It was supposed to be a harmless lie. A tiny, barely-mentionable fib.

You just didn’t expect your mom to hear it.

Now you were flying home for your sister’s engagement party… and Drew Starkey was coming with you. As your boyfriend.

You’d panicked, okay? Your whole family thought you were chronically single and emotionally unavailable. So when your mom asked if you were seeing anyone, you blurted out: “Yeah, actually. Drew Starkey.”

You meant the idea of him. Not actual Drew Starkey. But your cousin overheard. Tweeted it. It blew up. Drew’s team called yours. Now it was “a mutually beneficial image opportunity.”

Now here he was. Sitting at your childhood kitchen table, charming your grandma, eating lasagna, and acting like he wasn’t just famous for making people feral on TikTok.

You kicked him under the table. He smirked.

“Tell them how you met,” your mom said, beaming.

You froze.

Drew didn’t.

“She slid into my DMs,” he said, all confidence. “Said I had ‘golden retriever energy with a side of menace.’ I was hooked.”

Your jaw dropped. “That is not—”

“She also sent a meme of a raccoon in a hoodie and said it reminded her of me. Romantic, really.”

Your entire family “awww’d.”

You hated how good he was at this.

And maybe… how good he looked holding your baby nephew.