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Besides, even if he comes with me, it’s not like I’ll have to spend twenty-four seven with him. We’re talking about a house on an island, and knowing Uncle Kaplan, the thing he called a cottage is likely a mini mansion.

Then there’s the series of texts I received from Alden. He was losing his mind over the fact that I was dating Loomis Powell. He told me to come to his place and stay there so I’d be safe from the press. He told me Loomis was just using me and that I meant nothing to him. He said Loomis would never love me. Not the way he does.

I haven’t responded to him.

I don’t want to miss Alden. I don’t want to think about what our relationship was and ultimately what it wasn’t. Or what I was to him. An afterthought. A hindsight. That’s how he made me feel. Like I wasn’t originally enough, but hindsight is wonderful.

Too little, too late, and I deserve better.

I do. And I don’t want the temptation of going back to him because part of me sees that if he continues to try to win me back, I might.

But right now, with this question to Loomis, I’m actually testing a theory.

“I can’t do that to you, Keegan. Not only will the press attempt to follow us, but it will perpetuate the illusion that we’re a couple and keep you unnecessarily in the spotlight. Your name, your face, slanderous rubbish that tabloids like to spread just to get clicks and sell magazines—they’ll be everywhere. You’re a Fritz, so I have to imagine that will naturally be worse than it otherwise would be.”

And that. That right there tells me everything.

The fact that he didn’t automatically jump all over the idea for his own gain and is actually trying to talk me out of it toprotect me tells me that he’s not trying to take advantage of me as Alden said he was.

“You said it to me before. If the world thinks we’re together, it can help you.”

He frowns. “Love, I wasn’t being serious.”

“You sure about that?”

He looks away, his jaw tight. He doesn’t answer because he can’t. I knew part of him was serious when he suggested marriage even if he tried to blow it off as a joke. I won’t marry him. Sorel and Mason did that, and while I’m willing to help, marriage is a step too far for me, and I don’t think it’ll be necessary for either of us.

“Would it help you?” I press.

He blinks, utterly blindsided by my question. “I…” He swallows thickly and peers over at Fen and then back at me with a contrite scowl. “Yes. It would help.”

I thought so. Maybe this is dumb. Maybe this is going to be the stupidest thing I’ve ever done, but playing it safe never got me anywhere. It’s all I’ve ever done. Kenna said it. I’ve been afraid to take risks with myself and my life, and where has that gotten me?

Afraid to tell people I’m an author. Men dating me while it’s convenient for them and passing me along when they’re ready for something better. I’m over it. I want the risk. I want to take chances even if they seem stupid to everyone else. I’m so tired of caring what others think. It’s exhausting.

And I want to help Loomis and Fen.

It’s who I am. And I know I’ll regret it if I don’t. Besides, I’ve already promised to safeguard myself, and I will. Loomis isn’t interested in me that way anyway, so it won’t be a problem.

“I think it’d help me too.”

“With Alden?” he questions, searching my eyes.

“Yes.”

“Are you sure, Keegan? Are you absolutely positive about this? Please think through what you’re saying to me,” he urges. “Because you’re potentially saving my life, but this feels like I’m ruining yours, and I can’t tolerate that as an option for you.”

“The world has a short attention span. We won’t have to do this fake relationship thing for long. A few weeks or months at the most. They’ll move on from this quickly enough after that, and hopefully by then things will be secure for you and Fen, and Alden will have moved on too, and I can simply go back to my life. People already know me as Keegan Fritz. I doubt there’s much they can add to that, and it’s not like I have a bunch of skeletons in my closet for them to find.”

Except as I say that last part, I pause. I do have some skeletons. One with a different name and a new book deal.

“Holy Christmas, is this really happening?” Estlin cries, disturbing the deafening silence around us. “Are you actually going away together as a fake couple?”

“Look,” Jack cuts in before anyone can answer. “I’m not Team Alden or anything since I know how hurt you were when he ended things, but for whatever it’s worth, I also know he greatly regrets it, and I think he really does love you.”

Jack’s words hit that spot inside of me. The one I’ve been trying to ignore and push aside.

I glance over at him. “Youthink?”