It was never supposed to go this way. Me and Cameron? We were supposed to hate each other. But then something unexpected happened—Topper broke up with me. His best friend. And somehow, Rafe was still hanging around.

“Hey, I heard you and Topper aren’t a thing anymore,” he said, trying to sound casual. It didn’t work.

“What the hell do you want, Rafe? You lost or something?” I shot back.

He sighed. “Look, I’m not here to make this harder. I was just… thinking.”

“Thinking? Did it hurt?” I smirked, just to annoy him.

He groaned. “You’re such a pain in the ass.”

“So? What’s your brilliant idea?”

He hesitated. “Well… you and Topper are done. And I’m guessing you want a little revenge.”

I raised a brow. “I’m listening.”

“What if he saw you with someone else? Someone he’d never expect…”

“Someone else? Like who?”

He looked right at me. “Me. We fake date. Just enough to get under his skin.”

“No. No way.”

“Come on. You with me? Everyone would want you. You’d have options.”

After way too much arguing… I said yes.

So we “dated.” Weeks passed. Topper was clearly pissed. Jealous. Watching his ex and his best friend get closer every day.

Everything goes according to plan—until the party.

We’re drinking. Maybe we smoked something too. The music is loud, the lights are blurry, and somehow we end up in one room. Just the two of us. Wasted. Barely able to see straight.

We start talking about this whole fake dating thing, laughing at how far we took it. But somewhere between the jokes and the silence, the mood shifts.

We’re closer now. His shoulder brushes mine. My head’s spinning—but not from the alcohol.

“You still think this is fake?” he asks quietly, almost like he’s afraid of the answer.

I don’t say anything. I can’t.

He studies me for a moment, then leans in just a little. “Because it doesn’t feel fake to me anymore.”

My heart’s pounding, and suddenly, the air feels heavier. I don’t move. I don’t look away.

And in that moment, everything starts to blur—the line between pretend and real completely gone.