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Noah: I don’t know how. We might just have to get married.

Claire: That is not happening.

Noah: My dad wants to know whether we’ve discussed names.

Claire: Names for what?

Noah: Our children, apparently.

Claire: I’m blocking all of you. I hate the Internet.

Noah smiled at the screen.

Friends. Family. Coworkers. Apparently, everyone had seen the picture and accepted their relationship without question.

He should have been worried.

Instead, the sight of Claire beside him with his hand at her waist and her body angled naturally toward his felt far too convincing.

Now his family thought Claire was his girlfriend. The problem was that Noah liked the idea far more than he should have.

On Wednesday, Noah came to Claire’s office to drop off an afternoon iced coffee when his mom texted him: Make sure to bring Claire the next time you come visit! I knew there was something special about her.

He smiled at his phone for a second too long. There was something special about her. His mom was right.

Maybe it was wrong of him to string his mom along when Claire wasn’t really his girlfriend.

He wished she was.

He looked toward Claire’s desk. She was arguing with a spreadsheet, one hand wrapped around the coffee he had brought her.

His mother’s message should have made him feel guilty. He knew that.

Instead, the thought of Claire spending another day with his family felt dangerously right.

Emily texted: Ainsley is ecstatic. She said she called it.

He didn’t know how to tell them it wasn’t real. Especially Ainsley. He couldn’t crush his sweet niece’s heart.

Somehow, they’d decided to let everyone believe it. If her coworkers thought they were dating, what was the harm in letting his family believe it too?

Claire told him she hadn’t spoken to her family, though she assumed they had seen the post. She said she wished she were surprised they hadn’t asked about it, but she wasn’t.

Noah had wanted to ask what she meant. Her expression warned him not to.

By Thursday, Claire had received an invitation to another work function, with explicit instructions to bring Noah.

Just like that, everybody believed they were dating. They didn’t know how to stop it.

By Sunday, the lie had lasted nearly a week and somehow gathered future commitments.

“Noah, we need to fix this,” Claire told him as they returned from walking Biscuit.

“Probably.”

“This has gotten out of hand.”

“A little.”