Chapter Six #2
“What is this?” he asked.
“Everything you left on the dock.”
His chest tightened.
The lanterns.
The blanket.
The empty food containers.
She had gone back.
“You collected it this morning?”
“At six.”
“You should have called.”
“You should stop assuming every difficult moment requires you.”
The sentence landed exactly where she intended.
Emmett accepted the box.
“You are right.”
Piper removed her sunglasses.
Her eyes were tired and red.
He tightened his grip on the cardboard rather than reaching for her.
“The Arden family canceled,” he said.
Maren must have told her he knew because she did not look surprised.
“Yes.”
“I am sorry.”
“So am I.”
“Can I help?”
“No.”
The answer came quickly.
Emmett nodded.
Piper’s mouth tightened.
“Do not do that.”
“What?”
“Accept everything immediately.”
“You said no.”
“I know.”
“Would you like me to argue?”
“No.”
“Then I am running out of choices.”
For the first time that morning, something almost amused moved across her face.
It disappeared.
Piper looked toward the lake.
“I sent Owen that message after the golf club dinner.”
“I remember the night.”
Her eyes returned to him. “Of course you do.”
Emmett waited.
She wrapped both arms around herself.
“Owen arrived late. He spent an hour talking to a woman whose father was considering investing in his company. When I asked him to help me pack afterward, he said networking was more important than carrying centerpieces.”
Emmett remembered wanting to drag Owen back into the parking lot by his shirt.
“I found you behind the kitchen,” she continued. “You loaded my car. You sat on the curb while I ate stolen bread. You asked whether I was happy.”
“I remember.”
“I lied.”
“Yes.”
Her eyebrows lifted. “You knew?”
“You said happy people do not analyze happiness.”
“That sounded convincing at the time.”
“It sounded rehearsed.”
Piper looked away again.
“When I got home, Owen asked why I was quiet. I told him you had noticed something was wrong in twenty minutes when he had missed it for months.”
The message had not been a confession.
It had been an accusation against Owen.
Emmett should have felt relief.
Instead, he felt something quieter and more complicated.
“You did see me more clearly,” Piper said. “That was true.”
Emmett placed the box beside the porch railing.
“Did that frighten you?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I liked it.”
His pulse changed.
Piper continued before he could speak.
“I liked that you noticed when I had not eaten. I liked that you did not ask me to make the conversation entertaining. I liked sitting beside you without trying to manage the silence.”
Emmett held very still.
She laughed once, softly and without humor. “Apparently, Owen was not completely wrong.”
“About what?”
“I noticed you.”
“That is not betrayal.”
“I was in a relationship.”
“You sat on a curb with me.”
“I thought about it afterward.”
“So did I.”
Her eyes lifted to his.
Emmett could feel the moment change.
No cameras.
No teammates.
No public bet.
Just Piper standing close enough that he could see the faint imprint of her sunglasses against her skin.
“What did you think about?” she asked.
He could lie.
The answer would protect the arrangement.
The truth had already survived worse things.
“Kissing you.”
Piper stopped breathing.
Emmett’s voice remained steady, though nothing else inside him did.
“You were eating a dinner roll and complaining about chair rentals. I thought about kissing you.”
“You never acted like it.”
“You had a boyfriend.”
“That has not stopped every man.”
“It stopped me.”
Her gaze moved over his face.
Emmett had spent the entire summer controlling where he looked, how long he stood near her, and how quickly he left whenever attraction became visible.
Apparently, he had not hidden it from Owen.
Perhaps he had not hidden it from Piper either.
“I thought about you too,” she said.
The words were barely audible.
Every thought in Emmett’s mind disappeared.
Piper seemed to realize what she had admitted.
She stepped back.
“Not like that.”
“Piper.”
“I wondered what it would be like to date someone who paid attention.”
“That sounds like that.”
“It was hypothetical.”
“Very specific hypothetical.”
“This is why I did not want to tell you.”
“Because I would listen?”
“Because you would become calm and impossible.”
“I am standing on a porch.”
“Exactly.”
Emmett fought the urge to smile.
It would not help.
Piper put her sunglasses back on even though the porch was shaded.
“I came to say we should continue.”
The shift caught him off guard.
“The fake relationship.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because ending it now gives Owen exactly what he wants. He gets to release one cropped message and decide what it means. He gets to make me look dishonest, then watch me run.”
“You lost a client.”
“I know.”
“This may cost you more.”
“I know.”
Emmett read her.
“You are angry.”
“Yes.”
“You said not to make decisions because someone forced them.”
“That is why I waited.”
