“But I know you, and it’ll put your mind at ease to practice. Call Rhys. Do it now. Tell him about paintball, tell him about Pete, and arrange a date. You’re paying him a lot of money, Parker. He’s not going to say no.”

“He did mention the whole kissing thing.” I nodded, coming around to the idea. Relief began to move through me as I realized there was still hope. “He said we needed to get a little more affectionate with each other to sell this.”

“I bet he did,” Zoe muttered.

“Excuse me?”

“Nothing.” She beamed. “Go call him.”

Little butterflies sprang to life in my belly at the idea of contacting Rhys. It had seemed like ages since we’d talked, and I was a little unsettled by the rush of anticipation I felt as I hurried through the open-plan living space and down the hall to the privacy of my bedroom.

Out of fairness and really a lack of preference, I’d taken the smallest of the bedrooms. It was still a little bare and unlived in because I hadn’t had time to put my stamp on it yet.

Settling down onto my bed, those butterflies grew frantic. Heart racing, I hit Rhys’s name on my cell before I could talk myself out of it.

It was a Thursday evening, I realized. Maybe he was on a date.

The thought caused an unpleasant lurch in my stomach.

“I was beginning to think I was being ghosted,” Rhys answered without preamble.

A stupid smile curled my lips at the sound of his deep voice. “It appears I’m not very good at this fake relationship stuff.”

“Yeah, I’m getting that.”

Glad to hear amusement in his voice, I continued, “I need your help, Morgan.”

“Hit me.”

I explained about Pete and Evan’s gossiping.

“Fuck, don’t these guys have anything better to do?” he huffed.

My thoughts exactly. “Apparently not.”

“So, what do you need, Tinker Bell?”

“You and I are invited to a team-building paintball ball tournament next weekend. Are you available?”

“I’ll make myself available.”

“Great. But I think we need to practice before then.”

“Practice?”

“Go on a fake date together. Just you and I practice…being together. Try to create that illusion of intimacy.” I felt my cheeks burning but forced out, “Maybe share a practice kiss.”

There was silence on the other end of the line.

“Rhys?” Oh my goodness, had he changed his mind? Did he feel like I was trying to prostitute him? “Or not!” I hurried to say. “Whatever you’re comfortable with.”

A rumbly chuckle down the line created a tingling in my body I desperately ignored. “Dahlin’, I told you this shit at Fairchild’s yacht thing. When are you going to start listening to me? I’m very smart.”