Page 53 of Big D!ck Energy

“Your listeners sound terrifying,” I mumbled.

“They're amazing and protective, and they will absolutely fact-check your entire dating history.” Her smile was sweet but merciless. “Hope you're ready for a deep dive into every relationship you've ever had.”

“Great. Can't wait.” I rubbed the back of my neck, tension creeping in. Every relationship I'd ever had was going to be dissected, analyzed, and judged. Most of them hadn't even been real relationships, just media speculation. “But you think it will really take five days for the word to spread? That we're married?”

She shrugged, and I realized she had no idea what she was walking into. “I don't know? I've never fake-married a celebrity before. This is new territory for me.”

God, she was adorable when she was naive. “The last social media post about me supposedly dumping another girl before her twenty-third birthday got two million views by sunset.”

Her eyes widened as the reality sank in. “Two million? By sunset?”

“Welcome to my life.” I spread my hands, letting her see the frustration I usually kept hidden. “Every relationship, every date, every time I'm photographed within ten feet of a woman under thirty, it becomes a viral piece about my character.”

“That sounds… exhausting.”

The sympathy in her voice caught me off guard. Most people thought the attention was glamorous. “It is,” I admitted. “Which is why this…” I gestured between us, “...works. Being married to someone my own age, someone successful, someone who clearly isn't impressed by my bullshit? That's good press.”

“So I'm your PR redemption?” She scowled.

“And I'm your accidentally-married-in-Vegas story, that’s going to help you tone down your big dick energy.” I let my grin return to safer territory. “We're using each other. It works for us.”

“Exactly.” She crossed her arms and sank back in her seat. “So… Brooke and Matt will be back at the end of the month, and I would like to be filing for divorce before then so we can tell them this hilarious story in past tense. You know, after it's over and we can all laugh about that crazy time I married Dallas Dodger in Vegas.”

“I really think you're underestimating the power of the press,” I said, my laugh coming out hollow. “Brooke and Matt will know before they get back.”

She dropped her hands, frowning in that way that made a little line appear between her eyebrows. “No, you're right. Brooke silenced all her socials before the wedding, but...” Her scowl deepened. “Kali and James will probably hear about it and call them. Shit.” She rubbed her forehead, and I wanted to reach across and smooth away the tension. “I really don’t want to explain this to them yet. Or ever.”

“What about our families?” I asked.

“I'll have to tell my sister, but my parents...” She trailed off. “They won't notice. They don’t have social media. What about you?”

“I will not only have to tell my entire family but also introduce you.” I grimaced. “Which means family dinner. Multiple family dinners. My mom will want to throw a party. My sister will want to interrogate you…”

“Your family sounds intense.”

“They're a lot,” I admitted. “But they mean well, and they're going to love you.”

It was true. My mom would be so excited that I got married that she would start planning real wedding parties.

“You don't know that,” she said, but I could hear the uncertainty underneath.

“Yes, I do.” I leaned back, letting myself really look at her. “You're smart, funny, successful, and you don't take my shit. That's literally everything my mother has ever wanted for me in a partner.”

“Except we're not really partners.”

“They don't know that.”

I watched the weight of what we were about to do settle over her. The lying, the pretending, the elaborate stories we were building. Her face cycled through panic and doubt, and I couldn't stop myself. I reached across the table and touched her hand.

“Hey,” I said softly. “Everything is going to be fine.”

She looked down at my hand on hers, then up at my face.

Her face scrunched up in that way I was already learning to recognize as her thinking face. “This was a terrible idea,” she said. “We should just fly back to Vegas tonight and see if we can get this annulled.”

I stood up, collecting our coffee mugs. “Nope,” I said decisively. “We are in this now.”

“For better or worse,” she muttered.