Noah picks me up at seven. It’s supposed to be another part of the game—a “fake date” to keep up appearances. I remind myself of that over and over as I climb into his car. But the way he smiles when he sees me makes my chest tighten.
“Wow,” he says, giving me a once-over. “You clean up nice, Evans.”
I roll my eyes, trying to ignore the warmth creeping up my neck. “It’s just a jacket.”
Noah chuckles and puts the car into drive. “If you say so.”
The plan is simple: dinner at the diner near the beach, a few photos to stir up more gossip, and then we go home. Easy.
But nothing about tonight feels easy.
The diner is packed, but Noah doesn’t seem to care. He guides me to a booth near the window, his hand resting lightly on my lower back. It’s a small gesture, but it sends a shiver down my spine.
“Relax,” he murmurs as we sit down. “You look like you’re expecting an ambush.”
“Maybe I am,” I mutter, glancing around.
He grins. “The only danger here is me stealing your fries.”
I roll my eyes but can’t help the small smile that tugs at my lips.
The waitress comes by, and Noah orders for both of us—my usual: a cheeseburger, extra pickles, and a chocolate milkshake.
I blink at him. “How did you—”
He shrugs. “I pay attention.”
It’s such a simple answer, but it throws me off. Jason never remembered little things like that. Hell, half the time, he forgot what my favorite color was.
“Okay,” I say slowly. “Weird, but okay.”
Noah just laughs.
When the food arrives, we eat in comfortable silence. It’s… nice. Too nice. I keep reminding myself that this is all fake, but it’s hard to believe that when Noah looks at me the way he does—like I’m the only person in the room.
“You’re staring,” I point out, raising an eyebrow.
He doesn’t look away. “Maybe I like what I see.”
My heart skips a beat.
“Cut it out,” I say, but my voice comes out softer than I intended.
“Why?” he asks, leaning forward. “Does it make you nervous?”
Yes.
“No,” I lie.
He chuckles, sitting back. “Sure, Evans. Whatever you say.”
I focus on my milkshake, hoping he doesn’t notice how flustered I am.
This is getting dangerous.
After dinner, we walk along the beach. The sun has already set, leaving only the glow of the streetlights to guide us.
Noah takes my hand without asking. His fingers intertwine with mine, warm and steady.
It’s just for show, I remind myself. Just part of the act.
But when he squeezes my hand gently, my chest tightens again.
I glance up at him, but he’s already looking at me—really looking at me.
“What?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.
“Nothing,” he says softly. “You just… you deserve better than all of this.”
My throat tightens.
For a moment, I forget that this is fake. For a moment, I forget everything.
And that’s when I know I’m in trouble.
The next day at school, the rumors are worse than ever. People are still talking about our “date,” and I catch more than a few envious looks from other girls.
Jason, however, is not amused.
He corners me outside the library between classes, his expression dark.
“We need to talk,” he says, grabbing my arm.
I yank it away. “About what?”
“About you and Noah,” he snaps.
I laugh bitterly. “Why do you care?”
Jason’s jaw tightens. “I just… I don’t want you getting hurt.”
“Seriously?” I glare at him. “You’re worried about me now? After everything you did?”
He flinches but recovers quickly. “Savannah and I—”
“Save it,” I interrupt. “You made your choice. Remember?”
Jason takes a step closer, his voice lowering. “Are you actually into him?”
I cross my arms. “Why does it matter?”
“Because—” He hesitates, like he doesn’t know how to finish the sentence.
I tilt my head. “You have Savannah. Isn’t that what you wanted?”
He doesn’t answer.
“Exactly,” I say, turning to leave. “We’re done here.”
But before I can walk away, he grabs my wrist.
“Layla,” he says softly.
I pull my arm free. “Goodbye, Jason.”
That night, I’m lying in bed, staring at the ceiling.
Jason’s words keep playing in my head. Are you actually into him?
I don’t know how to answer that.
The phone vibrates on my nightstand, breaking the silence. I grab it, my heart pounding. A new message flashes on the screen.
“He doesn’t love her. But he doesn’t love you either.”
