I should be smiling like the Cheshire cat that got the canary. But I’m not smiling. Hell, I’m not even happy about it. I’m indifferent. And I suddenly understand why. With Harley’s arms still enveloping me, his big hands splayed against the small of my back, and that damned scent of his that’s invaded its way into every one of my senses, I feel something I’ve been unprepared to feel up until this point. Nash’s jealousy means nothing to me, because I am wholeheartedly consumed by everything Harley, and I like it. It’s official—my dreaded suspicions are confirmed—I like Harley Shaw. I wish I could blame it on the alcohol, but this has nothing to do with how much I’ve had to drink. I’m in dangerous, confusing territory, and I have to get the hell out of here before I perish.

“I need to pee!” I yell, surprising not only myself but Harley, too. He pulls back just enough to gauge me with a wide-eyed look. “Sorry.” My nervous laughter sounds strangled and nothing like myself as I move out of his embrace. I step backward, stumbling over my own feet and knocking into a table. But I collect myself enough to flash him a wavering smile before turning and practically running to the bathroom.

I splash some cold water on my face, desperate for some clarity for my deeply conflicted mind. Resting my hands on the porcelain sink, I take the chance to collect myself, taking a few deep breaths in the hope it might sober me up enough to realize I need to get my shit together. Placing my glasses back on, I look up and catch sight of my reflection in the mirror, shaking my head at the girl staring back at me.

“Who are you?” I hiss, wiping at the mascara smudges beneath my eyes.

The old me would never have concocted such a devious plan as to fake a relationship with my best friend, to make my other best friend jealous. Yet, here I am, drunk on a Wednesday, losing myself in Harley’s penetrating, all-consuming gaze. This whole thing is getting way out of hand. I’m becoming a victim of my scheme, tangled within my own web of lies.

“Oh, hey, Murph.”

I watch Anna’s reflection walk behind me in the mirror with a sweet smile on her flawless face before she disappears into the stall. I groan inwardly because I am just not in the mood for her right at the moment.

“I’ve barely had a chance to talk to you all night!” she calls through the door while peeing, and it’s all very awkward, to be honest.

“Yeah, sorry.” I look down at my chipped nail polish. “I’ve been a little—”

“Oh my goodness!” she interrupts with a dramatic gasp. “I’m so sorry about last night. I don’t know what came over me. I passed out before I could even thank you for bringing me back to the suite.”

“It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.” I shake my head as guilt twists low in my belly.