Page 79 of The #FakeBoyfriend Bet

TWENTY-FOUR

Max

I've changedshirts three times in the past twenty minutes, which feels like a new personal record in pre-family-dinner anxiety. The blue button-down is too formal. The gray henley too casual. The black shirt too funeral-esque. I settle on a deep green that Lena once mentioned brings out my eyes, though I suspect no amount of favorable eye enhancement will soften Robert Carter's scrutiny tonight. The last time I sat at the Carters' dining table, I was playing the role of devoted boyfriend while secretly harboring genuine feelings. Now I'm genuinely devoted while officially playing a role for the Luminous Beauty contract. The layers of reality and performance have become so intertwined that sometimes even I lose track of what's what—but one thing is crystal clear: tonight isn't a performance. Tonight is about convincing Lena's family that what we have is real, that I'm worthy of her, that I won't hurt her again. And based on the text Lena just sent, I'm going to need all the favorable eye enhancement I can get.

Dad's making his signature old fashioned. You've been warned.

The buzzer rings, announcing Lena's arrival to pick me up. One last check in the mirror—hair reasonably tamed, shirt unwrinkled, expression hopefully not revealing the swarm of butterflies currently performing aerial maneuvers in my stomach—and I grab the bottle of wine I spent entirely too long selecting.

She's waiting in the car, looking effortlessly beautiful in a simple dress that manages to be both family-appropriate and distractingly flattering. Her smile when I slide into the passenger seat calms some of my nerves.

"You look like you're heading to your own execution," she observes, leaning over to kiss my cheek. "Relax. They don't actually bite."

"Your father might." I fasten my seatbelt as she pulls into traffic. "The last time I saw him, we were happily engaged as far as he knew. Now we're…what exactly? What have you told them?"

She navigates through an intersection before answering. "That we had some issues, took some time apart, and are now dating again—for real this time."

"And the fake relationship part? The contract?"

"I told them the truth—well, a version of it." She glances at me briefly. "That what started as a business arrangement developed into real feelings, but we hit a rough patch, and now we're building something authentic."

"You left out the bet," I guess, relieved when she nods.

"That's our business, not theirs." Her hand finds mine briefly before returning to the steering wheel. "Don't worry, Jess is firmly on Team Max. She's been singing your praises since the bar incident with Sophie."

"And your parents?"

Her slight hesitation speaks volumes. "They're…cautiously optimistic. They saw how hurt I was after we separated, so they're protective. But they trust my judgment."

"Mostly," I add, recognizing the careful phrasing.

"They just need to see us together, see how happy you make me. It'll be fine."

Her reassurance would be more convincing if she wasn't gripping the steering wheel like she's preparing for sudden evasive maneuvers. Still, the knowledge that she's defended our relationship to her family warms me. This isn't just about me proving myself to the Carters—it's about us presenting a united front.

The familiar Park Slope brownstone comes into view too quickly, stately and intimidating in the evening light. As we approach the front steps, I reach for Lena's hand, finding comfort in her solid presence beside me.

"Together?" I ask, echoing the word that's become something of a touchstone for us.

"Together," she confirms, squeezing my fingers before ringing the doorbell.

Diana Carter opens the door, her smile polite but reserved as she takes in our joined hands. "Lena, darling." She embraces her daughter before turning to me. "Max. Welcome back."

The subtle emphasis on "back" isn't lost on me. I hand her the wine with what I hope is a winning smile. "Thank you for having me, Diana. I hope cabernet still works with dinner?"

"Perfect choice," she approves, though whether she means the wine or my recollection of her preference is unclear. "Come in, everyone's already here."

The living room feels more crowded than last time—not just Robert in his armchair and Jess with her fiancé Brian, but also an older couple I don't recognize and a teenage boy hunched over his phone in the corner.

"My sister and her husband," Diana explains, following my gaze. "And their son, Tyler. We're celebrating my sister's birthday."

Great. More people to witness my potential humiliation.

Jess spots us and immediately bounds over, embracing Lena before surprising me with a hug. "You guys look great together," she declares, loud enough for the entire room to hear. "Much happier than at that awful brunch when you were fighting."

I wince at the reminder of the disastrous brunch where I nearly exposed our arrangement, but Lena just laughs. "Subtle, Jess. Very subtle."

"Subtlety is overrated," her cousin replies with a wink. "Oh, and fair warning—we're doing game night after dinner. Dad insisted."

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