Page 38 of Pretend for Me

He offers his large hand for a shake. “Piper. I’m Deepak, Dev’s father.” He glances at his son. “Dev has been quite tight-lipped about the two of you, but we’re glad to finally meet you.”

I take his hand in mine briefly, noting his assessing gaze sizing me up. “Thank you for inviting me to your beautiful home. It’s good to meet you, too.”

Hurried footsteps resound from the staircase a second later, and we all turn to look at a little girl who could only be Dev’s sister, Deena, based on not only her resemblance to him but the lively personality he described her to be.

She waves, looking from Dev to me. “Hi!”

Dev places his palm at the base of my spine. “Deena, this is Piper. Piper, my pain in the neck little sister, Deena.”

Deena makes a face at him. “Pain in the neck? I thought I was a pain in your butt, which is a title I worked hard for, thank you very much.”

Dev scoffs. “Pretty sure you’ve never had to work very hard to earn that title. You were born with it.”

“Whatever,” Deena huffs. “Just for that, I’m not letting you have any of my new temporary tattoos.”

“Oh no.” Dev places a hand on his chest, feigning hurt. “How will I ever survive?”

She squints at him before turning to me. “Are you sure you want to marry my annoying brother? No one would blame you if you decided to run.”

I giggle, looking from her to Dev. “Oh, I don’t know. I think I’m going to stick it out for now.”

Dev shrugs, holding out the drink we’d stopped by at a restaurant to buy her before heading here. “Well, I guess I’ll just throw away this boba tea, then. You know, since I’m soannoying?—”

“No!” She rushes to him, taking the cup from his hand and giving him a quick hug. “I was just kidding. What I meant to say was Piper is so lucky to be marrying you.”

Dev chuckles as Claire gives the two of them an admonishing look. “Deena, didn’t we talk about not having so much sugar? And you definitely can’t have it before dinner.”

Deena frowns down at the drink in her hand, her eyes hopeful. “But you wouldn’t want me to waste this, would you? I’ll wait to have it after dinner. Promise, Mom.”

Claire shakes her head, taking a defeated breath. “Fine.”

Wrapping her hand around the crook of my elbow, she gently leads me past the large sitting area, with Dev, Deena, and their father following behind us. We walk down a large corridor lined with their family pictures, and I smile at a particular one of a younger Dev holding his infant sister in his arms, to an equally massive kitchen where a couple of people I assume are staff bustle around, focused on their tasks.

As expected, though quite different from Dev’s modern home, his parents’ place is enormous, with sprawling ceilings, large staircases, and wall-to-wall windows on one side of the kitchen overlooking a beautiful rose garden.

The aromas inside the kitchen do nothing to ease the nervous energy fluttering inside me as I settle into a chair Dev pulls out for me. My mind races, rapidly answering questions his parents haven’t even asked yet, while my heart pounds, hoping I don’t screw up playing my part.

Dev takes his place beside me, his thigh brushing againstmine, calming some of my nerves, even while it sends a thrill down my spine.

Does he feel that, too? That jolt of electricity?

Clearing his throat, he casually picks up my hand, gently grazing his thumb over my knuckles, sending goosebumps soaring over my arms.

When I turn to meet his gaze, peering at him from under my lashes, something flickers in his eyes. Is that . . . affection?

Of course it’s not.

It’s pretend.

A performance and a production.

Sure, our conversation in the car—you know, the one where I asked him to fuck me—was interrupted prematurely by my dad’s text message, but let’s be real. My fiancé practically stopped breathing at my question, as if the thought itself was the most repulsive and scary thing he’d ever had to face.

God, this is all getting so confusing. Not because I don’t know my role in this, but because somewhere over the past couple of weeks, my heart’s forgotten that it was never supposed to get involved.

I’m just about to lean over to tell him to forget about my temporary bout of insanity when Dev’s parents join us, sitting together on the chairs in front of me and Dev. His dad pulls a blanket over Claire’s lap before placing a tender kiss on her temple, while Dev’s sister settles herself on the chair at the end, eyeing her boba tea wistfully.

“Did you grow up in the Bay Area, Piper?” Claire asks, her voice sounding more tired than just five minutes ago.

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