Chapter 16
Harper
I’ve lost count of how many glasses of champagne I’ve had.
Three? Four? Enough that my body is tingling, and the tension that’s been coiled in my chest since we arrived has finally started to unwind.
I’m not drunk.
Just... loose. Bold. The kind of confidence that only comes from excellent champagne and the knowledge that Collin Matthews has been watching me all night.
Micah and I are still on the dance floor, swaying to another slow song, and I can feel Collin’s eyes on us from across the room.
Let him watch.
Let him see what he gave up.
“Are you doing okay?” Micah asks, his hand warm on my lower back.
“I’m great.” I smile up at him. “Why?”
“You’ve had a lot of champagne.”
“I’m fine, Dimples. I can handle my alcohol.”
He doesn’t look convinced, but he doesn’t push. Just keeps dancing with me, steady and grounding, like he’s been doing all night.
And I realize—again—how good he is at this.
Too good.
The way he holds me. The way he looks at me. The way he says my name, like it means something.
It all feels so real.
“Harper?”
I blink, refocusing on his face. “Yeah?”
“You zoned out.”
“Sorry. Just thinking.”
“About?”
About how you’re better at being my fake boyfriend than Collin ever was at being my real one.
But I don’t say that.
“Nothing important,” I say instead.
The song ends, and Micah guides me off the dance floor toward one of the tall cocktail tables. I grab another glass of champagne from a passing server, and Micah watches me with that careful, protective expression he’s been wearing all night.
“Maybe slow down,” he suggests gently.
“Micah, I’m an adult. I can handle—”
“Harper.”
The voice makes me freeze.
I turn slowly, and there he is.
Collin.
Standing right behind me, hands in his pockets, looking at me with an expression I can’t quite read.
“Collin.” My voice comes out steadier than I feel. “Hi.”
“Hey.” His gaze slides down my body—slowly, deliberately—before coming back up to meet my eyes. “You look... incredible. That dress is stunning on you. Really shows off your figure.”
Heat floods my face, but not the good kind.
“Thank you,” I manage.
His eyes linger a little too long on the neckline. “Seriously, Harper. You look amazing. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look this good.”
There’s an awkward beat of silence, and I’m suddenly very aware that he has a girlfriend standing twenty feet away, I have a date standing right next to me and this is wildly inappropriate.
“I appreciate that,” I say carefully, taking a small step back.
But Collin doesn’t seem to notice—or care.
Then Micah is there—stepping into the space between us, his hand settling possessively on my lower back. The warmth of his palm burns through the silk of my dress.
“Everything okay here?” His voice is calm, but there’s steel underneath it.
Collin’s eyes flick to Micah, and something shifts in his expression. “Yeah, of course. Just catching up with Harper.”
“Right,” Micah’s hand doesn’t move from my back. “You were saying something about her dress?”
Collin clears his throat. “Just that she looks great. That’s all.”
“She does.” Micah’s tone is pleasant enough, but the message is clear: Back off.
Collin straightens slightly, like he’s trying to reassert himself.
“So, Micah. Children’s ministry director, wasn’t it?
” He says it with just enough condescension to make it sound less impressive.
Like he’s reminding everyone in earshot that he’s an assistant principal—a real professional—and Micah just plays with kids for a living.
“That’s right.” Micah doesn’t rise to the bait. His hand stays steady on my back.
“Must be... rewarding work.” Collin’s smile doesn’t reach his eyes.
“It is.”
Another silence—this one thick with tension.
I take a sip of champagne, mostly to give my hands something to do.
Collin clears his throat. “So, uh, Jessica and I... we’re actually pretty serious.
” He grins, that proud, showing-off kind of grin.
“She’s incredible, you know? She runs marathons, volunteers at the animal shelter every weekend, and just got promoted to senior account manager at her firm.
And she’s hilarious—like, genuinely the funniest person I’ve ever met. Everyone loves her.”
The words hit me like a punch to the stomach.
He’s listing her accomplishments like he’s reading off a résumé. As if he’s trying to prove something. Like he needs me to know just how amazing his new girlfriend is.
