Niall: To make this look good, we should get to know each other a little better. What do you say we go out just the two of us? No kids.
This is where life throws a curveball I don’t expect. I know I willingly gave him my number, so, logically, the fact that he followed up with a text shouldn’t shock me. However, I’m still wrapping my head around the fact that I’m now someone’s fake fiancée. Nobody said anything about dates. And without kids? Forget it, Preston is my safety net.
Rinsing out my mouth in the bathroom sink, I wrap my long, naturally curly hair into a messy bun on top of my head and secure it with a clip. I need reinforcements, but only one person comes to mind to talk to, unfortunately. With my heart pounding in my chest, I tear down the hallway, screaming for Shelby at the top of my lungs.
I barely turn the corner when her bedroom door flies open and she stands in the doorway, one palm braced against the frame and the other holding a lamp like a sword. Her shoulder-length red hair is matted across her face and stuck to her lips as her eyes widen and scan the room for something to smash.
“What? Fuck, is someone in the apartment? Are you hurt? Don’t just stand there, Laken, for God’s sake, get the phone and call the cops!”
“Huh? No, it’s him.” I hold up my phone as if that explains everything.
Shelby lowers the lamp, raking her hair out of her face as she blinks at me. “Who’s him?”
“I got a text.”
“Is it about the murder?”
I shoot her a confused look. “There was no murder.”
“There’s going to be,” she says with a growl, her face darkening.
In the three years Shelby and I have lived together, she’s always been the level head to my neurotic. Our friendship is contractual. I pay half the rent and so does she, ensuring we both don’t sleep on a bench in Central Park. Shelby usually doesn’t have time for things like girl talk, smiling, or pleasantness in general. We’ve never been particularly close, and she never misses an opportunity to point out my tendency to fly off the handle, but I need to confide in someone outside the situation who’ll give it to me straight.
“I have a problem.”
“Shocker.”
“I’m serious, Shelby.”
“You have five minutes.”
“Does renting myself out make me a whore?” I ask, chewing my cheek.
Replacing the lamp, she rests her hands on her hips and sighs. “Laken? What the hell have you been doing when I’m at work?”
Bracing for her reaction, I squint one eye and let it rip. “I’m engaged.”
She reaches for my left hand, and inspecting my bare ring finger, she tilts her head to the side. “Come again?”
Relaying the entire story from the park, Shelby listens quietly. She nods at certain parts, and raises an eyebrow when I show her Niall’s texts and she sees his contact name asMy Darling Big Dick Fiancé.
When I finish, I take a huge breath and throw my hands out to the side. “Well?”
“This is going to backfire on you, Laken. Lying is never a good idea. Eventually that shit comes back on you.”
“I know,” I admit.
“But still,” she says thoughtfully. “It’s an in with Tate & Cane. And God knows you’re sure as hell not going to get an interview by yourself.”
“Your confidence in me is astounding, thanks.”
“Well, it’s not like the guy is a creep, right? He has a kid. That has to count for something.”
“Sure, I mean, we shared a few stories, and I managed not to end up a missing person on the evening news.” Pressing my thumbs against my temples, I frantically pace the room. “But I don’t know him. Shelby, he could still be a homicidal killer hell bent on stuffing me down a well and making a woman suit out of my skin.”
She rolls her eyes and moves past me into the living room. “You’ve been watchingSilence of The Lambsagain, haven’t you?”
I wave a hand, dismissing her. “Beside the point.”
