I’d woken up an hour before Mason to an email alert on my phone. I’d known that it was going to be something terrible before I even checked—nothing good came in that early in the morning, the day after Christmas.

I’d slowly slipped my arm away from Mason, reaching over to check it. And sure enough, it was two emails from my landlord, with all the words written in bold, capital letters.

I NEED ALL MY MONEY, KADE THOMPSON. NOT PART. ALL.

He went on to explain that apparently the rent money I’d sent him had been incomplete—he needed an extra thirty-five dollars for a “late fee,” which he hadn’t informed me about until now. But he was angry, and in his second email, he’d let me know that he was going to inform his lawyer about this.

The whole world seemed to come tumbling down around me as I read the emails.

Of course this would happen to you, Kade.

Here I was, galavanting around with a client, pretending to be his boyfriend all weekend instead of working, like I should have been. I should have been doing whatever I could do to advertise and promote my services, attending meetup events, anything but this.

But I’d been sleeping with a client instead, something I once swore that I would never do.

I looked back at Mason, still peacefully asleep in bed, and my heart squeezed in my chest.

I was going to hurt him. Inevitably. Because the truth was that even though having sex with Mason last night was one of the better things I’d ever felt in my life—even though I loved every minute of it, and I wanted to do it again, wanted to fuck him senseless every night if he wanted it, too—even if all those things were true, I wasn’t the type of guy to do relationships. And Mason Hartley very much was. There was no good outcome to this situation, and I was screwed, no matter what happened.

The only solution would have been to never have sex with him in the first place. Mason was out of my league, anyway. Had a better family, a better apartment, a steady job, and a good life.

I was just a self-employed confidence coach who couldn’t afford to keep the lights on.

And regardless of any compatibility differences, I shouldn’t have been sleeping with a goddamned client to begin with. If I closed myself off to Mason now, he’d likely drop me as a coach. And then I would be back to square one, back to having zero clients, again, for another consecutive month.

And then the only financially sound remaining option would be to go back to working at the woodshop, for my horrifically homophobic former boss.

After the spiral of negative thoughts swirled over and over again in my head as I lay in bed, I couldn’t stand it. I got up and took a shower, turning the water as hot as it would go. Something about the shower always cleared my head, and this one was no different.

I found my answer as I let the hot water wash over me.

I was a confidence coach. I was a confident person. And I wasn’t going to let these setbacks get in my way.

I needed to nip any lingering attraction between me and Mason in the bud. I needed to be business-only and provide an incredible service to him, just like he deserved as a paying client.

And I certainly couldn’t fucking sleep with him any longer. If Mason became attached, I would have to let him down, and both of us would be hurt.

If I could just control everything, it would all be okay.

Breakfast with Mason’s family was perfect—because of course it was. It hurt in a unique way to see how wonderful it felt being here, knowing that before long, Mason would have to tell them some made-up story about our breakup, inform them that they’d never be seeing me again.

It was for the better—Mason deserved a boyfriend who was stable, successful, and just as much of a sweetheart as he was. His family would realize that, one day, when he brought home his perfect match. But in the meantime, they’d wonder what went wrong.

We really had been fucking stupid to attempt this plan.

After waffles, french toast, eggs and bacon, it was time to pack up and head on home to Mistview. Mrs. Hartley told us to grab some plastic containers and take as many waffles and bacon as we wanted for the ride home.

As we were packing the food, a shout came from upstairs.

“Guys! Please! Come help!” Mr. Hartley’s voice came from his study. “Iggy is on the loose, and Shadow is going to kill him!”

“Oh, fuck,” Micah said, looking in terror at Jenny.

“Dad is going to lose his mind if Shadow eats Iggy,” Jenny said.

“The only thing your father loves more than that cat is that iguana,” Mrs. Hartley said.

“We’re coming!” Micah said, and the three of them darted upstairs to help locate the loose iguana.

I couldn’t help but smile at Mason, shaking my head. “I am really going to miss them,” I said, the smile leaving my face as I realized all over again that I’d never see them again.

“I miss them all the time,” he replied. “We’ll be okay, though. You still have one Hartley.”

“Hmm?” I asked, tossing another waffle in a large container.

He placed his hand on top of mine. “You’ve got me, dummy.”

I could practically feel a shield going up around me. I pulled my hand away, reaching over to grab some bacon.

“Okay, fine, be that way,” Mason said. “I don’t know where my sweet boyfriend from last night went,” he added, his voice playful. “The one who loooves me.”

“I’m not your boyfriend,” I snapped, looking over at him with eyes wide.

