Chapter 27
Micah
The bowling alley is loud.
Music blasting from overhead speakers, the crash of pins, kids screaming in the arcade section, the smell of pizza and nacho cheese permeating everything.
And I’m standing at the entrance with Harper, who looks adorable and determined in jeans and a New Chapter Church hoodie.
“Okay,” she says, scrolling through her phone. “We’re in lane 7. With Anna and Tim, and...” She pauses. “Collin and Jessica.”
Of course we are.
“You okay?” I ask.
“Fine. Totally fine.” She’s not looking at me. “This is going to be fun. Bowling is fun.”
“Harper.”
She finally looks up, and I can see the nerves in her eyes. “I’m fine. I just need to... prepare myself.”
“For bowling?”
“For Collin and Jessica being all couple-y. They’re always couple-y. It’s annoying.”
I bite back a smile. “So we’re going to be more couple-y?”
“Exactly.” She grabs my hand, lacing her fingers through mine. “Game face, Dimples. Let’s do this.”
She pulls me toward lane 7, and I follow, trying very hard not to think about how natural her hand feels in mine.
Anna spots us first, waving enthusiastically from where she’s changing into bowling shoes.
“Harper! Micah! You made it!”
“Wouldn’t miss it,” Harper says brightly, and I can hear the forced cheerfulness in her voice.
Tim is already lacing up his shoes. “You guys ready to get destroyed? Anna and I have been practicing.”
“Practicing?” I raise an eyebrow. “For couples bowling?”
“We take team building very seriously,” Anna says, grinning.
And then I see them.
Collin and Jessica, sitting side by side on the bench, his arm around her shoulders, her head tilted toward him as she laughs at something on his phone.
Harper’s hand tightens in mine.
“Hey, Harper,” Collin says, glancing up. “Micah. Glad you could make it.”
“Wouldn’t miss it,” Harper repeats, her smile too bright.
Jessica waves. “Hi! I’m so excited about this. Collin’s been teaching me how to bowl. I’m terrible, but he’s such a wonderful teacher.”
She gazes up at Collin like he just invented fire.
Harper’s grip on my hand is borderline painful now.
“Well,” I say, squeezing back gently, “Harper’s an excellent bowler. She’s been teaching me all her tricks.”
Harper blinks at me. “I have?”
“You have,” I confirm, playing along. “Can’t wait to show everyone what I’ve learned.”
“This is going to be fun!” Anna looks delighted. “Okay, what do you want your team name to be? Tim and I are Team Newlyweds. Collin and Jessica, what are you?”
“Team Lovebirds,” Jessica says immediately, and I watch Harper’s jaw tighten.
“Of course they are,” Harper mutters under her breath.
“And you two?” Anna asks.
Harper looks at me, and I can see her brain working.
“Team Meant to Be,” I say before she can overthink it.
Harper’s eyes widen slightly, and then a real smile breaks across her face. “Yeah. That’s perfect.”
We get our shoes and enter our names into the system, and I’m acutely aware of how close Harper is standing to me.
Closer than necessary.
She’s leaning into my side, her hand still in mine, and when Collin glances over, she laughs at something I didn’t even say.
She’s performing.
I know she’s performing.
But it still does something to me.
The game starts, and Anna goes first, getting a respectable seven pins.
Tim picks up the spare.
Jessica goes next, and her ball veers into the gutter almost immediately. She turns around, pouting, and Collin stands to give her a hug.
“It’s okay, babe. You’ll get it next time.”
“I’m so bad at this,” Jessica says, and he kisses the top of her head.
Harper stiffens beside me.
Then Collin goes, getting a strike, and Jessica cheers loudly, throwing her arms around him.
“You’re so good at this!” she gushes.
Harper lets out a slow breath, and I can practically see her resolve hardening.
“Your turn, Freckles,” I say gently.
She stands, grabbing a ball, and turns to look at me. “Wish me luck, Dimples.”
“You don’t need luck. You’ve got this.”
She grins, then heads up to the lane.
And proceeds to get a strike.
“Yes!” She spins around, arms in the air, and I’m already standing to celebrate with her.
She runs back and jumps into my arms—literally jumps—and I catch her, laughing.
“That’s my girl,” I say without thinking.
And then I realize what I said.
Harper’s eyes meet mine, something flickering in them, but before either of us can say anything, Anna says, “your turn Micah!”
I grab a ball and try to focus.
I roll the ball, and it veers slightly left, taking out eight pins.
“Good job!” Harper calls out.
I pick up the spare on the second roll, and when I sit back down, Harper slides next to me.
Very next to me.
Like, thigh-to-thigh next to me.
By the third frame, the competitive energy has ramped up.
Anna and Tim are in second place. Collin and Jessica are in third, mostly because Jessica keeps guttering. And Harper and I are solidly in first.
Harper is thriving.
