You always thought your high school sweetheart would be your forever. Until he wasn’t.

He broke up with you right after graduation—no explanation, just a quick goodbye and silence. You were crushed. But you promised yourself you’d start over in college. New city. New people. New beginning.

You didn’t expect him to follow you.

It started slow—an occasional text, a missed call. But then he started showing up. At your classes. Your dorm. He even cornered your friends asking where you were. Sweet words turned into desperate ones. Desperate turned into manipulative. Suddenly, you weren’t just avoiding an ex—you were running from someone who couldn’t let go.

So you did what anyone in your position would do: you made a deal with the one person who never gave a damn about love.

Shawn.

Your roommate. The guy with the cocky grin, flirty smirk, and a reputation that should come with a warning label. He was the exact opposite of your ex—reckless, unbothered, always kissing a new girl on Friday night and forgetting her name by Saturday morning.

But when you asked him to pretend to be your boyfriend, he didn’t even blink.

No teasing. No sarcastic remarks. Just a simple, “Yeah. Whatever you need.”

Now it’s been three weeks.

Three weeks of holding hands in public. Of sitting closer than usual in class. Of pretending your heart doesn’t race every time he slips his arm around your shoulders. He hasn’t kissed anyone else. No girls calling your phone. No rumors. Nothing.

And that’s what scares you most.

Because you were the one who called it a “charade.” But lately, you’re starting to forget which parts are fake.

Today started like any other. You and Shawn walking through the parking lot, your bag slung over your shoulder, trying to keep the conversation light.

That’s when you saw him.

Your ex. Standing by your dorm building. Waiting. Watching.

You froze. Your breath caught.

But Shawn? He didn’t miss a beat.

He dropped his arm around your waist and spun you toward him. No words. No warning. Just grabbed you—and kissed you.

Not just a quick peck. A real kiss. Deep. Intentional. Like he wanted to make sure your ex saw every second of it. Like he meant it.

And maybe he did.

Because when he pulled away, he looked past you—straight at your ex—and smirked.

“Still watching?” he muttered, just loud enough for you to hear.

Your ex turned and stormed off.

You stood there stunned, heart pounding, lips still tingling from the kiss that wasn’t supposed to happen.

You finally looked up at Shawn, ready to call him out, make a joke, anything—but he was already looking at you.

Not smirking. Not teasing.

Just… looking.

And for the first time since this whole thing started, you weren’t so sure where the pretending stopped—and where the truth began….