The Fake Mate

I know what he means, even if Priya doesn’t—but I can’t exactly tell Parker that Noah was simply playing his part when Priya is sitting right next to us.

“He’s probably just happy he doesn’t have to pretend anymore,” Priya ventures. “Must be nice to have an alpha who can’t keep his hands off you for a whole day.”

I make a face, quickly masking it as Parker meets my eyes with one cocked this is what I’m saying brow. I roll my eyes, looking away from him. It’s not like the kiss meant anything. He was only doing it for—

“And poor Liam,” Priya tuts. “He must be so crushed to find out you’re mated.”

My nose wrinkles. “Wait, what does Liam have to do with anything?”

“Jessica said he looked like a kicked puppy when he was telling her about the kiss.”

“Wait,” I cut in. “Liam told Jessica from Radiology? Why?”

“Mackenzie,” Priya says with a shake of her head. “You gotta know that dude has been half in love with you for like six months.”

“What?” I snort in disbelief. “No he hasn’t.”

“Actually, I’m pretty sure that’s true,” Parker adds. “I’ve seen the guy laugh at your jokes.”

I frown. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“They’re pretty terrible jokes,” Parker says matter-of-factly.

“Oh, fuck off,” I scoff.

“I can’t believe you didn’t know this,” Priya says. “Like, I’m pretty sure everyone from floors two to six knows about it. At least.”

I consider this, scanning back through my interactions with Liam and trying to find any validity to what they’re claiming. I mean, sure, I would consider us good friends, but I can’t think of anything to suggest he’s been quietly pining after me. I cringe, thinking about how awkward that kiss must have been for him. It had been so out of the blue, after all, given that Noah had practically dragged me away from Liam to reach me and right into his—

I pause with my hand suspended halfway between the table and my mouth, the straw in my drink dangling uselessly only inches from my mouth. Is it possible that Noah kissed me because Liam had been there? I mean, he’d seemed a little weird from the moment he happened upon the pair of us, but at the time I had just assumed he’d had a bad run-in and was annoyed he couldn’t give me the lowdown on it.

But that’s silly. Noah doesn’t have any reason to start getting all jealous and territorial. Especially not after one night of admittedly mind-blowing sex. Unless . . . Surely all of those stories about alpha behavior are bullshit, right? There’s no way that Noah would do a one-eighty after one night.

I shake my head, taking an aggressive slurp from my straw as Parker and Priya’s chatter fades back in from where I’d stopped listening.

“I think it’s really cute,” Priya is saying.

I look up at her. “What is?”

“Noah going all soft now that everyone knows you’re mated.”

The more juvenile part of my subconscious snorts; after last night, I’m pretty sure there isn’t anything soft about Noah.

“I think it’s weird,” Parker grumbles.

Priya rolls her eyes. “You’re just jealous. You need a cute boy and a massage, dude.”

“I have a cute boy,” Parker says smugly.

Priya’s eyebrows shoot up. “Oh my God, you guys have been holding out so much good gossip. Who is it? How cute are we talking?”

“Do you remember the instructor from that time you went with us to hot yoga?”

“Yeah,” Priya grimaces. “I will not be doing the sweaty yoga ever again, thank you very much. Instructor was definitely yummy though. Wait.” Her mouth drops open. “No. He’s gay?”

“Mhm.” Parker grins. “My massages are well taken care of for the foreseeable future.”

Priya hmphs. “You guys suck. My last date took me to a drive-in porn movie. In 3D! We sat there for forty-five minutes watching stuff splatter against the big screen.”

“Wait,” I say. “Why do I want to try that?”

Parker snorts. “You would.”

“Trust me,” Priya scoffs. “Count yourselves lucky to be off the market.”

Parker and I share another look, and I know that if Priya wasn’t sitting here with us, he’d probably be ranting at me again about the irrationality of my actions lately, but my mind is already delving back down into the spiral that is: Why did Noah kiss me earlier? Had it really been him simply adding another layer to our ruse, or had it been sparked by something else?

I don’t know what confuses me more: Noah’s possible reasons or the fact that I hadn’t even thought twice about it until now.

“I’ve got to run,” Priya tells us, throwing the wrapper for her sandwich onto her tray along with her napkin. “I’ve got an intubation in a half hour.” She points at us both, giving us a stern look. “I expect more hot goss when I see you two again. I’m now officially living vicariously through you.”

To his credit, Parker waits until she’s out of sight to start in on me. “He kissed you?”

“Don’t even start.”

“That didn’t strike you as odd?”

“I told you. He was just playing the part.”

Although, I’m even second-guessing that now. Not that Parker needs to know that.

“I’m just worried about you,” he says with a sigh. “I don’t want you catching feelings for some guy who’s going to jet off to Albuquerque in a few weeks and leave you high and dry.”

I shake my head, making an indignant sound. “That’s not going to happen.”

“Famous last words,” he mutters.

I roll my eyes, grateful when Parker becomes focused on his phone seconds later since it gives me a moment alone with my thoughts. I can see why my friend would be concerned, given that supposedly Noah and I being together is supposed to be some grand, destined thing—but outside of a spectacular night of sex, there’s absolutely nothing that has changed about our original arrangement. Kiss or no kiss. Reading too much into this is just going to give me an unnecessary headache. Best just to pack it away.

I pop the last bite of my flatbread in my mouth, staring at a blank spot on the cafeteria wall as an indeterminable number of seconds tick by. I reach to rub my neck as that same tightness sets off again, a prickling following after that I ignore as my mind wanders.

But why did he kiss me?



* * *





?I haven’t heard from Noah since the hallway incident earlier, and honestly, I’ve been a little hesitant to text him again. I’m blaming all of the muddled thoughts I’ve been wading through since viewing his actions from earlier in a different light. Still, I know I can’t avoid him forever, and I probably should clarify that we’re okay.

The hall where his office is located is decidedly empty this late in the afternoon, and part of me worries that I might have missed him. He would have at least let me know he was leaving, surely. Then again, why would he? Despite my assurances that nothing about our relationship—or rather, our fake relationship—would change after one night . . . For some reason little things like this are a bit blurry to me.

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