Page 11 of Fake Engagement with my Brother's Best Friend

“I’ve heard of you,” Samantha says smoothly, her smile polite but not warm. “It’s nice to finally meet you in person.”

“Nice to meet you too,” I reply, though my voice is strained, too tight. I slide into the empty chair beside Emily, trying not to feel the way Samantha’s presence seems to suck all the air out of the room.

Joseph leans back in his chair, clearly relaxed, oblivious to the tension I’m feeling. “Samantha’s just in town for a few days, thought she’d drop by and catch up.”

“Of course,” I say, forcing another smile. All I can think about is Logan—how he’ll react when he sees her, what this means for whatever it is that’s happening between us. If there was ever a time I didn’t want to be alone with my thoughts, it’s now.

Chapter Six

Logan

I make my way to the dining area, still feeling the lingering effects of the tension between Grace and me. My thoughts are all over the place, and I’m hoping dinner will be a distraction, something to clear my head. The second I step onto the terrace and see Samantha sitting with Joseph and Emily, that hope vanishes.

Samantha. Of course, she’d show up here.

I know she’s still sort of friends with Emily and Joseph, but I never expected to see her here, now, after everything that’s happened today. My stomach tightens, and I instantly regret coming down for dinner. All I wanted was a quiet meal, maybe a chance to talk to Grace, but now…

Samantha looks up as I approach the table, her eyes narrowing slightly before she smooths her expression into a practiced smile. “Logan,” she says, her tone as smooth as ever, like we’re old friends catching up instead of exes who haven’t spoken in months. “Long time no see.”

I force a tight smile, but my heart isn’t in it. “Samantha,” I acknowledge, keeping my voice neutral. I slip into the empty chair next to Grace, who’s staring down at her menu, pretending to be completely absorbed in it. The tension radiating off her is palpable, and I can’t help but notice the way her shoulders are stiff, her jaw tight. She’s not looking at me, but I can tell she knows exactly what’s going on.

As we settle in, the waiter comes by to take our drink orders. Samantha immediately starts chatting to me, her voice light,casual, as if she’s trying to pick up where we left off. “So, what have you been up to, Logan? Still running that company of yours? I’ve heard it’s doing really well.”

I nod, keeping my answers short. “Yeah, it’s going well. Busy as always.”

She leans in slightly, her tone turning just a touch more personal. “We should catch up properly while I’m here. Maybe grab a drink later?”

I can feel Grace stiffen beside me, and that’s when it hits me—she’s jealous. The realization is like a jolt to my system, making me see everything in a different light. Grace has been distant since that kiss in the woods, but now, with Samantha here, she’s practically radiating tension. Not just any tension—jealousy.

I never expected Grace to feel anything more than what we agreed to, but seeing her like this, so clearly affected by Samantha’s presence, it makes me wonder if there’s more to this than I realized. Maybe Grace’s feelings run deeper than she’s letting on.

Samantha keeps talking, but I’m barely paying attention, my focus shifting entirely to Grace. I try to engage her, leaning closer and lowering my voice. “Grace, what do you think about grabbing dinner at that little beachside place tomorrow? Just the two of us.”

She doesn’t look up, her eyes still fixed on the menu. “Maybe,” she says, her tone clipped, dismissive. It’s clear she’s doing everything she can to ignore me, but her clenched jaw and the way she’s practically crushing the menu in her hands tell me all I need to know.

Samantha doesn’t miss the interaction, and I can see the faint smirk on her lips as she glances between us. “You two seem close,” she remarks, her voice dripping with curiosity.

I don’t hesitate. “We are,” I say firmly, my gaze still on Grace. “Very close. Actually, we’re engaged.”

Grace finally looks up at that, her eyes meeting mine, and for a brief moment, there’s something raw and vulnerable in her expression. It’s gone just as quickly, replaced by a mask of indifference.

“Can you pass the water, Logan?” she asks, her voice so flat it’s almost painful. I hand her the water jug, and she takes it without another word, turning her attention back to the table like she’s trying to block everything out.

The rest of the dinner goes by in a blur. Samantha keeps trying to engage me in conversation, but I’m not interested. My mind is too tangled up in Grace, in the way she’s acting, in the jealousy that’s so clearly eating at her. It’s messing with my head, making me question everything about this fake engagement, about the kiss we shared earlier.

By the time the waiter brings our drinks, I’m barely holding onto my patience. All I want is to get Grace alone, to talk to her, to figure out what the hell is going on between us. But she won’t even look at me, and the more she shuts me out, the more I’m convinced that there’s something real here—something neither of us was ready for.

As the night drags on, I find myself growing more frustrated, more determined to get to the bottom of this. I can’t let things stay like this, with Grace closing herself off and Samantha hovering like some unwanted ghost from my past. I need toknow if what I think is happening is real, or if this is just another layer of the mess we’ve created.

When dinner finally ends, I stand up, ready to make my move. Grace is already excusing herself, mumbling something about needing to get some fresh air, and before I can stop her, she’s gone, disappearing into the night.

Every instinct in me screams to go after her, to fix whatever it is that’s unraveling between us. But before I can take a step, I feel a hand on my arm.

“Logan,” Samantha’s voice cuts through my thoughts, pulling me back to the present. I turn to face her, and the frustration that’s been simmering all evening boils over.

“What do you want, Samantha?” My voice comes out harsher than I intended, but I don’t care. I’m done playing nice.

She flinches slightly, but then her expression hardens, her eyes narrowing. “I just wanted to catch up. It’s been a while.”

---