Rachel sweeps in before I can put more distance between us. She looks at me and then eyes the blanket crumpled on the floor and smirks. “Well, well. Looks like you two are getting very comfortable.”

I shoot her a glare. “Nothing happened.”

She just grins knowingly. “Sure. Just remember, this arrangement has an expiration date. Six months, and then you’re done playing house.”

I nod stiffly, ignoring the strange twinge in my chest. Right. Six months. That’s all this is.

“Hope you slept well because you’re all over the internet.” Rachel grins. “The world is very invested in you two right now.”

I smile in anticipation, shifting closer. “What about the movie reviews? What are they saying about The Oasis? About my acting?”

Rachel’s lips press together for a brief second before she shrugs. “They mentioned it. But let’s be real—it’s being overshadowedby this whole engagement thing. The public is eating up the romance angle.”

Disappointment settles deep in my chest. “So that’s it? No real discussion about my performance? Just me and Nate’s fake engagement?”

Rachel waves a dismissive hand. “It’s publicity, Lacey. Good or bad, it’s still attention. We need to take advantage of it.”

I exhale slowly. This isn’t why I worked so hard. I want to be recognized for my talent, not just for who I’m pretending to be engaged to.

I brace myself as Nate scrolls, his expression shifting between amusement and resignation. When he finally looks up at me, his blue eyes are thoughtful. There’s something heavier beneath the surface, something unreadable. Like he’s starting to care…

I steel myself. I need to focus on my career and prove that I belong in this industry because of my talent, not because of a fake engagement to a rockstar.

Even if that rockstar is staring at me like he’s memorizing every detail of my face—even if resisting him is getting harder by the day.

He suddenly grins, and his blue eyes gleam with mischief.

“Well, Lacey,” he drawls, “looks like we’re stuck being the internet’s favorite new couple.”

I lean forward my hand out. “Show me,” I say with a grimace.

He passes me the phone, and I scroll through headline after headline:

“Wild’s Nate Stone and Rising Star Lacey Monroe: Hollywood’s Hottest New Romance?”

“From Stage to Screen: Inside Music and Movie’s Latest Power Couple”

“Sources Say: Stone and Monroe - Rumors of Wedding Plans”

Each article features photos from last night—us at the after-party, his hand on my lower back as we walked the red carpet, the way he looked at me during interviews. They make us look like we’re hopelessly in love.

“This is—“ I start, then stop, unsure how to finish that sentence. This is what we want: Our fake engagement to be believable. And if it isn’t what I need right now? If it isn’t part of my plan? Too bad. Suck it up girl.

Rachel’s watching me carefully. “The studio’s thrilled, by the way. Your name recognition just shot through the roof.”

I glance over at Nate, but his face is unreadable. “I guess we looked convincing,” I say with a smirk, trying to lighten the mood. He never asked for any of this—any more than I did.

I stand, turning to look at him. “I really do appreciate you coming all the way out to the West Coast just to support my premier.”

He must hear the sincerity in my voice because his features suddenly soften. “I did it mainly to supportyou.”

The honesty of his words sends a warmth coursing through me.

Rachel clears her throat, giving both of us a warning look. “We’ll see you next weekend, Nate. I’ll send you both the prepared schedule.” With that, she leaves the hotel room without a backward glance.

As soon as Rachel leaves, Nate stands and crosses the room, stopping just short of touching me. “Maybe we should tell the truth about the hotel mix-up.”

I shake my head. “They’d never believe us now.”