Page 34 of How My Fake Alien Boyfriend Learned to Cook and Saved the Family Business

That’s how I had ended up in the paint section of the store, weighing the benefits of a poppy red versus farmhouse red for a dining room refresh.

“We’ve got to stop meeting like this.”

I stiffened when Walter sidled up next to me and smirked at the color swatches in my hand. My jaw clenched at his closeness. This surely had to be some kind of cosmic joke.

“You promise?” I asked in my best snarky, leave-me-the-hell-alone tone.

A sardonic chuckle. “Considering becoming an interior decorator, Lo? Could be a good backup plan for you when the restaurant closes.”

The color cards bent as I tightened my grip. He was baiting me. I refused to lose my cool.

“Nope,” I said, attempting breeziness. “Getting some supplies to update the restaurant. The very much still open restaurant,” I added through clenched teeth.

“So you agree it’s old-fashioned?”

One little punch. That’s all it would have taken to make me feel better, I was pretty sure. A single punch to your ex-boyfriend’s face should be legal if he’s a jerk.

“Lola! Look what I found!” Walter and I turned in unison at the mention of my name. Kal approached where we stood holding a…

What was that?

An absolutely enormous fork in one arm, and equally gigantic spoon in the other.

“You have to get this!”

I heard Walter snort, already making up his mind about Kal. I could read my ex like a book. He was thinking that Kal was a loser; definitely not someone worth his regard.

I used to think Walter’s judginess was a sign of maturity, or at least discernment. But over time, I began to see it for what it was: pomposity. A lack of respect for people who didn’t think exactly like him.

Kal might be a little strange, sure. But I had known him for less than forty-eight hours, and he’d already shown me more kindness in that amount of time than Walter ever did while we were dating. I couldn’t let him look down on Kal. And I knew just what would get his attention.

I pushed past my ex and extended my arms toward Kal.

“Babe!” I said, slapping on a smile before wrapping myself around Kal, ridiculously large utensils and all. “There you are. And look at these! I love them.” And because I had already thrown myself into the role with the enthusiasm of a method actor, I went all in by rising on my tiptoes and giving Kal a big, wet kiss on the cheek.

I whispered, “Play along,” in his ear, adding a quick please before lowering myself back down. I may have been impulsive, but I was not rude.

Kal looked at me with wide green eyes, but, to his credit, acted relatively normal. Well, normal for him. He even set down the giant spoon so he could slip an arm around my waist, mirroring my own arm placement. His fingertips felt overly warm skimming my side. I resisted the urge to lean into him.

Luckily, I had revenge on my ex to exact. The thing about Walter is that he was always the jealous type. It didn’t matter if it was work, or friends, or family claiming my attention—anything that took my focus off of him triggered some of our nastiest fights. When I was younger, I used to think it was romantic how much he cared. I was stupid when I was younger. Now, I understood it for what it was—possessiveness and manipulation.

I’ll admit that it wasn’t the mature thing to do, taunting Walter. I knew he would hate seeing me with another man, even though we were finished. Like, totally and completely never-getting-back-together finished. I relished the thought, though. In many ways, I had become a strong, mature woman who’d just entered her thirties. In other ways, I could still be stubborn, even a little petty. It was a delicate balance.

I hammed up my performance, pulling from two years of high school theater club. I stared up at Kal with big, doe eyes. Kal looked down at me like a deer in headlights. But bless his heart, he didn’t give me away. I actually could have kissed him right then and there.

“Who’s this?” Walter asked gruffly. I knew I’d gotten to him, and it felt good. I splayed my hand over Kal’s torso possessively and turned my attention back to my ex.

“Kal,” I said, smiling wide. With teeth. “My new boyfriend.”

My fingers clutched at the fabric of his shirt, like I was desperate to touch him.

Walter’s response was deliciously tense. “And when did you two meet?”

He had some nerve asking that—especially as someone who had cheated on me and refused to apologize.

“Oh, he just fell into my life one day,” I said. My grin looked maniacal, I’m sure. “Showed up out of nowhere, like an angel. Face of one, too!” At this, I pinched Kal’s cheek between my thumb and forefinger. It momentarily registered that his skin felt unusually spongy, but the thought escaped me just as quickly as it came.

I let my fingers play at the tips of Kal’s wavy brown hair, the picture of a woman in love. “Isn’t he the sweetest?” I asked.