Chapter Two #2
“I am not letting you switch me out for Beckett.”
“This is fake.”
“I heard that part.”
“You sound jealous.”
“I sound insulted.”
“Why?”
“Because Beckett owns three capes.”
“Four,” Beckett corrected.
Emmett ignored him.
Piper studied Emmett’s face.
“You actually want to do this.”
It was not a question.
Emmett considered lying.
He did not enjoy cameras. He did not enjoy strangers discussing his personal life. He had no desire to give his agent another reason to talk about branding.
But he wanted Piper.
That was separate from wanting to fake date her.
Mostly.
He had wanted her since the first week of the summer, when she climbed onto the roof of the rental office during a storm because a sponsor banner had come loose.
Emmett had followed her up.
She had called him an overgrown safety violation.
He had held the ladder while she fixed the banner.
Afterward, she bought him coffee and talked for twenty straight minutes about why outdoor event signage was a personal betrayal.
He had listened to all of it.
Then she started dating Owen publicly, and Emmett decided wanting her was inconvenient.
He was good at ignoring inconvenient things.
Usually.
Piper was harder to ignore.
“I said I would do it,” he answered.
“That does not tell me why.”
“Five thousand dollars.”
“The scholarship goal is already met.”
“It can fund more kids.”
Her expression shifted.
She could not argue with that.
He continued. “The clip exists. Keeping the arrangement avoids making the mistake the story.”
“You think becoming my fake boyfriend will attract less attention than refusing?”
“No.”
“At least you are realistic.”
“It gives us control over what comes next.”
That word caught her.
Control.
Emmett had chosen it deliberately.
Piper glanced at Maren.
Maren remained neutral.
Griffin did not.
“This is a terrible idea,” he said.
“Thank you,” Piper replied.
“I was speaking to both of you.”
“Fair.”
Ava leaned against Nate. “It is not the worst bet this summer.”
Maren turned toward her. “That is not the standard.”
“It is the available standard.”
Nate looked at Emmett.
“Do you understand what you are agreeing to?”
“No.”
“Good. None of us did.”
Griffin sighed.
Tyler took a folded page from his pocket.
“I have preliminary rules.”
Piper held out her hand.
Tyler gave them to her.
She read the first line.
“No.”
“You have only read the heading.”
“It says Contract of Boyfriend Excellence.”
“Branding.”
She tore off the top section.
Tyler pressed a hand to his chest.
Piper scanned the remaining list.
“Six public dates. Three social posts per week. One live check-in every Sunday. Public physical affection as needed.”
Emmett took the page from her.
“Public physical affection as needed?”
Tyler nodded. “Hand holding. Arms around waists. Occasional kissing.”
Piper snatched the page back.
“No kissing.”
The answer was too fast again.
Emmett looked at her.
She noticed.
“Fake kissing is unnecessary.”
“People will notice.”
“People do not need access to my mouth.”
Beckett nodded. “Powerful boundary.”
“Thank you.”
“Could be difficult narratively.”
“Never mind.”
Emmett folded his arms.
“No kissing unless cameras are present.”
Piper stared at him.
“That is the opposite of what I said.”
“It makes more sense.”
“How?”
“If the relationship is fake, kissing privately would be confusing.”
“I am not kissing you publicly either.”
“Then the audience will know.”
“Plenty of couples do not kiss online.”
“Not fake couples trying to prove they are real.”
Her eyes narrowed.
He kept his face neutral.
This was becoming enjoyable.
That was probably a warning.
Piper took a marker from the supply table and turned the rules sheet over.
“Fine. New rules.”
She wrote as she spoke.
“Thirty days.”
“Nine days of summer,” Miles said.
Piper did not look up. “The title is thematic.”
“Understood.”
“Six public dates. No surprise livestreams.”
Tyler opened his mouth.
“No,” everyone said.
He closed it.
Piper continued. “No discussing private information without permission. No using this arrangement for contract negotiations, sponsorships, or publicity unrelated to the scholarship fund.”
Emmett nodded.
“No jealousy,” she said.
“Unnecessary.”
Her marker paused.
“Good.”
“No real kissing,” she added.
Emmett looked at the page.
“What qualifies as real?”
Her cheeks turned pink.
“A kiss without an audience.”
“So the public ones are fake.”
“Yes.”
“How will you know?”
Piper stared at him.
The tent became painfully quiet.
Emmett heard Beckett inhale with delight.
Piper placed the marker against the paper with excessive care.
“Because I will.”
Emmett gave a single nod.
“Useful system.”
She wrote harder.
“No sleeping together.”
Tyler whispered, “Strong opening week.”
Griffin shoved him into a stack of spare life jackets.
Piper added the final rule.
“Whoever develops feelings first loses.”
Emmett looked at her.
The rest of the tent seemed to disappear.
She believed this rule protected her.
It did not.
If feelings counted, Emmett had lost before he stepped onto the stage.
He had lost when she handed him coffee on the rental office roof.
He had lost when she argued with a sponsor twice her age because he insulted one of the teenage volunteers.
He had lost when she cried behind the equipment shed after Owen’s video, then wiped her face and spent the next three hours making sure every child at the event received a free meal ticket.
Emmett had been losing all summer.
He had simply done it quietly.
“That rule works,” he said.
Piper looked almost relieved.
“Excellent.”
She signed her name at the bottom of the paper and handed him the marker.
Emmett signed beneath hers.
Tyler pulled himself free from the life jackets.
“We need a first date.”
“No,” Piper said.
“Yes,” Maren said at the same time.
Piper turned.
Maren held up her phone.
“The clip is at one hundred and thirty thousand views. People think Emmett’s line was planned. The simplest way to control the story is to make one clear post tonight, then announce the first date.”
Piper’s shoulders tightened.
Emmett saw it.
He moved closer, keeping his voice low.
“You can stop this.”
She looked up at him.
“You just spent fifteen minutes refusing to let me.”
“I wanted the choice to be yours.”
“It was.”
“Was it?”
Piper looked toward the tent entrance.
Beyond it, the event continued. Children shouted near the skills relay. Music played. Volunteers called instructions.
Her life had kept moving while strangers turned one terrible afternoon into entertainment.
She looked back at Emmett.
“If I stop now, the story becomes that I rejected you.”
“I can survive.”
“I know.”
“It is not your responsibility.”
“No, but the scholarship money matters.”
“It is already secured.”
“The engagement goal secured five thousand. If we continue, Paulson says the donor will match another five.”
Emmett looked at Tyler.
Tyler pointed toward Paulson outside the tent.
“Real donor.”
Piper’s mouth curved slightly.
“Ten thousand dollars buys a lot of equipment.”
Emmett knew she had already decided.
He also knew she wanted one person to acknowledge what the choice cost.
“Then we do it,” he said.
“We?”
“You are not carrying the entire thing.”
Something moved across her face.
Quick.
Unprotected.
Then the bright smile returned.
“Good. First date tomorrow.”
Emmett glanced at the event schedule posted on the wall.
“You have setup at seven.”
“Eight.”
“You arrive at seven.”
“How do you know?”