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I played my part and pretended it didn’t bother me, but holy shit.

“This wasn’t part of the deal,” I said, finally breaking the silence that had settled between us.

Beau shifted beside me. “I know.”

“I’m not micromanaging. You just started a rumor. A massive one. Without consulting me.”

“I know.” He had the decency to sound at least somewhat contrite. “I went with the nuclear option without discussing it with you first. That wasn’t fair.”

“Fair?” I turned to face him, incredulous. “Fair doesn’t even begin to cover it. By tomorrow morning, every gossip site in the country is going to be running stories about us. About our relationship. A relationship that doesn’t exist.”

He said nothing. I took the silence as an opportunity to stare at him without it being inappropriate. I was waiting for a response, so staring at him was acceptable. And damn. I liked looking at him. His profile was illuminated by the passing streetlights, highlighting the strong jaw and the nose that wasn’t perfect, but perfect on him.

He turned to look at me in the dim light. “The question now is, do we keep it up? Or do I tell the world I was just kidding?”

I let out a bitter laugh. “And what would that look like? ‘Sorry everyone, that passionate kiss at the charity gala was actually just a prank. My bad.’”

“When you put it that way.”

“There is no good way to put it.” I pressed my fingers to my temples, feeling a headache coming on. “If we say it was a lie, it draws more negative attention. I become the woman who lied. A woman who couldn’t get a hot guy to kiss her for real.”

“Hot guy?” he teased.

I ignored the comment. “Worse, I’m going to be the woman who got rejected by Beau Blackwell in front of the entire internet. The whole ice queen thing would grow wings and fly forever.”

“I wouldn’t reject you.”

“That’s not the point.”

The car slowed as we approached my neighborhood. The familiar gates of my community appeared ahead. Almost home. Almost away from this insanity. My safe space.

“For now we say nothing,” I said in complete disbelief to hear them from my own lips. “We don’t confirm anything. We don’t deny anything. We let this die down and go away on its own.”

Beau nodded. “That could work. People have short attention spans. Something else will come along and they’ll forget all about us.”

“Exactly.” I wanted to believe that. I needed to believe that.

The car pulled up to my house, the driver putting it in park. I reached for the door handle, desperate to escape the confined space and the man who had just turned my carefully ordered life into chaos.

“Darcy.”

I paused, not turning around.

“I really was trying to help. I saw you drowning and I threw you a life raft. Maybe it was the wrong life raft, but my intentions were good.”

I finally looked back at him. He looked less smug. Almost sincere.

“Good intentions don’t always lead to good outcomes,” I said. “Your life raft had a cinder block attached, but I appreciate that you were trying.”

It was the closest thing to a thank you I could manage.

I stepped out of the car and walked to my front door without looking back. I heard the car pull away as I let myself inside, the familiar quiet of my home wrapping around me like a blanket.

The heels came off first. I kicked them across the foyer, watching them skid across the hardwood floor. Then the earrings dropped carelessly onto the entry table. The necklace followed. I curled my toes, flexing them and giving them space to breathe.

I made my way upstairs, shedding the beautiful blue dress the moment I reached my bedroom. It pooled on the floor like a puddle. I left it there. I’d deal with it tomorrow. Or never. Never sounded appealing.

I pulled on my oldest, softest pajamas that always felt like being wrapped in a cloud. Money could buy happiness in the form of cashmere.