Page 44 of Empty Net

“Finally!” Selene tacks on, unable to stop herself from throwing one last dig at her daughter.

“Kiss her!” someone hollers.

“Yeah, give her a kiss!” another stranger adds.

It’s so weird that these people I just met are so invested, but I get the feeling they aren’t going to let up anytime soon, especially when I see the look on her parents’ faces, each waiting for the same thing as if they refuse to believe it until they see it.

Shit. Ihaveto kiss her. I don’t have a choice.

I turn to Lilah to ask her if it’s okay, but it’s pointless. It’s pointless because the second I turn to her, she winds her hand into my hair, pulls me down, and presses her lips against mine.

I’m kissing Lilah.

Or Lilah is kissing me.

I don’t know, and I don’t care. All I know is she tastes like vodka and champagne and far, far, far too fucking good for it to be legal. Her lips are soft and sweet, working slowly against mine as her fingertips scrape against my head. I’m not sure which one feels better or if it’s just the combination of the two. Either way, I don’t want it to stop, especially with how good her body feels pressed so close.

But sadly, just as quickly as it begins, it’s over. She releases me, pulling away with a saccharine grin aimed at her parents, the kind of expression that says,There. Are you happy now?

Right. This is fake. This is one hundred percent all for show.

I clear my throat, ignoring my shaking hand as I drag it through my hair to straighten it. I don’t know what the hell that was, but I do know that even though I shouldn’t, I want to do it again.

I look over at Lilah, who is talking with one of her parents’ friends, and she appears completely unfazed by our little show. Did she not just feel what I felt? Did the earth not tilt just a little? Was she not affected by that kiss at all?

I don’t have time to worry about it. I’m too busy being peppered with question after question and congratulations after congratulations. It’s a shitshow, and we’re asked when we’re getting married about eight different times before Lilah announces she’d like to talk to herfiancéin private.

I don’t miss how pointedly she says it as she drags methrough the party. She doesn’t stop until we’re both tucked into a small bathroom—which I definitely wouldn’t have found on my own—the door shut behind us.

One. Two. Three.

That’s how many seconds it takes before she whirls on me and all hell breaks loose.

“What the hell was that?!”

Given she just kissed the daylights out of me and then acted like it didn’t happen, I could ask her the same thing, but I guess telling her parents we’re engaged is the more pressing issue right now.

“Okay, look,” I start, holding my palms up, “I know that was a little out of left field, but?—”

“A little?!” She throws her hands into the air. “That was more than a little. That was completely…completely…What the hell?” she repeats.

“I had a good reason.”

She crosses her arms over her chest. “Oh, it had better bereallygood. In case you just blacked out back there, you told my parents we were engaged.Engaged, Fox.”

“I know, and that was intentional, but in my defense, I did tell you I couldn’t be held responsible for what comes out of my mouth if I heard them tearing you down, and I did. I was on my way to the bathroom, and I overheard your parents discussing us. Discussingyou, really. They…” I grit my teeth, trying to keep my cool just thinking of those awful people. “They aren’t just upset that you’re dating a hockey player, okay? They’re pissed you’re not following their orders. They want you to date someone with more…status. Someone who will help pad their pockets in the end. They want to break us up as soon as possible to get you ‘back on track,’ whatever that means. So that means this?” I wag my finger between us. “This ruse isn’t working. It’s not enough that we’re dating. They needed more.”

“Of course they did. They always do.” She shakes her head. “As sweet as that was of you, Fox, it’s also absolutely insane. I can’t ask you to do this.”

“Maybe, but you’re not asking me to do this. I’m volunteering.”

She narrows her eyes. “You know what I mean. This is too much. Pretending to be my boyfriend for an evening is one thing, but pretending to be engaged? That’s a whole different level.”

“Does it mean your family is off your back and you’re safe from them?”

“Well, yes, but?—”

“Then it’s not too much.” I shrug.

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