Like he’s rubbing it in my face.
“We actually grew up together,” Collin continues, and there’s something wistful in his voice now. “Known each other since we were kids. Lost touch for a while, but we reconnected about two months ago and... I don’t know. It just clicked. Like it was meant to be, you know?”
Two months ago.
Two. Months. Ago.
The same time he dumped me.
My chest tightens, and I feel like I can’t breathe.
“Wow,” I manage, forcing a smile that feels like it might crack my face. “That’s... that’s great, Collin. Congratulations.”
“Thanks.” He shifts his weight. “What about you two? How long have you been together?”
“About a month,” I say, and I feel Micah’s hand tighten slightly on my back, steadying me. “But honestly? It feels like so much longer. Like we’ve known each other forever.”
I glance up at Micah, and he’s looking down at me with this soft expression that makes my heart stutter.
“When you know, you know,” Micah adds, his voice warm.
Collin’s jaw tightens slightly. “Right. Yeah, I guess so.”
“Micah’s incredible,” I continue, emboldened by champagne and adrenaline. “He’s patient and kind and actually listens when I talk. He shows up. He’s present. He makes me feel...” I pause, searching for the right word. “Seen.”
Collin nods slowly, and there’s something in his expression now—regret, maybe? Or jealousy?
I can’t tell.
“Well,” he says finally, shifting his weight awkwardly. “I’m glad you found someone. You deserve to be happy, Harper.”
“Thanks. You too.”
There’s an uncomfortable pause where none of us seem to know what to say next.
Then, from across the room, I catch Jessica waving at Collin—big, enthusiastic gestures, pointing at something near the stage. She mouths something I can’t make out.
Collin glances over his shoulder and nods at her, then turns back to us. “I should—Jessica’s calling me over. But, uh, yeah. Good seeing you both.”
“You too,” I manage.
Collin walks toward Jessica, who immediately loops her arm through his and pulls him into conversation with another couple.
I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding.
“Are you okay?” Micah asks quietly.
“Yeah. I just need—” I set down my champagne glass. “I need air. Or space. Or something.”
“Come on.” He takes my hand. “Let’s get out of here for a minute.”
He leads me away from the dance floor, weaving through clusters of people until we reach a set of large French doors at the far end of the ballroom. Through the glass panels, I can see a balcony overlooking the gardens below, lit by soft string lights.
Micah pushes open the doors, and the cool night air hits my face immediately.
I step outside, gripping the railing, and take a deep breath.
The noise from the ballroom fades to a muffled hum behind us—laughter, music, the clink of glasses—but out here, it’s quieter. Calmer.
Micah closes the doors behind us but stays close, hands in his pockets.
“Well,” he says after a moment, “that was odd.”
I let out a breath that’s half laugh, half something else entirely. “That’s one word for it.”
“He basically gave you her résumé.”
“I know.”
Micah steps closer, leaning against the railing beside me. “Harper.”
“I’m fine.”
“You keep saying that.”
“Because I keep meaning it.”
“Do you?”
I open my eyes and find him watching me with that same careful expression. Like he’s trying to figure me out. Like he actually cares.
“He’s really moved on,” I whisper, my voice barely above a whisper. “Like... completely moved on.”
“I know.”
“They grew up together. She’s got this perfect job, runs marathons, volunteers every weekend—” I stop, shaking my head.
“We were together for six months, and he never looked at me the way he looked when he was talking about her. Never bragged about me like that. And now, two months later, he’s acting like she’s the best thing that ever happened to him. ”
My throat tightens. “There’s no winning him back, is there?”
“Hey,” Micah turns to face me, his voice firm but gentle. “Don’t say that.”
“But—”
“Harper, look at me.” He waits until I meet his eyes. “Did you see his face when you walked into that ballroom tonight? When he saw you in that dress, on my arm, looking like you were doing just fine without him?”
I swallow hard. “I don’t know. Maybe?”
