Page 12 of Fake Engagement with my Brother's Best Friend

“Yeah, there’s a reason for that,” I snap, yanking my arm free from her grasp. “We broke up over a year ago, Samantha. You’re not part of this wedding, you’re not part of my life anymore. So why are you here? Why are you trying to chat me up like nothing ever happened?”

Her eyes flash with something—anger, maybe, or guilt—but she quickly masks it with that infuriating calm she’s always been so good at. “I’m friends with Emily and Joseph. I was invited, Logan. I have every right to be here.”

“Maybe,” I concede, but my patience is wearing thin. “That doesn’t give you the right to act like everything between us is fine. It’s not. You cheated on me, remember? We’re done.”

Samantha’s expression falters for a moment, and I can see the cracks in her facade. Instead of backing off, she presses on, her voice turning cold. “What about Grace, then? That engagement happened very quickly, didn’t it? I can’t help but wonder if you’re just trying to prove something to yourself. Or maybe you were the one cheating.”

Her words hit a nerve, but I refuse to let her see it. I step closer, lowering my voice to a dangerous whisper. “Grace has nothing to do with you. Or us. What we have is none of your business.”

She scoffs, crossing her arms. “You expect me to believe that you suddenly foundthe oneright after we broke up? Please, Logan. I know you better than that.”

“No, you don’t,” I say, my voice laced with finality. “You lost that right when you betrayed me. Whatever you’re trying to do here, it’s not going to work. So just go away, Samantha. Leave Grace and me alone.”

She opens her mouth to argue, but I’m already turning away, done with the conversation. I can’t waste any more time on her—not when Grace is out there, slipping further out of my reach with every passing second.

Samantha’s voice fades into the background as I stride away, my thoughts entirely consumed by Grace. Every second that passes feels like she’s slipping further away from me, and the knot of urgency in my chest tightens. I have to find her, have to talk to her, before this all spirals even more out of control.

I head straight for the suite, taking the stairs two at a time, not trusting the elevator to get me there fast enough. By the time I reach the door, I’m breathless, my heart pounding for reasons that have nothing to do with the climb. I hesitate for just a moment, gathering myself, before I push the door open.

Grace is standing by the window, her back to me, staring out at the night. The light from the room casts a soft glow around her, but there’s a tension in her posture that tells me she’s anything but calm. I take a step inside, closing the door behind me, but she doesn’t turn around.

“Grace,” I start, my voice more uncertain than I’d like. “We need to talk.”

She finally turns to face me, her expression guarded, her eyes dark and unreadable. “There’s nothing to talk about, Logan. We’re just doing what we agreed to, right? Keeping up the act.”

The way she says it—so detached, so distant—makes something inside me snap. I close the distance between us in a few quick strides, frustration and something deeper boiling over. “This isn’t just an act, and you know it. I’m not interested in Samantha, or anyone else. Why the hell can’t you see that?”

She crosses her arms, her jaw tight, refusing to meet my gaze. “Why should I care, Logan? It’s not like this is real. We’re just pretending, remember?”

Her words hit me like a slap, and I feel the frustration twist into something sharper. I step even closer, my voice low and fierce. “Don’t do that, Grace. Don’t pretend like you don’t care when we both know that’s bullshit.”

She finally looks at me, her eyes flashing with anger and something that looks a lot like hurt. “You loved her, didn’t you? You loved Samantha.”

The question takes me off guard, and for a moment, I can’t find the words. I know I can’t leave it hanging there, not with everything at stake. “Yeah,” I admit, the truth coming out in a rough whisper. “I did love her. That doesn’t mean we were good for each other; it sure as hell doesn’t mean I want her back.”

Grace blinks, clearly not expecting that. “But… she was everything you wanted. Perfect, beautiful, polished. Why wouldn’t you want that again?”

I shake my head, the frustration giving way to something softer, more vulnerable. “She was never what I needed, Grace. We weren’t good together. We brought out the worst in each other, and that’s why it ended. What we had… it wasn’t real, not in the way that matters.”

Grace stares at me, her defenses cracking just a little, and I can see the struggle in her eyes. “So what do you want, Logan? If it’s not her, if it’s not some perfect image, then what?”

Her question hangs in the air, and for a moment, I’m at a loss. Part of me wants to admit that I’m just as confused as she is, that maybe there’s something more between us that I haven’t figured out yet. I can’t. The words stick in my throat, and instead of facing what’s right in front of me, I feel that old, familiar defense mechanism kick in—the one that makes me snap when I’m too close to something real.

“You’re only getting upset because of what happened on the hike,” I shoot back, the words coming out harsher than I intend. “You wanted this stupid fake engagement, right? So why are you acting like it’s something more? You have no right to be jealous when it’s not real.”

Grace’s eyes widen, her hurt turning into anger as she processes what I just said. “Jealous? You think I’m jealous of Samantha? That I’m just reacting to… to whatever that was on the hike?” Her voice rises, and I can see the tension building in her shoulders, the way she’s trying to hold back her emotions.

I know I’ve crossed a line, but I can’t stop myself. The words keep spilling out, driven by the frustration and confusion I can’tseem to shake. “Yeah, I do, because this was your idea, Grace! You wanted the fake engagement, you wanted to keep your family off your back. So why are you getting so worked up over something that isn’t even real?”

Her expression hardens, and I can see the wall going back up, brick by brick. “You’re such an ass, Logan. I thought—” She stops herself, biting her lip, but I can see the words she’s holding back, the ones that would probably make everything worse.

“What? You thought what?” I press, even though I know I shouldn’t. The tension in the room is suffocating, and I can feel the argument spiraling out of control, but I can’t seem to back down.

Grace shakes her head, her voice trembling with barely restrained anger. “I thought you were better than this. I thought you could at least be honest with yourself, with me. You’re just hiding behind this stupid act, pretending like nothing matters when it clearly does.”

Her words hit me like a punch to the gut, and suddenly, the urge to say something cruel, something I’ll definitely regret, is overwhelming. I can feel it bubbling up, but before I can lash out, I turn on my heel and head for the balcony door.

I step outside, the cool night air hitting me like a splash of cold water. I grip the railing tightly, forcing myself to take deep breaths, to calm down before I say something that will push her away for good. The sound of the waves crashing against the shore below does little to soothe the storm raging inside me.

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