Page 50 of In the Frame

I lean back in my chair with my latte and sandwich in front of me.

Noah’s already looking terribly amused. “Tell me everything. Quit being so cryptic.”

I cough slightly, and my face warms as I think about being together with Florian and how incredible it was. “We have a fake arrangement, I told you before.”

“You two were looking very cozy together,” Noah says. His eyes dance with amusement. “I mean, if you keep doing events together, how is having a fake boyfriend any different from having a real boyfriend?”

“It’s different,” I tell him before he gets any ideas. “We’re far too different. I’m broke and fresh out of art school. He’s… a successful businessman.”

“I don’t know. I saw the way he looked at you, Matty.” Noah grins. “You can’t tell me he’s not into you.”

I focus on my latte instead of Noah, turning the paper cup between my hands. “I… don’t think so. Not really.”

“Not really?” he prompts, intrigued.

“He’s actually quite nice? That’s all. Like… he brought me a suit. And my suit. Which he’d borrowed that night I dumped all the drinks on him.”

Noah leans in slightly. “Tell me everything.”

“What else is there to say?” I dare glance up at him, having an internal debate about how much to tell Noah. He’s my closest friend, and if I can’t talk to him, who can I talk to?

“Matty… I can see it on your face there’s more to tell.”

I squirm, picking at a piece of lettuce poking out from my sandwich. “He… there was a mix-up. My suit was lost for a while. Then it was found. And… long story short, he personally delivered the suit to me. In Brighton, last minute. From… New York. Then he was meant to stick around at the wedding for a couple of hours because Johan couldn’t make it.”

“Wait. What?” Noah shakes his head, lost. He leans closer. “Break that down. Not about Jonah—I know that he wasn’t there. Everything else.”

I lift my head properly to look at him. Take a deep breath. Keep my shoulders down. As if this is a totally normal conversation about perfectly ordinary things. “Florian took a red-eye flight from New York—via London—to deliver my suit directly to me in Brighton on the morning of the wedding. It had been lost at a London dry cleaner, and when it was found, he wanted to make sure it got to where it needed to go. That’s all.”

“That’s all?” His voice climbs. He stares at me, incredulous. “Holy fuck, Matty.”

I sip my latte, trying to act calm. “Yeah.”

“Uhh, he’s really into you? That’s… off the charts.” Noah marvels at me. “Remember when I told you that you pulled? I wasn’t kidding.”

My face is on fire, and it shows no sign of ending, and the July heat isn’t helping.

“And it gets worse. I kissed him. When he showed up with the suit. Then,” I add hurriedly, “we went for breakfast and worked out more details of our arrangement. We agreed to two more events, not including the wedding. Because at that point, he wasn’t going to stay much longer in Brighton.”

“And you, being irresistible, he had no choice but to stay. And apparently shut the night down at the wedding, I hear. Of course he wants more.” Noah looks fascinated. “Then what happened?”

I don’t know how he knows that, but Noah probably has spies everywhere, gathering intel. “We were up all night. Walking around. Talking.”

“Matty… hate to break it to you, but this is sounding way less fake and a lot more like a man who can’t get enough of you.”

I wave him off. And look away again because there’s no way I can get into the details of what happened. But I don’t need to fear because Noah continues with his assessment, which is hitting too close.

“And then, judging by how red your face is, he went back with you to your hotel?”

I wish I could die on the spot. At last, I nod. “Yes.”

“And?”

“And… Florian’s very hot. Speaking in a fake boyfriend kind of way.”

He raps the table, and my gaze flickers back to him. “Earth to Matty. You don’t have sex with people you’re only fake into.”

“Who,” I try desperately, “said anything about sex? That’s all you.”