Page 72 of Role Play
I busy myself rearranging books, avoiding his stare. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means you called her your girlfriend to a bookstore clerk you’ll never see again,” Saylor reminds me. “That’s not part of thedeal, is it?”
“It was easier?—”
“It was instinct,” Taio intuits. “And we all know why.”
I close my eyes briefly, exhaling through my nose. “Don’t start.”
“You like her,” Saylor says simply. “The real kind of like, not the professional kind.”
“I barely know her,” I protest, but it sounds weak even to my own ears.
“Doesn’t matter,” Taio says. “I saw your face when you came home with that boba tea in your hand. I know that look.”
“What look?”
“The ‘I want this one for real’ look,” Saylor supplies helpfully. “Bet it’s the same one you had when you met Hannah.”
A jolt of alarm turns the blood pumping through my veins too hot. “This is nothing like Hannah.”
“No, it’s worse,” Taio says. “Because with Hannah, you were just a college kid with nothing to lose. Now you’ve got Dakota, and debts, and a job that makes dating…complicated.”
“It’s not dating. It’s an arrangement.”
“An arrangement to live together and act out romantic fantasies,” Saylor points out. “While you’re clearly already halfway gone for her.”
“Yeah, careful,” Taio interrupts, his expression unusually serious. “You don’t want to blur the lines. It takes one jilted date seeking revenge to take us all down. Don’t toe that line, man.” He circles his face with his finger. “You see this handsome mug? I like my job. I’m good at it. This is not the face of a man flipping burgers at Micky D’s, okay? Keep it in line for all our sakes.”
He’s right. In our line of work, emotional entanglement is the cardinal sin. In a way, we’re a brotherhood, and sticking to the rules protects all of us, and Rina. I’ve never tested that boundary.
Until now.
“Look,” I say, dragging a hand through my hair. “I know what I’m doing. This is about Dakota. About getting her away from Hannah’s fucked-up boarding school plan. The arrangement with Sora is mutually beneficial. That’s all. I swear.”
Neither Taio nor Saylor look convinced, but they mercifully drop the subject.
“So what have we learned?” Saylor asks, gesturing at the shelves surrounding us.
I survey the romance section, trying to organize my thoughts. “Romantasy is trending, especially with younger readers. Dark romance for the adrenaline junkies. Historical for the escapists. Contemporary for the realists.”
“And tropes are key,” Taio adds, unexpectedly insightful. “Brother’s best friend, enemies to lovers, only one bed—readers go wild for that shit.”
“One bed?” I repeat.
“You know, forced proximity,” Taio explains with the air of a professor addressing particularly slow students. “Two people who have to share a space—preferably a bed—against their will. Snowstorms, power outages, booking mix-ups.”
“How do you know all this?”
Taio shifts uncomfortably. “I might follow a few romance reviewers.”
“A few?”
“A handful. Like…twenty.”
Saylor bursts out laughing. “Closet softie.”
“Shut up,” Taio grumbles. “They’re better company than you.”
