Chapter Two
“A guy and a girl can be just friends, but at one point or another, they will fall for each other . . . Maybe temporarily, maybe at the wrong time, maybe too late, or maybe forever.”
Dave Matthews
Jack
I stopped and took a moment to gaze at Ivy sitting in the terminal, cradling her cup of dark hot chocolate with two shots of caramel—just how she liked it. A thin curl of steam rose from the top. Her comfort drink, she called it.
It had taken longer than I’d expected to return to her after running to grab a protein bar. Fans never failed to stop me to chat or snap a picture. Most of the time, I didn’t mind, but today, I just wanted to get back to Ivy. I hadn’t seen her in weeks.
Our separations were becoming harder and harder on me. This time around, I knew I had to put an end to the ridiculous friendship game we’d been playing for seven years. I wanted all of her, and I was going to prove she wanted all of me, too.
She looked adorably sexy in joggers and a hoodie, her leg bouncing as she smiled, one earbud in, listening to her favorite history podcast. The past called to her in ways I’d never fully understood but admired.
Maybe because I hated thinking about my past. She shifted slightly, adjusting her earbud, her fingers tightening around the cup as she stole a quick glance at the boarding gate.
She’d never admit she was nervous about flying, but I knew her tells. The subtle bouncing of her leg, the way her grip tightened around her cup—tiny signs she thought no one noticed. But I did.
I did, because I noticed everything about her.
I so badly wanted to kiss the smile on her gorgeous face, to hold her hand in mine and tell her she had nothing to be nervous about. But I knew I had to play my cards right. She was the most stubborn person I’d ever met.
I kept wondering if she was hesitant about me coming home for the holidays with her because, deep down, she knew this could be a game changer for us and she’d have to swallow her pride . . . which would probably take a caramel hot chocolate the size of a kiddie pool to get down.
As I took a step toward her and what I hoped was our future together as more than friends, an unexpected yet familiar voice purred my name.
“Hello, Jack.”
My stomach tightened, a knot of irritation and dread twisting inside me. I steeled myself before turning around, instinctively shifting my body to block Ivy from view.
Sienna was the last person I wanted to see. I knew Ivy didn’t care for her. She’d never come out and said it, but every time Sienna was around, Ivy’s brow would pinch, and her nose would scrunch. She thought she had such a poker face, but I could always tell when she was bluffing.
As soon as I turned, Sienna came barreling into me, dressed like a snow bunny in a faux fur coat with her strawberry-blonde locks covered in a furry hat that probably cost a few thousand dollars.
I detected a gleam of victory in her amber eyes before she threw her arms around me.
Her perfume enveloped me, sweet and cloying, making me feel trapped.
“Hey, baby,” she squealed.
The endearment, paired with the way her fingers lingered on my back, made my insides squirm.
I’d told Sienna the last time we broke up, that was it.
We were over. There would be no more trying to work it out.
But Sienna didn’t believe me. She swore we weren’t through.
I didn’t blame her for not believing me; we had a penchant for getting back together even though it was obvious our relationship was superficial.
Sure, I liked Sienna. She was vivacious and fun, and we were a PR team’s dream. But I didn’t love her, and she didn’t really love me. She loved the idea of us. We were good in movies together, not in real life.
I needed something more than red carpet appearances under the flashing lights, with Sienna perfectly leaning into me and knowing all the right things to say.
I needed Ivy—warm and genuine, who smelled like wildflowers and coconut shampoo, laughed at inappropriate times, and couldn’t care less about putting on a show.
Even now, I knew people were probably snapping pictures of Sienna and me together with their phones.
“What are you doing here?”
The words came out sharper than I’d intended. Sienna was based out of LA, and Austin wasn’t exactly a common layover destination. And I hadn’t seen her for several months.
I didn’t believe in fate, and I certainly didn’t believe in coincidences—not where Sienna was concerned. Especially since the rumor was that she had just broken up again with Callan Baxter, a B-list Hollywood actor she was engaged to once upon a time. That was years before I met her.
Sienna dropped her arms and gave me that pouty look of hers. “Well, a little birdie told me you were going to Aspen Lake for a couple of weeks, and I adore that place. They have the best skiing, so I booked a chalet there for me and some friends. Of course, there’s room for you, too.”
