Page 60 of Friends Don't Kiss

Fifteen minutes later, he’s here. “D’you work on it all day?” he half-jokes as I print out his invoice.

“Matter-of-fact, I did,” I admit. “Figured you’d want her back soon. And I wanted to make sure there were no parts I needed to order. Once I got started, I was just as well getting it done.”

“Makes sense,” he says, sliding his credit card through the terminal. “All the same, I really appreciate what you did. And I meant what I said earlier—if you need anything, let me know.”

I take a deep breath.Nothing ventured, nothing gained.“Well, actually, there is something you could help me with.”

I’m expecting some hesitation, some weariness. But I get a big grin. “What is it?”

I take him to the back room and tell him my idea. “I need someone whose voice she won’t recognize,” I summarize to drive the point home that I really need him.

“Uh-huh. That sounds illegal, but whatever. I trust you. You don’t strike me as a serial killer.”

It should give me pause that this stranger points out he’s asked to do something illegal, but he’s fine as long as nokillingis involved. Holy shit, what kind of a world is this? I could take this as a sign that what I’m about to do is seriously messed up, but I don’t. Because it’s a sign that I’m saving Kiara from people who only stop at serial killing. Like there isn’t a whole range of nasty stuff that could happen to her in between.

He scratches his stubble pensively. “Okay,” he says, moving on. “So I’m to impersonate this fake person you created on the app. When’s the phone call? What does this guy do in life? Supposedly.”

“I didn’t mention his job.”

“Good, gives us options.”

“Right. For hobbies, I said he’s a foodie and—”

“Foodie, that’s gonna be tough, man.” He chuckles. “I guess I’ll spin it.” Then he full-on laughs, a deep, stomach laugh that makes me wonder for a split second if I’m making a monumental mistake. But it’s not like I have any other options. Kiara and I know all the same people, and I’m not about to ask one of my racing friends for that favor. They’d screw it up massively. For some reason, I trust this guy is up to the task. And he’s giving me good vibes. “What else?” he asks.

“The outdoors.” The profile saysOutdoorsy. What the hell does that even mean?

“M’kay. Music? D’you mention your musical tastes?”

Shit. That would have been a good one. “I didn’t think about it.”

The guy makes a face, then sighs. “Well, what else would make her agree to a date?”

I open my mouth, then shut it.

“Mate, you want this woman or what?”

“I do.”

“Then you better know what she likes, or… sorry to say, but you’re not the right person for her.”

“Safety. She needs safety. She needs to feel loved and cared for and she needs to understand she’s already the center of my universe, and if she’s mine, she’ll feel it to her bones, so much so she won’t even need me anymore. I’ll build her back up. I know I will.”

“You really love her, don’t you?”

“I do.”

“Then why the hell can’t you tell me what would make her go on a date with a dude she picked on an app?”

Because that’s not her. Because she’s scared shitless to open up. “Friends. She’ll need her friends around. Tell her you want to meet her friends, and just have a beer or something at-at-at… Lazy’s!”

“The pub in town?”

“Yeah. It’s her turf. She’ll feel safe.”

The guy shakes his head. “Let’s say she agrees. Then what? She walks in, sees you, sits somewhere else so she can meet her date, then you sit and tell her it was you all along?”

Put like that, this plan sucks. Why the hell did Willow think this was going to be a great idea?

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