Page 13 of How To Fake A Fiancé

Girl, stop. He came to see you for the very same reason you did for him. Don’t delude yourself into thinking it could be anything more than a hookup.

Right, I’m being stupid. Love doesn’t, and never has, existed in one-night stands. What is the matter with me to start questioning that very basic rule? It’s one thing to be bewildered by him and his…talents. But to start questioning my entire belief system after one night?

Reluctantly, I tear my gaze from Ian’s sleeping form and force myself to close the door behind me. The click of the hinge is loud in the silence. I cringe at the noise as I all but run down the hallway. The faster I try to go, the more pain I feel. My legs threaten to fall from under me with every step. I do my best to power walk to the bank of elevators.

A few feet from the elevators, I turn my head back to the room to make sure I’m still in the clear, when I see Ian standing just outside its threshold.

“Wait, uh, red dress,” he calls as he jogs straight toward me. Crap, I’ve been made.

Panic rises in me as I rush to push the down button for one of the elevators. Any elevator. With Ian’s long legs, it probably won’t be long before he catches up to me. I just hope that by the time he does, the doors will close behind me.

But why is he chasing after me? Most guys wouldn’t want to talk to their hookups the morning after. If they do at all, it’s to tell them to see themselves out or ask them nicely to leave. He already got what he wanted. Now that it’s all said and done, I’m no longer needed. At least I shouldn’t be. What else could he possibly want?

The ding of the elevator and the doors sliding open to an empty compartment have me exhaling in a sigh of relief. Rushing inside, I furiously push the close button multiple times. The closer his footsteps sound, the faster my heart beats and the more insistently I press. Not just from the realization that he could get to me before I can leave, but because maybe…something in me is still saying to stop running, to stay.

I shake my head. “I can’t. It meant nothing.”

After what feels like forever, the doors finally begin to close. Just then Ian’s face comes into view. “Wait, I didn’t catch your—”

The doors close before I can hear the end of that sentence. That’s right, I never told him my name. I know his, but he doesn’t know mine. I realize it’s kind of a blessing.

It’s probably for the best.

Soon enough, I’ll just be another faceless woman he had sex with however many nights ago, and he’ll move on to the next flavor of the night.

Friday Evening, September 2

Dallas

Kami

“Why did I choose to wear heels today?” I breathe heavily as I haul ass down the few blocks from the office of KH Industries, the tech company I work at, to a bar I’ve never heard of, called the Brick.

Because you’re a shoe whore.

My wedges threaten to trip me with every step down the pavement. It’s one thing to walk around the bars with girlfriends in these, but to run in them? Hell no, that’s just asking for blisters the next day.

I decide to keep a pace somewhere between a power walk and a jog. Definitely not something I intend to repeat. But regardless, there’s no way in hell I’m missing my bestie getting engaged.

After everything my best friend and now-former roommate, Kiera Young, has gone through, she deserves happiness. Though her relationship with KH Industries co-CEO Jonathan Knight started as rather…unusual, I couldn’t be happier for them.

Despite the fact that it’s now early September, the sun beats down on me like Satan’s ball sack. I wish for a breath of cool wind to hit me.

My orange, knee-length dress flows behind me as I continue down the path. Sweat starts to form on my brow. Ugh, I would have taken a taxi if I’d known it was going to be this hot. Then again, I live in Texas. Summer isn’t over until early November at the earliest.

I sigh in relief as I make the corner and see the sign for the bar Jonathan had said to be at. Today is special, and I’d never forgive myself if I missed this important event.

After trekking the last few steps to the entrance, I pull the door open. Immediately, the cool air conditioning hits my hot skin, welcoming me with seemingly open arms. A few moments of taking in the sweet, cool air pass before I scan the place for familiar, friendly faces.

Looking beyond the cute decorations I know Jonathan’s sister, Mia Knight, and Kiera had put up just hours before, I look from the bar’s wooden decor to the large table stretching across.

I make my way to a waving Mia and Kiera and sit on one of the stools beside them. “Hey, ladies. You did a fantastic job.”

“I couldn’t have done it without Kiera,” Mia praises. She looks stunning in the little black dress I lent her that hugs all her curves and makes her look absolutely gorgeous.

“Oh, no, Mia is the mastermind. I just did whatever she told me to do,” Kiera demurs, her bright smile contagious as ever. I snicker to myself at what’s about to unfold.

Since early July, we’ve had Kiera believing this party was about celebrating the latest deal we’ve made with the top PR guru and fixer in Texas, Maya Thompson.

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