Of course there was. Sienna never operated without a plan.
She didn’t stumble into things—she orchestrated them.
Just like she probably orchestrated getting on the same flight as me.
If that little birdie was my agent, Xavier, I was so firing him.
He always had a soft spot for Sienna, and he was one of the few people who knew where I was headed.
If Sienna thought she could just waltz in and rewrite my itinerary, she was sorely mistaken.
I knew I had to act quickly and decisively.
I couldn’t give Sienna even a modicum of hope there was a reconciliation in our future or that I wanted to see her at all during my first real foray into celebrating the holidays.
If I gave her even an inch, she’d want a trip around the world.
And we’d already taken too many of those together.
So, I panicked and said the first thing I could think of:
“Sienna, Ivy and I are together. I’ll be staying with her family.”
What the hell was I even saying? Ivy was going to strangle me. But I couldn’t take the words back now. The damage was done.
Sienna’s porcelain face turned a shade paler as she tried to gather her words.
In the meantime, Ivy appeared at my side. Oh, hell.
I had no choice but to play the part I’d just scripted for myself as Ivy’s leading man.
It was the role of a lifetime, and I’d been wanting to land the part for seven years.
I put my arm around Ivy, drawing her close to me in a more-than-friendly manner.
Despite the uncomfortable situation, her warm body against mine felt right.
I couldn’t help but notice how perfectly she fit tucked into my side.
Ivy stiffened, her gaze flicking to me with a mix of confusion and concern—probably wondering if I’d lost my mind, why I was being more than friendly, and what on earth Sienna was doing there. But before she could give voice to the questions crowding her eyes, Sienna finally found her words.
“I can’t believe you two are together. I mean, I always suspected there was something more going on.
But I just figured Jack was using you when he was bored.
” She pointed between us with her long, manicured fingernail, encrusted with what was probably a real diamond. “Because no. You two don’t fit.”
Before I could lambast her for saying something so callous, Ivy tsked and leaned into me as if to prove a point.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, but wow. Even for you, that was rude. Jack isn’t that kind of man, and I’m certainly not that kind of woman.” She grabbed my hand, and I instinctively curled my fingers around hers. “Let’s go, Jack. It’s almost time to board.”
And that was why I loved her. She said what needed to be said but didn’t want to stick around for the drama.
Unfortunately, Sienna was all about the drama.
“Mark my words: You two won’t last. And, Jack, you’ll be crawling back to me before you know it.”
Sienna’s words were bold, but her eyes glistened with tears.
For a fraction of a second, I felt bad. While I’d never been in love with Sienna, we’d had our moments and good times together.
She, more than anyone, had helped me acclimate to the Hollywood scene.
But after what she’d said about Ivy and me, I didn’t think we could even be friends now.
“Yeah, sure, whatever you say.” Ivy tugged on my hand, still oblivious to the mess I’d just created, and I wasn’t eager to explain. Especially now, with every eye—and several phones—turned toward us.
Ivy tolerated the attention I attracted, but she didn’t love it. Looking around, I had the sinking realization that she was about to get far more of it than she’d ever bargained for. For that, I felt awful.
I pulled Ivy to an empty spot near the window, the plane’s lights blinking steadily in the dark. Drawing her close, I took a breath, steadying myself before confessing what I’d done—and begging her to go along with it.
With Sienna headed to Aspen Lake, I had no choice but to keep up the charade. If she found out I’d lied, it would turn into a PR disaster, and with a new film being released in a few months, neither the studio nor my team would appreciate the headlines.
I tried to ease my conscience by reminding myself I hadn’t exactly lied. Ivy and I were together, and I was staying at her parents’ place. We just weren’t together, together. Unfortunately, that logic did little to assuage my guilt. Especially because . . . I wanted the charade to be real.
But perhaps this wasn’t a total disaster.
Maybe, just maybe, this was the perfect way for Ivy to see what I had always known—that we worked as more than just friends.
That we could be and should be something real.
Maybe this would give her the chance to swallow her pride and admit men and women can’t be friends, especially us.
What if a fake romance was the ticket to a real one?