big of a deal.”

“It is,” she soothes, pressing her cheek to my arm. “Even if you think it isn’t.”

“After this is over, it won’t matter whether or not I want her. It’s fake in her eyes. Like we agreed it would be. And I feel fucking creepy now.”

“You’re not creepy, Ice.”

I make a deep noise in the back of my throat. “I am. Agreeing to this while having pre-existing feelings for her is fucking creepy. I’m not only lying to everyone else but to her too.”

Poppy twists, leaning over my lap with a hand on the armrest. Her frown is one I’ve seen a million times over the course of our friendship, but it feels different this time. Like she’s disappointed in me or something.

“You’re plenty of things, Bryce Lemieux. Blunt, stubborn, crass, a connoisseur of vibrators and horror documentaries, but you’re absolutely not creepy. It pisses me off when you speak negatively about yourself.”

“Connoisseur of vibrators?”

Her frown breaks, flipping up into a slight smile. “That is all you would pay attention to.”

“Don’t act innocent.”

“I prefer dildos. Vibrators are plain.”

“You have a living dildo in your bed right now,” I point out.

Leaning back, she settles beside me once again and laughs. “The best one on the market too.”

“Fuck off.” I jostle her with my arm and tip my head back to stare at the ceiling, exhaling. “What do I do here, Poppy?”

“Stick to the plan while opening yourself up to her. Give her the chance to learn who you really are. Once she does, that’s when you’ll have a chance to convince her to be yours for real.”

Goosebumps explode over my arms and legs, followed by a dull voice in my head that tells me to listen to her.