Page 14 of Clear Shot

Smile for the officiator.

Kiss my new husband.

Kiss…Aiden.

We’ve kissed before. Before we decided to friend zone each other.

But now we’re married and it’s weird.

His lips are warm, firm on mine without being aggressive. Fingers trail my arm and I stare into shrouded hazel eyes.

My husband.

A man I don’t really know.

“You okay?” he asks quietly.

I manage a little nod. “You?”

“I’m good.” He slides an arm around my waist and we turn as our little group of friends—Johan and Sloane and Anders and Claudia—clap and smile and take pictures.

This shouldn’t feel so real.

I have to remind myself that this is a business arrangement.

Except…we’re married. And we discussed sex.

Which makes it real.

Married with benefits?

Is that even a thing?

“Are you freaking out?” Claudia whispers to me as we hug.

“A little.”

“I don’t know if it helps, but you guys look really cute together.”

“I don’t think it does.”

“He’s a good guy.” Her eyes twinkle. “And a hot one.”

I nod. “He is that.”

“It’s going to be okay,” she says, searching my face. “You’ll see. We’ll find you a job or I’ll hire you myself—and if you’re not happy, you can walk away.”

I know that intellectually, but my emotions are all over the place.

We’re married.

It’s legal. Binding. A commitment despite the prenup I signed and the one-year expiration date we agreed to.

It was so easy when we were talking about it, but now we’re walking out of the courthouse hand in hand—a ridiculously large diamond on my left ring finger—and everything feels off-color. Like my world has tilted on its axis.

The thing is, I don’t know if it’s a good tilt or a bad one.

“You look like you’re not breathing,” Aiden murmurs against my ear. “That will eventually go bad for you.”