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And he was getting to meet all of me.
Even though it was hard to tell what he actually liked since he had only one side and that was grumpy, I had a feeling the sass had sparked something inside him.
It pulled at him.
It challenged him in a way where he hadn’t been before.
Still, that didn’t change the elephant in my life, and that was that I was going to be a wife.
In a fake relationship.
And somehow, I was going to have to convince my family, friends, and colleagues that this quick, whirlwind phase of dating that led straight to an engagement was completely normal. That I was falling right into love’s hands. That Grayson was the man of my dreams. That a marriage to him was everything I wanted and needed.
That this was soulmate-level kind of shit.
And at the end of the one year, I would have to swallow the massive lump in my throat, along with my pride, and admit to everyone—mostly my parents and followers—that rushing into marriage had been the wrong thing to do.
I was sure that once my parents found out their only child was getting hitched, they were going to have a slew of things to say. Warnings. Advice. Words of caution. And once the divorce papers were signed, I could already predict how many I told you so’s were going to be thrown in my direction.
So I needed to be extra convincing.
I needed everyone to believe that if there was a man made for me, that man was Grayson. That I couldn’t breathe without becoming his wife.
That there was nothing more solid in this world than our relationship.
And I needed to start now.
That was the reason for my smile.
Because first up was Sloane.
She wanted to know the cause of my grin, so I replied, “Well, I may have some news.”
“I knew it. Spill the tea, girl.”
I turned toward her after taking a long sip and tucked a throw pillow into my stomach, resting the beer on top of it. “You know how much I despised Grayson? And the way he treated me? And how painful it had been to wait on his party the other night, but how I was sorta hopeful by the end of it after I walked him out and we almost kissed?”
Her brows rose. “That would be hard to forget, yes.”
“He reached out the next morning and took me to breakfast.” I hated that I was lying. That breakfast was really a meeting with his PR crisis manager and attorney and that, somehow, this had become my life. Still, I had to roll with it.
“And?”
I chewed the corner of my thumbnail. “He apologized for everything—the way he treated me at his condo and the things he said to me, and that he regretted never getting my number so he could call me after and apologize.”
“He didn’t need your number. He could have just come into the bar to talk to you.”
“True.” I sighed. “But you’re missing the point.”
“Isn’t the point that if he gave a shit about you and your feelings, then he wouldn’t have rented a yacht with six other women? He would have asked you to cruise the Mediterranean instead?”
Sloane took zero crap from anyone and gave zero fucks.
I knew she was going to be a hard sell.
“We had one night together, Sloane. He wasn’t about to invite me on vacation—”
“But he invited someone. Six someones, to be exact.”
