Page 42 of Iris Kelly Doesn't Date

And... Iris wanted it.

That was the real kick in the ass here. If she turned down the role, she could simply walk out the door—with a completely bonkers story to tell Simon on the drive home—and Stevie could carry on with her lie for a few weeks before relaying news of their breakup. Iris didn’t have to do a thing. She could just go back to her life in Bright Falls. She’d help Claire and Delilah plan their wedding, and she’d endure more of her mother’s random setups—hell, maybe Maeve’s gynecologistwassingle—and everything would be just as it had always been. She’d continue to languish over her novel, freaking out on the daily that she was going to have to send back her advance and ruin her career before it even got started, all because she was burned out on romance and couldn’t think of a decent idea, and—

She froze.

Fake dating.

It was one of Iris’s least favorite tropes—she could never really imagine a situation in real life where fake dating would be necessary—and yet... here she was with Stevie-whatever-her-last-name-was standing before her, asking Iris to fake date her.

This might work. Iris had no interest writing the trope into herbook—Tegan McKee didn’t seem like the type, and Iris didn’t know if she could pull it off believably, if she was being honest—but spending time with Stevie in a romantic setting could break through Iris’s block. She could actually experience a little romance. A few dates. Hand holding. Get her head back in the true love game without a single messy string attached.

Because it was all fake.

Plus, she really wanted to do this play. Reading for Beatrice on stage, she’d felt excited. Passionate. It wasfun, and if nothing else, Iris Kelly was all about fun.

“Okay,” Iris said. “But if we do this, I’ll need a few things from you.”

“Wait...” Stevie said. “You actually want to fake date me?”

“I want to fake datesomeone. And I want to do this play, so I think we’re at an impasse whereMuch Adois concerned.”

“I can just tell them the truth,” Stevie said. “I’ll go out there right now and—”

“No way in hell you can do that,” Iris said. “Not if I’m playing Beatrice.” If Stevie admitted to her friends—and her ex, who also happened to be the director—that she puked all over Iris and then lied that they were banging, that would make for some very awkward onstage dynamics. Not to mention the utter humiliation, and Stevie seemed like she’d already had enough of that. It was all a bit too much drama for any one person to take, even in this theatrical setting.

Stevie’s shoulders visibly relaxed, but then her brows crinkled together. “Wait, did you say youwantedto fake date someone?”

Iris grinned. “Well, see, that’s where you can help me—with research.” But before she could explain any further, the door flew open to reveal Simon.

“Hey, there you are,” he said. “That wondrously gorgeous womanout there told me they offered you Beatrice. Iris, that’s amazing! Tell me you’re going to accept. I refuse to let you pass—”

He froze, his gaze darting to Stevie.

“Oh. Sorry to interrupt,” he said. “I was just... hang on.” His pushed up his glasses, then pointed his finger at Stevie. “Aren’t you the throw-up girl?”

“Simon, Jesus,” Iris said.

“Sorry, just... well, aren’t you?” Simon asked, his face an amalgam of confusion and amusement.

“Um, yeah... I guess that’s me,” Stevie said, swallowing over and over again like she just might do an encore of the vomit incident itself.

“She’s also playing Benedick,” Iris said, then grabbed Stevie’s hand and laced their fingers together, “as well as my fake girlfriend.”

A charged silence spilled in between them. Simon blinked at her, his mouth open, and Iris fought the urge to laugh.

“Isn’t telling people we’re fake dating sort of defeating the purpose?” Stevie asked quietly.

“With your crew, yes,” Iris said. “My group? They’d never buy it.”

“Why not?” Stevie asked.

“Because Iris doesn’t do girlfriends,” Simon said slowly, his expression still a model ofWhat the fuck?

“Or partners of any kind,” Iris said. “But it’s fine. I don’t need you to convince my friends that you love me. I just need you to hang out with me a little,actlike my girlfriend, maybe go on a few romantic dates so I can get a feel for what it’s like again.”

“For whatwhat’slike?” Stevie asked.

“Love,” Iris said, waving a hand. “Romance. You know, soul mates and stars and moons and all that shit.”