Page 30
Story: The #FakeBoyfriend Bet
"Not always," I counter, meeting her eyes directly. "Sometimes I'm completely serious. Like last night, for example."
The color drains from her face, quickly replaced by a flush. "Max?—"
"Last night?" Zara perks up, scenting gossip. "What happened last night?"
Lena jumps in before I can respond. "Nothing special. Just got caught in the rain after the gallery opening. Had to wait it out."
"At my place," I add. "Where Lena discovered I make an excellent cup of tea."
"Among other talents," I murmur, just loud enough for Lena to hear.
She shoots me a look that could freeze hell. "Max is very…multifaceted."
"I'm learning to be a good boyfriend," I say, voice deliberately light. "Though according to Lena, I still have a ways to go. Isn't that right, honey?"
Her smile is fixed now, eyes blazing with a mixture of anger and panic. "You're doing fine."
"Just fine? After all my hard work?" I place a hand over my heart in mock offense. "I'm wounded."
The tension at the table is palpable now, Lena's friends exchanging uncertain glances.
"You guys are so cute," Mia says, clearly trying to defuse whatever is happening. "How long has it been now? A month?"
"Just about," Lena confirms. "It's still…new."
"New but promising," Sophia suggests.
Lena hesitates, just a fraction too long. "It's been…an adventure."
Something inside me snaps. An adventure. Like I'm a tourist destination she's sampling before moving on to the next trendy spot.
"It's certainly been educational," I say, leaning back in my chair. "I've learned a lot about the influencer world. Apparently, everything's content—even relationships."
Lena's eyes widen in warning. "Max?—"
"But Lena's been very patient with me," I continue, unable to stop myself. "Teaching me how to be the perfect boyfriend for her audience. I still struggle with looking natural in photos, but I've mastered the art of the candid fake laugh."
Her friends are watching us like it's a tennis match, confusion evident in their expressions.
"He's joking," Lena says quickly. "Max has an unusual sense of humor."
"No, I'm serious," I counter. "I'm probably the worst fake boyfriend in history. Can't even remember to compliment her Instagram posts without being reminded."
The word "fake" hangs in the air like a bomb. Lena's friends freeze, forks halfway to mouths, expressions cycling through confusion to dawning comprehension.
"Fake?" Sophia repeats cautiously.
"Figure of speech," Lena says, her voice tight. "He means he's still learning the ropes of social media boyfriend etiquette."
"Exactly," I agree, suddenly exhausted by all of it. "Still figuring out the script."
An uncomfortable silence descends. I can feel Lena vibrating with tension beside me, can practically hear her mind racing to do damage control.
"Well, I think you're doing a wonderful job," Mia finally says, though her smile has turned uncertain. "You guys seem really…compatible."
Lena's phone pings with a notification, and she grabs it like a lifeline. "Oh! It's Tori. Something about the charity gala on Friday." She frowns at the screen. "I should call her back. Excuse me for a minute?"
She stands, not waiting for a response, and strides toward the restaurant entrance, phone already at her ear. The moment she's out of earshot, her friends turn to me.
The color drains from her face, quickly replaced by a flush. "Max?—"
"Last night?" Zara perks up, scenting gossip. "What happened last night?"
Lena jumps in before I can respond. "Nothing special. Just got caught in the rain after the gallery opening. Had to wait it out."
"At my place," I add. "Where Lena discovered I make an excellent cup of tea."
"Among other talents," I murmur, just loud enough for Lena to hear.
She shoots me a look that could freeze hell. "Max is very…multifaceted."
"I'm learning to be a good boyfriend," I say, voice deliberately light. "Though according to Lena, I still have a ways to go. Isn't that right, honey?"
Her smile is fixed now, eyes blazing with a mixture of anger and panic. "You're doing fine."
"Just fine? After all my hard work?" I place a hand over my heart in mock offense. "I'm wounded."
The tension at the table is palpable now, Lena's friends exchanging uncertain glances.
"You guys are so cute," Mia says, clearly trying to defuse whatever is happening. "How long has it been now? A month?"
"Just about," Lena confirms. "It's still…new."
"New but promising," Sophia suggests.
Lena hesitates, just a fraction too long. "It's been…an adventure."
Something inside me snaps. An adventure. Like I'm a tourist destination she's sampling before moving on to the next trendy spot.
"It's certainly been educational," I say, leaning back in my chair. "I've learned a lot about the influencer world. Apparently, everything's content—even relationships."
Lena's eyes widen in warning. "Max?—"
"But Lena's been very patient with me," I continue, unable to stop myself. "Teaching me how to be the perfect boyfriend for her audience. I still struggle with looking natural in photos, but I've mastered the art of the candid fake laugh."
Her friends are watching us like it's a tennis match, confusion evident in their expressions.
"He's joking," Lena says quickly. "Max has an unusual sense of humor."
"No, I'm serious," I counter. "I'm probably the worst fake boyfriend in history. Can't even remember to compliment her Instagram posts without being reminded."
The word "fake" hangs in the air like a bomb. Lena's friends freeze, forks halfway to mouths, expressions cycling through confusion to dawning comprehension.
"Fake?" Sophia repeats cautiously.
"Figure of speech," Lena says, her voice tight. "He means he's still learning the ropes of social media boyfriend etiquette."
"Exactly," I agree, suddenly exhausted by all of it. "Still figuring out the script."
An uncomfortable silence descends. I can feel Lena vibrating with tension beside me, can practically hear her mind racing to do damage control.
"Well, I think you're doing a wonderful job," Mia finally says, though her smile has turned uncertain. "You guys seem really…compatible."
Lena's phone pings with a notification, and she grabs it like a lifeline. "Oh! It's Tori. Something about the charity gala on Friday." She frowns at the screen. "I should call her back. Excuse me for a minute?"
She stands, not waiting for a response, and strides toward the restaurant entrance, phone already at her ear. The moment she's out of earshot, her friends turn to me.
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