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“You know, we need to institute a girls’ night,” Callie declares. “Not that I don’t love these dumbasses, but I could use a night out that doesn’t devolve into shenanigans.”
“Great idea,” Grace agrees. “Jenn? What do you say?”
It sounds so nice, and I can’t believe my own luck—to find a guy like Austin, period. But the fact that he comes with a group of girls who eagerly welcome me in is something special.
“I’d love that,” I reply, but even as they start making plans, that flicker of guilt inside me flares to life again.
Because with every new person I meet in Austin’s life, my little white lie gets a whole lot bigger. The staff at Vital, Austin’s sister, and now all his friends, too…
They all think I’m someone that I’m not. Just how long am I going to let this last?
I excuse myself, needing a moment to breathe. I find the staircase, and head up to the roof. It’s quieter there, and I find a deserted corner to pace, my stomach churning with unease.
This is spinning out of control. When I decided to go along with the Jennifer Walker misunderstanding, I was thinking about working a while at Vital, proving my marketing chops, and then moving on. Now I’m having extremely serious feelings for an incredible man, as I meet his wonderful friends.
I want to say yes to girls’ night at the wine bar. I want to stay in this bubble with him. But that first lie is still looming over everything, tainting what should be a wonderful, carefree time.
I rest my arms on the ledge, looking out over the city. “Okay,” I mutter to myself. “It’s time to rip off the Band-Aid .”
“Austin,” I murmur to no one, practicing. “I feel like we really have something here, which has been a wonderful curveball.”
No—no baseball references. Too cute. “Which has been… Surprising and fast.”
I pace a few steps and spin on my heel. How can I explain what happened? Maybe try to laugh it off?
“Just one small thing,” I mumble to the invisible Austin. “It’s so funny, actually. Hilarious. It turns out there’s another Jennifer Walker, and maybe the recruiter thought I was her?”
No. There’s no maybe about it. I have to come clean with the whole truth, no matter how bad it sounds.
“There you are.”
I jump out of my skin and whirl around. Austin’s stepping out onto the roof, luckily far enough away that he hasn’t heard my babbling practice run. “I was looking for you downstairs. Everything okay?”
I swallow hard. “Everything’s perfect,” I say, which is painfully true. Everything but one, tiny lie. “I’m just… Enjoying some fresh air and the view.”
He stands behind me, wrapping one hand around my waist. “Thanks for coming with me,” he murmurs against my temple. “It’s been a long time since I’ve introduced someone to my friends, and… It feels pretty great.”
“I feel the same,” I begin, lump already threatening my throat.
But I can’t wait any longer. He deserves to hear the truth.
I turn to face him, gathering all my courage. “There’s something we need to talk about.”
“Okay,” he smiles, tucking a lock of hair behind my ear.
“It’s about when we met,” I begin, my voice shaking a little. I want so badly to explain this in a way he’ll understand, but I’m afraid I’ve already left it too late.
“The dick-punching?” he asks, lips curled in a grin. “I remember. Vividly.”
“No, not that. The interview.”
My heart is pounding in my chest, but I force myself to keep talking. “You see, when I got the call from the recruiter, it turns out—”
“Yo, Austin!” A loud yell suddenly interrupts us. It’s one of the party guests, calling from the stairwell. “Toast time! Toast from the hosts with the most,” he adds with a drunk laugh.
Austin laughs. “Right behind you, buddy!” he turns back to me, smiling. “Joint public speaking, this many drinks in. It can only go well, right?”
I exhale. “Right.”
“What were you saying?” he asks, looking distracted.
But the moment’s passed. Now is definitely not the right time. “Nothing important,” I lie, pasting on a bright smile. “We can talk later.”
“We can do more than talk…” Austin gives me a wink. “Come on, you have to hear this. Dash wrote a limerick, especially for the occasion.”
He takes my hand, and I follow him back to the party, secret un-spilled, conversation un-had. I have no choice.
At least, that’s what I tell myself.