“I saw it,” Micah says with certainty. “He noticed. Trust me. And yeah, maybe he’s moved on with Jessica. Maybe he thinks she’s great. But you know what? You’re great too. And if he had half a brain, he’d realize what he lost.”
“Micah—”
“I’m serious. Tonight isn’t over yet. You’re stunning, you’re confident, and you’ve got everyone in that room believing we’re crazy about each other.” He squeezes my hand. “If you want him back, Harper, we can still make this work. We just have to keep doing what we’re doing.”
I search his face, looking for any sign that he’s just saying what I want to hear.
But all I see is conviction.
“Do you really think so?”
“I know so.” He gives me a small smile.
“I just—” I push off the wall, pacing. “I thought tonight would feel different. I thought seeing him would give me closure or clarity, or something. But all I feel is—”
I stop.
Because through the doorway, I can see into the ballroom.
And Collin is standing there, near the edge of the dance floor, looking directly at us.
Not at Jessica. Not at the crowd.
At us.
My heart starts racing.
“He’s watching,” I mumble.
Micah follows my gaze, then looks back at me.
“Kiss me.”
His eyes widen. “What?”
“Kiss me.” I step closer, my pulse pounding. “He’s watching. We need to sell this.”
“Harper, the rule was no—”
“I know what the rule was.” I reach up, cupping his face. “I’m breaking it. Kiss me, Dimples.”
He hesitates, his eyes searching mine. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“This isn’t just the champagne talking?”
“No,” and I mean it. “Please.”
For a moment, he doesn’t move.
Then he exhales slowly, and his hand comes up to cradle the back of my head.
“Okay,” he whispers.
And then he kisses me.
It’s not tentative. Not careful. Not the kind of kiss you give someone when you’re pretending.
It’s real.
His lips are warm and firm against mine, and the second we connect, everything else disappears. The gala. The music. Collin. All of it fades into the background.
There’s only Micah.
His hand tangled in my hair. His other hand on my waist, pulling me closer. The way he tastes of mint and something uniquely him.
I reach up, threading my fingers through his hair, and he makes this low sound in the back of his throat that sends electricity down my spine.
He tilts his head, deepening the kiss, and I forget how to breathe.
Forget how to think.
Forget that this is supposed to be fake.
Because nothing about this feels fake.
His thumb brushes against my jaw, gentle and reverent, and I press closer, needing more of this, more of him.
Time stops.
The world narrows to the space between us—the warmth of his body, the steady thrum of his heartbeat against my chest, the way he’s holding me like I’m something precious.
When we finally pull apart, we’re both breathless.
I stare up at him, and he stares back, and neither of us says anything.
Because what is there to say?
“Harper,” he says finally, his voice rough.
“Yeah?”
“That was—”
But before he can finish, the sound of applause erupts from the ballroom.
We both turn toward the doorway as the announcer’s voice comes over the speakers.
“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you so much for joining us on the dance floor tonight! Now, we’ll be moving into the fundraising portion of our evening. Please take your seats as we highlight the incredible work of the Dallas Independent School District.”
The moment breaks.
Reality crashes back in.
I step back, smoothing down my dress, suddenly very aware of how close we were. How close we still are.
“We should—” I gesture vaguely toward the ballroom. “We should probably go back.”
“Right. Yeah.”
But neither of us moves.
We just stand there, staring at each other, the kiss hanging between us like a question neither of us knows how to answer.
Finally, Micah clears his throat. “For the record?”
“Yeah?”
“That definitely sold it.”
A laugh bubbles up before I can stop it. “You think?”
“Yeah.” His lips quirk into a small smile. “Pretty sure everyone in a ten-mile radius believes we’re together now.”
“Good. That’s... that’s what we wanted.”
“Right. What we wanted.”
There’s something in his tone—something that makes my stomach flip.
But before I can figure out what it is, he holds out his hand.
“Come on, Freckles. Let’s go watch people bid ridiculous amounts of money on silent auction items.”
I take his hand, lacing my fingers through his, and let him lead me back into the ballroom.