Page 5

"Oh god," I mutter.

"I bet you can't make it through this fake relationship without catching real feelings."

Drew perks up immediately. "Good call. Thirty days of pretending to be into someone? Max doesn't have the emotional detachment for that."

"Excuse me?" I scoff. "I'm perfectly capable of keeping things professional."

"Are you, though?" Ryan's grin is shark-like. "Remember Kayla from your band days? You wrote a song about her after two dates."

"That was different. I was twenty-four."

"And Sophie, the girl from the coffee shop?" Drew adds. "You brought her soup when she called in sick after knowing her for a week."

"That's called being a decent human being."

"That's called being a softie who falls too fast," Ryan counters. "Face it, man. You're a romantic masquerading as a cynic. No way you make it through a month of hand-holding and googly eyes without developing actual feelings."

I feel heat creeping up my neck. "You're both full of shit."

"Then prove us wrong." Ryan extends his hand. "If you make it through thirty days of fake dating without developing real feelings for this woman, I'll cover your share of the rent for a month."

My apartment isn't cheap. A month of rent is enough to make me hesitate. "And if I lose?"

"You admit we were right," Drew says. "And you have to play at Ryan's birthday party."

The request hits me like a sucker punch. They know I haven't picked up my guitar for a public performance in over a year. Not since I walked away from music entirely.

"Low blow," I mutter.

"Is it, though?" Ryan's voice softens slightly. "You're wasting your talent bartending, Max. One performance won't kill you."

I stare at the condensation forming on my beer bottle, following a droplet as it races down the glass. The thought of performing again sends a familiar knot of anxiety twisting in my stomach. But the confidence in their faces—the absolute certainty that I'll develop feelings for Lena—rankles more.

"Fine." I clasp Ryan's hand. "It's a bet. But I need to establish the parameters. What constitutes 'catching feelings'?"

Drew laughs. "Oh, we'll know. You get this dopey look?—"

"I do not get a dopey look."

"You absolutely do," Ryan confirms. "But fine, let's be specific. You lose if you: one, admit to having real feelings for her; two, get jealous of other guys around her; three, start doing thoughtful shit that goes beyond the fake relationship requirements; or four, try to extend the arrangement past the thirty days."

I nod slowly. "Seems fair. But I get to define what goes 'beyond requirements.' She's already sent me a literal handbook of couple behaviors."

Ryan's eyebrows shoot up. "A handbook? Jesus, what kind of woman is this?"

"The organized kind," I mutter, thinking of Lena's meticulous text messages.

"This is going to be the easiest rent money I've ever made," Ryan says smugly.

"Don't be so sure." I drain my beer, a new determination settling over me. "I've changed since my 'falling too fast' days. This is strictly business."

My phone buzzes with another text. I glance down to see Lena's name:

Forgot to mention – we need to coordinate outfits for our first public appearance. Nothing matching (too cheesy), but complementary color schemes work well for photos. What's your wardrobe situation?

Drew peers over my shoulder and bursts out laughing. "Oh yeah, strictly business. Good luck with that, Romeo."

I flip him off and type a noncommittal response, ignoring the sinking feeling that I may have just made a massive mistake.