Page 28 of The Enemy of My Enemy Is… My Fake Boyfriend?

As fortunate as I was to have them, to have a supportive family, I craved more. Something intangible I couldn't name, but something missing nonetheless, something I'd never had before.

Not that I thought Ethan had it or could provide it. Not in a million years.

"I assume you've seen the latest," he said. "From a few hours ago."

"What? No." I'd already been tortured with their coffee shop hand holding, plus photos of them exiting not one but two different Manhattan hot spots with their arms entwined, smiling at each other like they were madly in love.

He pulled his phone from his pocket. "Brace yourself."

Oh, God, what? How could it get any worse? As I wondered exactly how to brace myself, Ethan brought whatever it was up on his screen and handed his phone to me.

The first thing I noticed was a couple kissing, and I groaned out loud at the realization that the grainy photo was indeed Hannah and Chase. Lovely.

"On a rooftop bar in SoHo," Ethan said. "Picture courtesy of a fellow patron, and theysupposedlydidn't know."

He snatched his phone from my hand. "Hey, I wasn't done," I protested.

"You don't need to read the stupid article."

Immediately my hackles were raised. "Why? What does it say?"

He shifted, his big body taking up a large amount of space. "Just more of the same really. How in love they looked, how enamored they are of each other, that they, uh, couldn't keep their hands off each other, all that bullshit."

Needing to do something, anything, I took a long drink from my beer, letting it wash down the whiskey aftertaste.

The bartender made a noise from across the room, catching our attention. "Hey, Ethan, order up," he said, placing two big plates on the bar.

I scooted my chair back, intending to help with the food, but Ethan stood up instead, putting an arm out to stop me. "I got it."

He left his phone sitting on the table, and it struck me that that was a very trusting thing to do. Chase never, ever did that.

In the brief time Ethan was away, he received several notifications. His screen was face down, so I couldn't sneak a peek. Not that I would have. Although I was tempted, just to find out more about this enigma of a man.

Ethan's private life was an absolute mystery to me. I had no idea where he lived, who he hung out with, or if he had a girlfriend. For all I knew, he could be married. Maybe he even had a kid or two hidden away somewhere.

He came back, setting down the plates piled high with French fries and big, juicy burgers that made my mouth water.

Nearly half his burger was gone before I'd even finished putting ketchup on my plate, the bottle making that awful squelching sound. Normally, I'd be embarrassed, but Ethan didn't even seem to notice.

I nibbled on some fries that happened to be delicious, that perfect amount of crispy on the outside and potatoey on the inside, my thoughts from before about Ethan still on my mind.

"You're not married, are you?" I blurted out.

He scoffed. "What? No. I'm not married."

"What about kids?"

"What about them?"

Was he deliberately trying to be obtuse? "Do you have any?"

His eyes narrowed as he took a drink of his beer. "No."

"Girlfriend?" I just had to keep going, didn't I?

At that question, he grinned at me, and there were those damn dimples again. "Why? You curious about me?"

"What? No. I mean, a little. I just want to know more about who I'm getting in bed with."

---