Page 23 of PR Stunt

I shake my head. “Nope. And now, every time Mom calls, I dodge it. What am I supposed to say? ‘Hey, I signed up for a fake relationship. Hope Dad doesn’t spill to the Home Depot cashier.’”

Juno snorts. “Oh, he absolutely would.”

A sigh escapes as I rub my temples. “It’s awful. I should tell them. But it’s not real, so why stress them out?”

Juno tilts her head, studying me. “You’re not avoiding the convo only because of them, are you?”

“What does that mean?”

She gives me a knowing look. “It means…maybe talking about it out loud makes it feel too real.”

I stab at a piece of sashimi with my chopsticks, focusing way too hard on dragging it through the ponzu.

“That’s not it.”

Juno doesn’t even blink. “Right.”

I sigh, dropping the piece of fish onto my plate untouched. “Okay, fine. Maybe. A little.”

Her lips twitch, but she doesn’t gloat, at least not yet. “Thought so.”

Leaning back, I swirl the stem of my martini between my fingers. “It’s just…telling them means explaining it. And explaining it means saying it all out loud. How fake it is. How I agreed to this circus. How I somehow let myself get roped into playing house with a man who makes me want to scream.”

Juno nods, chewing thoughtfully. “But like…sexy screaming?”

I grab a piece of ginger and launch it at her.

She dodges, laughing. “I deserved that.”

I shake my head, but my lips twitch despite myself. “You really did.”

She wipes her fingers on a napkin and then lifts a brow. “So, friends with benefits is off the table with him, then?”

“Ew, yeah.”

Juno leans in, lowering her voice like it’s classified intel. “I’ve heard he’s next level in bed and has a big schlong.”

I don’t even dignify that with a real reaction. “I don’t care. I wouldn’t go near him with a ten-foot pole.”

Juno grins, wiggling her eyebrows. “Even if his is a nine-inch?”

I nearly spit out my martini, choking back a laugh as I level a glare at her. “You’re too much.”

“I’m just asking the hard-hitting questions.”

I shake my head in disbelief. “You’ve been reading too much smut.”

Juno leans in, chin propped on her palm. “Okay…be honest. If Grayson were literally anyone else—anyone—would this be easier?”

“Yes,” I deadpan.

Juno opens her mouth, ready to argue, but I steer the conversation away from the very public predicament I’m in, waving down the server. “Okay, enough about me. Fill me in on your life. And let’s get another round.”

Turns out Juno booked a role in a new tv series filming in Italy, of all places. Then there was the 2000s-themed birthday party in the Hills, and naturally, her latest book boyfriend obsession had to be discussed in detail. The server swaps out our drinks, and we clink our glasses before sipping. And for a night, it is the best distraction.

I definitely needed this girl time. When the check comes, I grab it before Juno can argue, signing off with a quick thank-you to the server. As we step outside, a handful of photographers are already gathered, cameras flashing the second we appear.

I hug Juno goodbye and head home. The moment I walk through the door, I disarm the alarm, kick off my heels, and stretch. My body is loose from the martinis, and someone kindly sent us a third, so my mind is pleasantly hazy.