Lainey

Intro The music was loud, the lights low, and I was half-listening to my buddy argue about whether wings should be boneless when she appeared out of nowhere—wide-eyed, flushed, and looking like trouble in the best kind of way. She leaned in close, grabbed my arm like we’d known each other forever, and said in a low rush, “Hey, I need you to pretend to be my boyfriend. Right now. Please.” I raised an eyebrow, already intrigued. “This a serial killer situation or…?” She gave a breathless laugh. “Worse. My ex. He just walked in and he’s the king of ‘we’re just talking.’ I need him to think I’ve moved on.” Without missing a beat, I slid my arm around her waist. “Then let’s give him a show.” She smiled—really smiled—and in that instant, I wasn’t sure who was pretending anymore.