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“But…” the girl starts to whine while I’m already crossing to the other side of the bar.

“Hey, you,” Jules screams over the loud music. The way she says those two simple words makes the world that much sweeter.

“What are you doing here?”

“I need to hire a fake boyfriend for New Year’s Eve. You see, I was planning on spending my New Year’s alone, drinking wine, and listening to Hall and Oates, but…I don’t know. I’m feeling a little wild.” She stands up straight and holds her hand out to me. “Help me up on the counter and then shut off the music.”

I abide. Of course I fucking abide. She could have told me to jump in Lake Michigan and I would have performed the task butt-ass naked. The crowd goes nuts with the lost sound, but I don’t care, Hank can fire me if he wants. Please don’t fire me, Hank.

When she gets up there, she bends down to me, edging her lips close to mine. “By the way you look really sexdorable serving those drinks to people. Very sexdorable.” She stretches back up to a standing position and she taps her hand right below her throat before speaking. “Hi! I’m Jules Stone. I’m single and weird, and I ugly cry—like real ugly. Snot, boogers, and all that gross stuff. I sometimes snort when I laugh too hard, and I am desperately in need of a date for New Year’s Eve. I need a kiss in about thirty minutes. I’m offering fifty dollars to whoever will step up to the job. So if anyone’s interested—”

“I’ll do it!” A stranger yells in the background. Followed by more and more people shouting. Jules’ face expression changes, and I can tell, like always, she didn’t really think her plan through.

“Hell,” The brunette I slid a beer to steps onto the bar and walks over to Jules. “I’ll do it!” She wraps Jules in her arms, dips her, and kisses her—hard.

The crowd goes wild. Jules’s doe eyes are untamed and confused, and Hank turns the music back on. My gut hurts from laughing so hard at the shocked look frozen on Sunshine’s face. “Jules, get down.”

I take her hand in mine and help her get down behind the counter so she’s standing in front of me. “I just kissed a girl, and her tongue touched my tongue I think… And her hand grabbed my ass. That definitely didn’t go the way I thought it would. In the movies, there’s always this big moment of realization where the hero or heroin

e marches into a place, confesses his or her love in a big life-changing way, and it works out perfectly.”

I blink once, looking down to the ground, and a realization hits me when my head snaps back up, my eyes widen. “Did you say ‘confesses love’?”

“Lust.” She pauses, wiggling her nose and slapping her hand across her face. “Lust. I meant lust. I mean, clearly we don’t love each other yet. I’ve known you for like, a week. And there were at least five days where we didn’t even communicate. I tagged those as the lost days. So love is a little extreme and—”

She’s rambling, I love it. My finger moves to her lips and shuts them. “I’m sorry I lied about the agency. I was trying to prove people wrong, prove myself to myself, I guess. And if I have to, I will spend the rest of my days trying to make it up to you. Because I lust you, too.”

“Do you really? I mean, I know I’m odd and stuff. My family almost drove you crazy, too, and I really messed up this romantic, big life-changing moment. If you give me another day, I can come up with something even cooler, something more fun! I’m thinking clowns and a marching band.”

“Jules, shut up. This isn’t a movie.” I inch my lips closer to hers and ignore all of the people begging for drinks. Our lips are touching, but we’re not kissing—yet. “This is real life.”

“Real? No more fake?”

“No more fake.”

“Like a totally, ridiculously, real relationship?” Her smile widens and I want nothing more than to fall for her for the remainder of my life.

“Kiss me now.”

She shrugs her shoulders and flips her hair over her shoulder. “My breath smells like tequila and the Chinese food I decided to eat before I came. We can’t kiss right now. I want the first real kiss to be gentle. Calm and perfectly sweet. Romantic, peppermint-scented, soft, and no tongue of course because that would just be tacky. Plus, we’re in a bar. Gross, right? I hate bars. I think I want the first kiss to—”

It doesn’t matter what she wants. When my lips lock with hers, I feel her body melt against mine. She kisses back like she means it, and I lose myself in the moment. I kiss her deeper because I’ve been waiting years to find this girl, this kiss, this feeling. This moment, this connection, this experience… Jules Stone doesn’t simply feel like home—she is home. Our eyes open, and we remain still, not pulling away from one another. I never want to pull away from the light before me.

When our lips separate, I step back and take in all of her beauty. “I have to finish up work, but at midnight, I’m going to kiss you again, and again, and again. Then, after everyone clears out and it’s almost three in the morning, I’m going to turn on your favorite song, and we are going to dance until sunrise.” I say. She smiles, and it’s evident I’m the luckiest man in the world to be speaking to her.

“And then you’ll make me pancakes?” Her voice sings and those damn dimples almost knock me over in a wave of ecstasy as I kiss the palm of her hand.

And then I’ll make her pancakes.

She’s beautiful, my Sunshine, and I hope her glow always lights my way.

-One Year Later-

“Okay. Just remember, don’t be yourselves. Be anything but yourselves.” I stand on the porch of Kayden’s parents’ home, pointing a finger at all of my family members. It’s been a year since Kayden’s and my made-up relationship launched, and for some reason, he thought it would be a fun idea for our families to meet during the holiday.

I’m pretty sure he was wasted when he came up with the idea.

His grandmother’s engagement ring is still resting on my finger, and in a month, we will be standing in front of all of our loved ones, saying, ‘I do.’ But first I just want to make it through Christmas dinner.

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