“Please. You cracked on that high note.”
He puts a hand to his chest like I’ve wounded him. “Cruel, Hayes. Cruel.”
The warmth of the memories linger even as he steers us back. “All I’m saying is, we wouldn’t have to do much if we did it at the Hearts of Denver awards. A kiss on the red carpet, tell people we’re official. One night of dancing and hanging out, that’s all.”
I take a bite of my burger, buying myself time. It’s medium-rare, extra pickles, loaded with cheese and dripping with sauce. After years of obsessively counting calories, it still feels rebellious to eat something like this. I used to pick croutons out of salads, swap dressing for lemon juice, chew gum just to stop myself snacking. Being a Stormhawks cheerleader came with strict rules in our contracts, and even stricter unspoken ones. But the two jobs, the exhaustion, the constant rushing, and the hunger had all been worth it when I stepped onto the field and nailed a routine that sent the stadium roaring. Keeping fit is still part of my life. But there’s no way I’m giving up burgers like this again.
Chase drops his onion rings onto my plate. Not because he doesn’t like them. But because he knows they’re my favorite. The simple gesture makes me think of Ryan. Ryan, who wanted the version of me that looked good on his arm. He liked me polished, makeup perfect, hair smoothed. He expected me to fit around his schedule, his friends, his ego.
It wasn’t me he wanted. Not the woman who falls asleep with her mascara smudged, or reads fact books cover to cover, or eats onion rings like they’re oxygen. And yet now he won’t let up trying to win me back. He even turned up at my Pilates class last week, whispering invitations for coffee between stretches. I haven’t told anyone about that. Not Chase. Not even Liv. Saying it out loud would make it real. And I’m still hoping he’ll take the hint.
“What do you say?” Chase asks.
I look up, and for the first time I see something new in his eyes—hope. Real hope.
“You seriously want to do this?” I ask.
“Right now, I’m willing to try anything to kill this Chasing Love mess. And you have to admit, it’s a good idea.”
Maybe Chase is right. Maybe pretending to date at the Hearts of Denver awards would finally shut Ryan down. And besides, Chase needs this. He laughs off the Chasing Love hashtags and memes, and the jokes about his love life, but I know the attention is getting to him.
These fans think Chase hasn’t met the right woman yet. But the truth is, meeting women has never been an issue. It’s getting past the casual hook-up that’s the problem. Jen was the first woman since college who stuck around long enough for anyone to call it a relationship. And Chase was a good boyfriend. The kind who showed up, who remembered the small things, but I could tell Jen didn’t come close to breaking his heart when it ended. It’s like he’s accepted that love isn’t something made for him and has stopped trying to find it. Whatever the reason for Chase’s dismal love life, having the whole city treat him like a prize to be won definitely isn’t helping.
“OK. I’m in.”
Chase grins—that big, troublemaking, light-up-the-world grin—and something zings through me, quick and sharp anddangerous, that I haven’t felt in a long time. I shove it back down, pretend it wasn’t there at all.
It’s only one night.
What could possibly go wrong?
SIX
SERENA
RYAN:You made your point. I took you for granted and that’s my bad. Please give me another chance.
“It’s not going to be just one night.” Liv’s voice comes in a breathy rush as we round the track in the park, picking up speed for the last mile of our run.
It’s early Saturday morning, but the park is already busy with runners, dog walkers, and parents pushing strollers. The burn of cold air scrapes down my lungs. Overhead, bright sunlight pushes through heavy cloud cover, the sky fighting itself to decide what kind of day it wants to be. Hard to believe it’ll hit seventy-five by the afternoon. Harder still to believe that in six weeks we could be knee-deep in snow. Another reason I love the weather: the constant shift, the reminder that nothing stays the same.
I heave in a breath. “Why not?”
Liv shoots me a side-eye. Her sleek black bob is caught in two playful pigtails at the nape of her neck. “You honestly think you can make a red-carpet kiss seem like a full-blown real relationship? Too many people know you and Chase are just friends. You’ll have to put on a show.”
My stomach nosedives at the thought, and without realizing it I push harder into my pace. Liv matches me stride for stride. We’ve been doing these Saturday runs for years, only ever skipping if one of us was flat-out with the flu. We’ve run through hangovers, and through snowstorms that iced the track, and heat waves that left us red-faced and gasping. These runs are our ritual, our reset button. And soon they’ll be another thing I miss when she moves in with Jensen. Sure, we’ll still run. We’ll find some new route halfway between our apartments. But it won’t be every week. And it won’t be the same.
I bite back the pinch of sadness, glancing sideways at my best friend. Her easy smile, the sparkle in her eyes. It’s impossible not to feel happy that she’s happy. Liv hasn’t had it easy. First a pro basketball player who thought fidelity was optional. Then a pro hockey guy who acted like she was crazy for expecting loyalty. Both of them cheats. Both of them made her feel like she was the problem. But then, two years ago, Jensen walked into her life. Jensen, who builds houses instead of playing games. The kind of man who treats Liv like she’s his whole world. They’re the kind of love that makes me believe when I start to doubt.
Liv fixes me with a look. “Are you sure you know what you’re letting yourself in for?”
“Totally. It’s not going to be real,” I say between breaths.
“But you’re going to have to make itlookreal. Which means the kiss is going to be real. The touching is going to be real. And what happens if one of you catches feelings?”
“We won’t.”
She narrows her eyes, unconvinced.