Page 31 of The #FakeBoyfriend Bet

"Is everything okay with you two?" Zara asks bluntly.

"Perfect," I say, draining my water glass. "Just navigating the learning curve."

"You seem upset," Sophia observes.

I shrug. "Just tired. Long night."

"Because of the rain?" Mia asks innocently.

"Something like that."

They exchange glances loaded with unspoken communication. I focus on my half-eaten breakfast, wishing I could disappear.

Lena returns, tucking her phone into her purse. "Sorry about that. Work emergency." She sits, smoothing her dress with practiced calm. "What did I miss?"

"Nothing important," Zara says. "Just getting to know Max better."

Lena's smile doesn't reach her eyes. "Wonderful. He's quite a character, isn't he?"

"Apparently," Sophia agrees, watching us both with newfound interest.

The remainder of brunch passes in excruciating politeness, the earlier warmth gone. I say little, offering one-word responses when directly addressed. Lena works overtime to compensate, her charm dialed up to maximum brightness, but I can see the strain around her eyes.

When the check arrives, I reach for it automatically, but Lena is faster.

"My treat," she says, sliding her card into the leather folder. "For dragging you out on a Sunday morning."

"How generous," I reply, the words more bitter than intended.

Her friends don't linger after paying, making excuses about appointments and deadlines. Their goodbyes are warm to Lena, polite but reserved to me. I wonder what they're thinking—if they caught the undercurrents, if they suspect the truth.

When they're gone, Lena turns to me, fury burning beneath her composed expression.

"What the hell was that?" she hisses, keeping her voice low.

"What was what?" I stand, suddenly needing to be anywhere but here. "Me playing my part?"

"You know exactly what I mean. The 'fake boyfriend' comment? Are you trying to blow everything up?"

"Would it matter if I did?" I challenge. "It's just business, right? Just content."

Her expression falters, something like hurt flashing in her eyes before she masks it. "We have an arrangement, Max. A contract."

"Right. The contract." I step back, hands raised in surrender. "My mistake for forgetting the terms and conditions last night."

She flinches. "That's not fair."

"None of this is fair, Lena." I run a hand through my hair, frustration boiling over. "You can't have it both ways. You can't climb into my bed, tell me I make you feel things no one else has, then sit here with your friends and act like I'm just a convenient prop in your social media strategy."

"I never said?—"

"You didn't have to." I grab my jacket from the back of the chair. "It was pretty clear when you snuck out this morning without so much as a goodbye."

Her cheeks flush. "I had work to deal with."

"So did I. It's called being honest about what the hell is happening between us."

We stare at each other, the air between us charged with everything we're not saying. Finally, I break first.

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