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But neither of us moves away.

The way he’s looking at me sends my pulse careening toward the danger zone while alarm bells blare in my ears. He may be doing this for effect, acting the role as he does so well, but my heart doesn’t know that. She’s easily confused and has trouble telling real from fake.

Good thing my head knows it’s the latter.

I step back and force his hands to fall. “How was that?”

“Good. Better.”

“Great.” I force a smile. “I think we’ve got that figured out now.”

Tomorrow there are goingto be pictures of me on the internet. Pictures of me with Loomis and holding Fen. Pictures of us that will be “leaked” from the phones of our friends. Add to that, social services is coming here in two days. As if we’re not already nervous enough about that, we got an alert on the Alexa that a storm is expected overnight with high winds, thunder, lightning, and a lot of rain. It’s making my already jittery nerves, well, more jittery. I have to lie to social services and pretend I’m Loomis’s girlfriend.

Me. A woman who isn’t particularly known for lying all that well.

On a bright note, I did get some writing done. I officially started book two and am about two thousand words into it. That might not seem like a lot, but considering my dominant wrist and hand are broken, those two thousand felt like a miracle. I’m also excited for this story. It’s one I’ve had in my head for awhile, and the words are anxious to get out. I just have to find a faster way to do that because typing one-handed was insanely frustrating and slow.

But first things first. I call my aunt Layla because a long time ago, when Katy was a little girl, she lost her parents and went to live with her uncle Callan, and Layla posed as his fake fiancée for child services so Callan could win custody. Obviously they fell madly in love since they’ve been married forever, and Katy is now the same age I am. But if anyone can pep talk me through this, it’s her.

“Hey!” Layla exclaims. “I was hoping I’d hear from you. How’s it going?”

“It’s going,” I say in a low voice so Loomis doesn’t hear me since I’m in my bedroom and I think he’s in his. Or maybe he’s in the shower. Dammit, there goes the blush. Nope. Won’t think about Loomis in the shower. “So, you know how I’m here to get away from the press situation and relax?”

“Yeah,” she says slowly.

“Well, Loomis is here too.”

She’s silent for a beat, and then she tells Callan she’ll be upstairs, and I hear her moving at a quick pace before a door shuts.

“What do you mean Loomis is there too? Does your mom know?”

I would laugh at her question about my mother knowing, considering I’m thirty-one years old, except nothing right now is funny.

“Yes, they know. It’s been a crazy two days, and I haven’t had time to call since we got here. I’ll call them in the morning because shortly after that, there will be pictures leaked on the internet and I want to give them a heads-up about it. He’s here to escape the press and gain a bit of freedom, same as me, but now social services are coming to pay a visit.”

“Oh, fuck. Are you… you totally are. That’s why you’re calling me. You’re fake dating the movie star. Just tell me you’re not engaged or married to him.”

“No. Just fake dating.”

“Keegan Hannah Fritz, what in theHollywood Squaresare you thinking?”

“Pot calling the kettle black, for two thousand, Alex.”

“Fine. Touché. But that was?—”

“How was it different, Layla? Straight facts, tell me. Because they’re coming, and originally I was pretending to be his fake girlfriend to stop myself from going back to Alden and to show him that I’m moving on, and so Loomis, who is a newly single father, looks good to the press and the studio and social services. But I didn’t think I’d ever have to talk to them, and I didn’t think I’d have to take pictures of my fake relationship. I figured it’d just be something that looked good to the outside world, and that would be that.”

Yet, as I say that to her, I realize I haven’t thought about Alden since I got on the plane. Not yesterday and not at all today. I haven’t checked my phone much either, and I know he’s texted, but I’ve ignored it completely. And I’m not… missing him anymore. No, my mind has been occupied with a different man, who is both real and fake. A man who should not be occupying my thoughts.

“Fine. Okay. So what are you asking me? Because if you’re about to ask if it was worth lying to social services so Cal could keep Katy, you already know my answer is a resounding yes. But it’s not a small thing, and it wasn’t a small thing for me to initially agree to. It was a big deal and required a complete upheaval of my life and a lot of lying to people. Especially since I was actively trying not to get emotionally involved with Callan, which I’m assuming is your situation with Loomis.”

I fall back on the bed and stare up at the rattan ceiling fan going around and around. Outside I can hear the storm starting to brew, and it fills me with unease. I don’t like storms. Not even a little. I’m sure most people don’t, but I’m stuck on an island in the damn ocean, and if that isn’t scary as fuck, I don’t know what is.

“I won’t get emotionally involved with him,” I tell her resolutely because I won’t do that to myself again. I’m tired of wanting men who never want me back. Not the way I deserve. “I’m just… I’m worried about it. I’m worried about lying. I mean, hello, you know how good of a liar I am. What if I say the wrong thing or hurt him in some way?”

“I bet you’re a better liar than you give yourself credit for, and if motivated enough, I think you’ll be fine. The key is believing in the lie. I don’t mean believe your lie, I mean believe in thereasonyou’re lying enough that your heart and convictions speak for you. You sound like you’re in on this plan, so beinon it. All the way because that’s what Child and Family Services needs to see.”

I’m nodding, though she can’t see me. That all sounds good. Very reasonable, and it makes a lot of sense.