Every time she gets a strike or spare, she celebrates with me—hugs, high-fives, at one point she even does a little victory dance that makes me laugh so hard I almost choke on my soda.
But I also notice something else.
Every time Collin and Jessica get affectionate—his arm around her, her hand on his knee, a kiss on the cheek—Harper escalates.
She scoots closer to me.
Rests her hand on my arm.
Leans her head on my shoulder when it’s not our turn.
And I know—I know—it’s all for show.
But it’s killing me.
Because I like it.
Lord help me, I like it.
We’re in the seventh frame when Harper leans close and whispers, “Kiss my cheek.”
Everything in me goes still.
“Harper—”
“Collin’s watching.” Her voice is steady but quiet. “Please.”
I glance over. She’s right. He’s looking directly at us, jaw tight, something flickering behind his eyes that looks a lot like regret.
I look back at her.
She’s already tilted her head slightly, the smallest invitation, like she’s trying to make it easy for me. Like she hasn’t just asked me to do something I’ve thought about more than I should admit.
I take a slow breath.
Then I dip my head and press my lips softly to the curve of her neck, just below her jaw.
She goes perfectly still.
I feel the moment her breath catches — the slight tremble she tries to hide — and it takes everything I have to pull back casually, like that didn’t just cost me something.
I straighten and let my arm settle around her shoulders, pulling her into my side.
She melts against me without a word.
“You good?” I murmur into her hair.
She nods. A beat too late.
“Yeah,” she says quietly. “I’m good.”
She’s lying.
I know because I am too.
She tilts her head up to look at me, and we’re so close I can see the flecks of gold in her green eyes.
“You’re really good at this,” she whispers.
“At what?”
“The whole fake boyfriend thing.”
Right.
Fake boyfriend.
I force a smile. “Just trying to keep up with you.”
She grins, then turns her attention back to the game.
But my arm stays around her shoulders.
And she doesn’t move away.
By the ninth frame, it’s close.
Anna and Tim are only ten points behind us. Collin and Jessica have fallen further back, but Jessica doesn’t seem to care—she’s more interested in taking selfies with Collin than actually bowling.
Harper, on the other hand, is locked in.
“We can win this,” she says, standing up for her turn. “I just need a strike.”
“You’ve got this,” I say.
She grabs her ball, lines up, and rolls.
Strike.
“Yes!” She spins around, and I’m already on my feet.
She runs back, and this time when she jumps into my arms, I spin her around.
“That’s my girl!” I say again, and this time I don’t even care that I said it.
She’s laughing, her arms around my neck, and when I set her down, we’re standing so close I can feel her heartbeat.
“Your turn, Dimples,” she says breathlessly. “Bring us home.”
I grab the ball, my hands slightly shaking from adrenaline.
Or maybe from holding Harper.
I line up, take a breath, and roll.
The ball glides down the lane, hits the pocket perfectly, and—strike.
“Yeah!” Harper screams, and suddenly she’s on me again, arms around my neck, jumping up and down.
“We won! We won!”
I’m laughing, my hands on her waist, steadying her as she bounces.
“We did it, Freckles!”
“That was amazing!”
Anna and Tim are clapping. Even Jessica is cheering.
And then Harper looks up at me.
And the world goes quiet.
Her arms are still around my neck. My hands are still around her waist. We’re chest-to-chest, breathless, grinning.
And then—she kisses me.
It’s quick. Spontaneous. Born from adrenaline and celebration, and the heat of the moment.
But it’s also real.
Her lips are soft and warm, and for half a second, I forget that this is fake. Forget that we’re supposed to be pretending. Forget everything except the fact that Harper Mitchell is kissing me again, and I never want it to stop.
But then she pulls back.
Her eyes are wide, startled, like she didn’t mean to do that.
“I—” she starts.
And I don’t know what to say.
Because that didn’t feel fake.
Not even a little bit.
“Harper—”
“I gotta go to the bathroom,” she blurts out.
And then she’s gone.
Just turns and speed-walks toward the restrooms, leaving me standing in the middle of the bowling alley, my lips still tingling, my heart racing, and absolutely no idea what just happened.
Anna appears at my side. “Uh... you okay?”
“Yeah,” I manage. “Fine.”
“That was some celebration.”
“Yeah,” I gesture vaguely toward the restrooms. “I should check on her.”
“Maybe give her a minute?”
I nod, but I don’t move.
Because I can still feel her lips on mine.
And I don’t know if that kiss was part of the act.
Or if—for just a second—it was real.
Collin walks past, heading to return his shoes, and I catch his expression.
He looks... unsettled.
Good.
That was the point, right?
Make him jealous. Show him what he’s missing.
Except right now, I don’t care about Collin.
I only care about the girl who just kissed me and then ran away.
Tim claps me on the shoulder. “Congrats on the win, man. You two killed it.”
“Thanks,” I say automatically.
But I’m not thinking about bowling.
I’m thinking about Harper.
And the fact that I have no idea what happens next.