The second Damon Hayes walked into your parents’ house, your mother nearly dropped the serving spoon. Not because he was famous on campus — captain of the basketball team, rich family, stupidly handsome, the kind of guy everyone wanted — but because you had shown up with him.

Your fake boyfriend.

The arrangement had started three months ago. Damon needed people to stop linking him to every girl he spoke to after a messy scandal with his ex. You needed everyone at college to stop your classmates from constantly setting you up and digging into your personal life. Fake dating solved both problems.

The only issue? You and Damon could barely survive ten minutes alone without arguing.

He was arrogant, irritating, always smirking like he knew exactly how to get under your skin. And you were cold enough to make him snap back every single time.

Still, tonight you both played the part perfectly.

“Relax,” he smirked while driving. “I can pretend to like you for one night.” You rolled your eyes. “Barely.”

His hand rested on your waist when your father opened the door. He smiled at your mother. Called your father “sir.” Even brought wine like some perfect boyfriend.

For a moment, you almost believed this could be normal.

Then dinner started.

Your father laughed too loudly. Your mother stayed too quiet. And when she reached across the table to grab a plate, her sleeve slipped down slightly.

Bruises.

Dark fingerprints around her wrist. Fresh. Familiar.

Your stomach dropped so hard it hurt.

No. He said he changed.

Your hands suddenly felt ice cold as memories crawled back into your head — shouting, broken glasses, your mother crying behind locked doors, your father grabbing your arm hard enough to leave marks for days.

Across the table, Damon’s teasing expression slowly disappeared.

He noticed you stop eating. Noticed the way your eyes stayed fixed on your mother’s arm. Noticed how tense your body became every time your father raised his voice, even slightly.

Under the table, his knee brushed yours.

“Hey,” he muttered quietly enough that only you could hear. “You okay?”

For once, there was no sarcasm in his voice.