Page 44 of Make the Play

Zoe Carlson is fake dating me.

And I am so screwed.

But I think she might be, too.

Chapter ten

That’s art, Zoe. That’s poetry.

Zoe

As soon as I step inside Pulse, I don’t even attempt to go to my own office. Today, we’re having a contract discussion and signing for this fake dating nonsense. But it’s also the day Charlie is back from her domestic as fuck family vacation, and I haveneeds.

I barrel into my best friend’s office like I’m running from the FBI, slam the door shut, and press my back against it like it might hold back the sheer force of my absolute goddamn crisis.

Charlie, very pregnant and very unimpressed, pauses mid-sip with her sad decaf she clearly hates, and lifts a brow. For a split second, all I can see is a hospital room I barely remember. Mymom. My sister. All the things a pregnancy can take. I blink it away. Now is not the time.

“Should I be worried, or just entertained?”

I point a finger at her. “Before I sayanything, I need you to swear on your unborn child’s future that you will not tell Jake.”

She blinks. “Zoe.”

“Charlie, I’mserious.” I push off the door, pacing. “The man is a human megaphone.”

She makes a doubtful noise. “He can keep a secret.”

I snort. “He literally spoiled your gender reveal because he was too excited to keep it in for two hours.”

Her lips press together. “That was different.”

“Was it?”

There’s a long pause where Charlie seems to be running through every instance of Jake’s absolute inability to keep his mouth shut when it comes to anything remotely exciting. The man is a gossip whore, and by the way her expression shifts, I know the exact moment she realizes I’m right.

“Fine,” she mutters, setting her mug down and gesturing to a chair. “Sit. Spill.”

I drop into the chair like my bones have given up, and then I divulge everything.

The sex tape. The PR nightmare. The fake dating agreement. The godforsaken game of pool that somehow landed me in a situation I still don’t fully understand.

Charlie listens in silence, brows arching, lips twitching, looking way too entertained as I lay out the entire disaster. By the time I finish, her expression has morphed from neutral concern to pure delight, fingers pressed to her mouth like she’s physically holding in a laugh.

“I’m sorry, but you fake dating Chase Walton is the greatest thing to ever happen to me.”

My eyes narrow, and her grin widens.

“God, I cannot wait to tell—”

I lunge forward, gripping the desk. “CHARLIE!”

A laugh bursts out of her. “Okay! I won’t tell Jake. Even though, for the record, this is the kind of thing helivesfor.”

I groan, slumping back in the chair. “I already regret coming in here. Should’ve kept this to myself.”

“Oh, no, this is the best part of my morning,” she says, not even trying to hide how entertained she is. “This is better than coffee. Better than sex. You, a rational, independent, career-driven woman, just got hustled into a fake relationship byChase Waltonover a game of pool. That’s art, Zoe. That’s poetry.”

“I know it sounds insane.”

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