My other option was to give into the inevitable and start looking for a new job.

An ache flared in my chest at the thought.

“The solution is staring you in the face,” Zoe said.

“It is?”

“Call Rhys, explain the situation, and tell him you need to arrange a fake date, just the two of you, so you can work on the intimacy thing.”

My cheeks flushed at the thought. “What does that mean exactly?”

Of course, my best friend knew about my whole deal with Rhys since she first suggested the app where I met Dean. Zoe Liu was a lot more outgoing and adventurous than I was. She pushed me out of my comfort zone and had a habit of doing that to most people.

Zoe grew up in Boston with her single mom, Anna Liu. Anna had emigrated from Shenzhen, Guangdong, China, when she was eighteen years old, in search of the American Dream. Instead Anna’s life here had only led to motherhood, poverty so extreme she and Zoe had been homeless for a while, and then eventually terminal cancer when Zoe was sixteen. It was a long story but that’s when Zoe’s wealthy British father was hauled into the picture. She didn’t have much of a relationship with him, but he set her up with a trust fund that allowed her to attend Boston University. Zoe was now an assistant producer on an afternoon daily talk show.

Zoe had taken some of her trust fund when she was in college and launched a charity for the homeless called Street Warriors. We met when I volunteered to help raise money,

My best friend was pretty awesome.

And I always listened to her advice. Even when it landed me in the position I now was in.

“Get your mind out of the gutter.” She grinned. “I didn’t mean that kind of intimacy. Unless you want it to be. I’ve googled him. I wouldn’t blame you.”

“Stop.” I waved away her comment. I didn’t need to know Zoe thought Rhys was hot. “What did you mean?”

“I mean you need to practice getting comfortable with each other. Have a chilled-out fake date together and get that first kiss out of the way. Maybe even a second and third kiss. When he reaches out to you and you reach out to him, it has to look natural.”

I scowled. “I thought I had been natural. He’s a touchy-feely guy, and I let him hold me.” It had been nice.

Zoe frowned. “I’ve never known you to be averse to physical affection so has it occurred to you that Creepy Pete is just trying to mess with your head?”

“Why would he do that? And it was Evan who was gossiping, apparently.”

“Yes, but maybe Creepy Pete twisted those words around to suit his purpose. This is the guy who freaked you out about your position at Horus in the first place.” Her expression softened with sympathy. “It wouldn’t be the first time someone resented you for merely breathing just because of who your family is.”

I sighed because she was reiterating my own suspicions about Pete. Both Zoe and I had dealt preconceived notions at college from people who judged us first and thought our parents’ money had paved the way for our success.

“But I know you, and it’ll put your mind at ease to practice. Call Rhys. Do it now. Tell him about paintball, tell him about Pete, and arrange a date. You’re paying him a lot of money, Parker. He’s not going to say no.”

“He did mention the whole kissing thing.” I nodded, coming around to the idea. Relief began to move through me as I realized there was still hope. “He said we needed to get a little more affectionate with each other to sell this.”

“I bet he did,” Zoe muttered.

“Excuse me?”

“Nothing.” She beamed. “Go call him.”

Little butterflies sprang to life in my belly at the idea of contacting Rhys. It had seemed like ages since we’d talked, and I was a little unsettled by the rush of anticipation I felt as I hurried through the open-plan living space and down the hall to the privacy of my bedroom.

Out of fairness and really a lack of preference, I’d taken the smallest of the bedrooms. It was still a little bare and unlived in because I hadn’t had time to put my stamp on it yet.

Settling down onto my bed, those butterflies grew frantic. Heart racing, I hit Rhys’s name on my cell before I could talk myself out of it.

It was a Thursday evening, I realized. Maybe he was on a date.

The thought caused an unpleasant lurch in my stomach.

“I was beginning to think I was being ghosted,” Rhys answered without preamble.

A stupid smile curled my lips at the sound of his deep voice. “It appears I’m not very good at this fake relationship stuff.”