“Until nine in the morning.”
“I have been awake since four.”
“That explains nothing good.”
Piper removed a folded page from her sweater pocket.
A replacement agreement.
Emmett recognized the rules, now typed instead of handwritten.
She handed it to him.
A new line appeared beneath the others.
Neither party will lie about feelings that existed before the agreement.
Emmett looked at her.
“That rule is aimed at me.”
“It is aimed at both of us.”
“You thought about me hypothetically.”
“Do not become pleased.”
“Too late.”
Her lips pressed together.
He continued reading.
Another rule had been added.
Either party may end the arrangement at any time. No explanation required.
Emmett looked up.
“You never needed my permission to leave.”
“I need it written down.”
“Fine.”
“One more thing.”
Piper stepped closer.
“The next date happens in public.”
“You hate eating in public.”
“We do not have to eat.”
“What are we doing?”
“A couple interview.”
“No.”
She folded her arms. “That was quick.”
“I told Graham no.”
“This is not for Graham.”
“Who is it for?”
“Me.”
Emmett waited.
Piper took out her phone and opened an email.
The Arden family’s cancellation was visible near the top.
Beneath it was another message from a lifestyle platform with more than ten million followers.
We would like to offer Piper Quinn and Emmett Novak a live interview to discuss the leaked agreement, Owen Keller’s claims, and whether their relationship began before the bet.
“They want to ask whether you cheated,” Emmett said.
“They want to ask whether I emotionally cheated.”
“No.”
“I can answer.”
“You should not have to.”
“That has never stopped anyone from asking.”
Emmett looked at the email again.
The interview was scheduled for the following evening. Live. No editing. Full audience questions.
A disaster.
Piper seemed determined.
“Why this?” he asked.
“Because my clients are making decisions based on Owen’s version. I need them to see me answer without hiding.”
“You do not owe strangers your private life.”
“No. But I owe my business a response.”
Emmett returned the phone.
“What do you need from me?”
The question surprised her.
He saw it.
Piper looked at the replacement agreement.
“I need you beside me.”
“Done.”
“I need you not to answer for me.”
“Fine.”
“I need you to be honest when they ask why you agreed.”
Emmett held her gaze.
“That answer may make the fake part difficult.”
“It is already difficult.”
“No. It may make it impossible.”
Her expression became cautious.
“What is the answer?”
Emmett stepped closer.
Piper did not retreat.
He lowered his voice.
“I agreed because when they announced my name, you looked terrified.”
Her brow furrowed.
“That sounds romantic.”
“It is not the whole answer.”
“What is?”
“I knew the internet would punish you if I refused.”
“I know.”
“I knew the scholarship money mattered.”
“I know.”
“I knew Beckett would turn every date into theater.”
“Also known.”
Emmett looked directly into her eyes.
“And I knew it might be the only chance I ever got to find out whether you could want me back.”
Piper’s lips parted.
The porch door opened behind them.
Tyler stepped outside.
“Paulson needs everyone at the lake in twenty minutes. Also, there are reporters at the entrance, and one of them has a drone.”
Neither Emmett nor Piper looked away from each other.
Tyler slowly stepped backward.
“I will return to the emotionally unsafe interior.”
The door closed.
Piper swallowed.
“You cannot say that tomorrow.”
“You asked for honesty.”
“Not career-ending honesty.”
“It is not my career.”
“It might be mine.”
Emmett understood.
If he told millions of people that he had entered the bet hoping she might return his feelings, the fake arrangement would become real in every way that frightened her.
Piper looked down at the agreement.
“Can you lie?”
“Yes.”
“Convincingly?”
“Yes.”
“To me?”
The question landed differently.
Emmett thought about every time he had pretended not to watch her. Every moment he had acted indifferent because she belonged to someone else.
“Yes.”
Her face closed.
He continued before she misunderstood.
“But I will not.”
Piper looked at him.
“Then what happens when they ask whether this relationship is fake?”
Emmett glanced toward the driveway where reporters waited beyond the cabin trees.
He could hear the distant hum of a drone.
“I tell them the agreement is fake.”
“And us?”
Emmett reached for the replacement contract.
His fingers brushed hers.
This time, neither pulled away.
“That answer depends on you.”
Piper’s breathing changed.
She looked at their joined hands, then back at him.
“The message Owen posted was real,” she said.
“I know.”
“It was not the only one.”
Emmett stopped moving.
Piper’s fingers tightened around the paper between them.
“There was another message below it.”
“What did it say?”
Her eyes held his.
“I told Owen that if I were single, I was afraid I might choose you.”