Chapter 22
PIPER
Itry to enter my apartment stealthily—shoes in one hand, dead phone and a bag containing my costume in the other.
My tank top is twisted, my shorts are inside out (when did that happen?), and I can still feel Ethan everywhere.
His hands. His mouth. The way he whispered my name against my skin like it was something holy.
I ease the door open, praying Riya’s still passed out in her post-Declan marathon coma.
“Well, well, well.”
Shit.
Riya’s perched on our kitchen counter, coffee mug raised in salute. She’s wearing an oversized Totoro shirt and the expression of someone who’s been waiting for this exact moment.
“I was just—”
“Doing the walk of shame?” She takes a long, deliberate sip. “Please, don’t let me interrupt your stealth mission. You are doing great.”
“It’s not what it looks like.”
“Oh, honey.” She hops down, circling me like a detective at a crime scene.
“It’s exactly what it looks like. Smudged makeup—is that eyeliner on your cheek?
Impressive. Hair that’s been thoroughly grabbed.
That specific ‘I’ve been kissed within an inch of my life’ look.
” She leans closer. “Holy shit, is that a hickey? Multiple hickeys? Piper Renner, you absolute legend.”
My hand flies to my neck. The memory of Ethan’s mouth there makes me shiver.
“Oh, this is delicious.” She steers me to the couch. “Sit. Spill. I need every dirty detail.”
“There are no dirty details,” I lie, sinking into the cushions. Everything aches in the most delicious way.
“Bullshit. You’re literally glowing. You look like you’ve been plugged into some power source.” She pauses, glancing at my costume bag. “Which, technically...”
“Riya.”
“Fine, fine. But you’re telling me everything. Start with how fake dating turned into real... whatever has you walking like that.”
“I’m not walking like anything!”
“You’re walking like someone who got thoroughly—”
“Coffee,” I interrupt. “I need coffee before this interrogation continues.”
She’s already moving to the kitchen. “Shame coffee coming right up.”
“It’s not shame coffee. It’s... complicated coffee.”
“The best kind.” The French press gurgles. “So... Ethan? The guy who you’re “not interested in,” who is just “tutoring” you.” She makes air quotes aggressive enough to injure someone.
I bury my face in a pillow. “Kill me.”
“After story time.” She returns with two mugs, curling up beside me. “Come on. What happened? Last I heard, this was all fake to make Miles jealous.”
I accept the coffee gratefully, trying to organize my thoughts. “It was. Or it was supposed to be. But then...”
“But then?”
I think about Ethan in his ridiculous leaf garland, defending me to Miles. About hiding in his room, the way he looked at me. About his hands and his mouth and the way he made me feel powerful and wanted and real.
“But then I realized I was done waiting for someone who was never going to want me,” I say quietly. “So I decided to go after what I actually wanted.”
“Which was?”
“Him.” The admission comes out soft, wondering. “I wanted Ethan. Not to make anyone jealous, not to prove a point. Just... because he makes me feel like myself. The real version, not the one I kept trying to reshape for Miles.”
Riya’s expression gentles. “Oh, babe. You actually like him.”
“I really do.” I set down my mug, needing my hands free to gesture. “Is that insane? We’ve only known each other for a few weeks.”
“Fuck timelines. I knew Declan was it when he correctly identified my Doc Martens as vintage. Sometimes, you just know.”
“But what if I’m just going for the first guy I speak to? What if—”
“What if you’re actually happy for the first time in years?
” She cuts me off. “Piper, I’ve watched you dim yourself for so long.
And now you’re sitting here looking absolutely wrecked in the best way, glowing like you discovered a new freakin’ life source.
” She gestures at my general dishevelment.
“This? This is what you look like when someone actually wants you back.”
My throat goes tight. “He kept asking if I was sure. Like my wanting him was this precious thing he didn’t want to break.”
“And were you? Sure?”
I flash back to the moment I turned in his arms, decision crystallizing. The way his whole body responded to my touch. How he looked at me like I was beautiful.
“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”
“Then fuck the timeline. Fuck rebounds. Fuck whatever weird shame spiral you’re about to enter.” She raises her mug. “To Piper Renner, who finally stopped waiting for permission to want things.”
“I don’t know what happens now,” I admit. “The fake dating thing is obviously over, but what if he—”
My phone buzzes, mercifully charged enough to function.
Ethan
Made it home safe? Greg is distraught. Says you left your glasses and he’s worried you’ll walk into traffic.
I may have put them on him. He looks like a gentleman.
A photo loads. Greg wearing my glasses, his wizard hat perched jauntily on top, one leaf bent in what could generously be called a wave.
A stupid, unstoppable smile spreads across my face.
“You’re grinning like an idiot,” Riya observes.
“His plant is wearing my glasses.”
“Oh my god, you’re both nerds. This is perfect.” She leans over to look. “Wait, does his plant have a hat?”
“Long story.”
Tell Greg he pulls off the sexy librarian look better than I do.
Impossible. Though he is pretty striking.
Lunch today? I’ll bring your glasses. Real date this time, no audience required?
My heart does something complicated in my chest.
“What’s he saying?” Riya demands.
“He wants to take me to lunch. A real date.”
“And?”
I think about pretending to consider it, but who am I kidding?
Yes. Absolutely yes.
Perfect. Noon? I’ll pick you up.
Can’t wait.
“So the fake dating is over,” Riya says, reading my expression perfectly.
“So over,” I agree, feeling light and terrified and wonderful.
“Good. Because I can’t wait for us to share sex stories. I have some crazy ones.”
“I’m moving out. Today. Immediately.”
“You’re never moving out. Who else would enable your questionable decisions with such enthusiasm?” She pulls me into a hug. “I’m proud of you, you know. For going after what you wanted.”
“Even if what I want is an ex-jock, which I swore I would never want?”
“Especially then. The best things come from the worst plans.”
I hug her back, feeling settled in a way I haven’t in years. “Thanks, Ry.”
“Anytime. Now go shower. You smell like a boy.” She wrinkles her nose.
I head to the bathroom, catching my reflection in the mirror. She’s right—I look thoroughly wrecked. Hickeys blooming across my throat, lips swollen, hair a disaster. But underneath all that, I look... happy.
Actually happy.
My phone buzzes again.
For the record, last night was... Incredible Pip.
Can’t wait to see you.
I press the phone to my chest like a teenager, grinning at my wrecked reflection.