He leaned back a little, his eyes studying me. “Right—right, I… I know,” he said. “I was joking. Y’know, about last night.”

There was a loud thump from upstairs, and a few random shouts. I let out a long breath that I’d apparently been holding in. “I’m… sorry, Mason. I’m very stressed out.”

He nodded, leaning against the counter. “I get it. It’s been a big weekend. But you still seem a little off. You have all morning.”

I raised my eyebrows. “Yeah, well… when you hired me, I sure as hell never thought I’d end up doing this.”

Mason watched me, his face betraying no emotion. “Well,” he finally said, turning back to the food, “don’t worry, because before long, we’ll be home and we can just stop the whole act. Does that make you happy?”

“Yes,” I said, “I mean—no, not exactly, but it will be good to finally stop. This is acting, Mason, and it’s getting to be a little too much.”

“I didn’t know you hated it so much.”

“I don’t hate it, for God’s sake, Mason,” I said, my exasperation showing more than I’d have liked it too. “I’m just—I’m not your boyfriend. And as soon as we’re gone, this has to stop.”

“Of course,” he said, his voice cold. Jesus fuck, I knew I was hurting him. But there was also nothing else I could do. “Soon you won’t have to pretend anymore.”

I looked up and out the window, running my hands through my hair, and I stopped dead in my tracks when I saw Mr. Hartley, right there outside the window.

The huge, wide-open window.

Mrs. Hartley was right by his side, and she stood up, a small iguana in her hands, and looked inside at us.

“Mason… what?” she said, looking from me to him to me again. “Is this… what do you mean, you won’t have to pretend anymore?”

I wished that a big black hole would suddenly tear through the ground beneath me, swallow me whole, and erase me from existence. Mrs. Hartley looked as though she might cry, and Mr. Hartley’s face was pained.

I cleared my throat. “I—uh—I was just joking,” I said. “Hah. Mason and I—we saw you, out there, and thought we’d play a funny prank. April Fools, kind of. Except in December. It’s just a joke, Mrs. Hartley.”

“What?” she said, shaking her head slowly. “It’s not… it’s not funny at all, boys, I—”

“No,” Mason said, looking up and shaking his head. He placed both of his palms on his face, squeezing his temples, and when he finally let his hands drop, I’d never seen him look so upset. “It wasn’t a joke, Mom.”

“Mason…” I whispered.

“I’m tired of lying,” he said, glancing at me with icy eyes. “I’ve never been able to tell a lie in my life, and yet this weekend, it’s been coming to me like I’m a natural. And you know what, Kade? It is too much. And it needs to stop.”

“Jesus Christ,” Mrs. Hartley said, passing off the iguana to her husband and making her way inside. Mr. Hartley went upstairs without a word, but Mrs. Hartley stood right there in the kitchen, looking between us both.

“What exactly is going on?” she asked.

“He’s my confidence coach,” Mason said simply.

“What—what do you mean?”

“I hired him to help me gain more confidence, and when I was nervous about having no one to bring home for Christmas… we decided to have him pretend. Turned out that I wasn’t good enough to get my own boyfriend for Christmas.

Mrs. Hartley looked like she was about to break down in tears. I turned away, feeling like it wasn’t even my place to be inside this room right now.

“You didn’t have to do this, Mason,” I whispered, shaking my head.

“I did, actually,” he said. “I… I can’t be a liar, Kade. I guess that’s a hard limit for me.”

I pulled in a long breath, finally turning back to Mrs. Hartley. It wasn’t just pure sadness on her face now—some anger was slipping in, just as I expected.

“I’m so sorry,” I said. And I stepped away, back up to the bedroom. I grabbed my bags quickly, making my way back down. In the living room, I caught a snippet of what Mason and his mother were saying.

“But… how?” she asked. “Mason, it seemed so real.”

“I know it did,” he replied. “It felt real to me, too.”

I pushed out through the front door, feeling like I might explode if I didn’t get out of the house. I was so far away from home and basically in a small town in the middle of nowhere—I had no way to get home other than Mason driving me, and right now, I couldn’t even dream of looking at him.

I walked out to the sidewalk at the end of the driveway and sat down, the concrete icy cold under me. I pressed my temples, rubbing hard, feeling like the ground was spinning underneath me.

You fucked up. It isn’t the first time it’s happened, and it won’t be the last. Breathe.

I used every anti-anxiety tactic on myself that I’d been using on Mason and other clients for so long. But the ground still spun, and I still felt a pressure that I couldn’t identify.

This is for the better. You want this. Mason can’t get attached, and he just proved that he isn’t attached at all.

Why did it feel so bad to have Mason saying that this had all been fake? It was what I wanted—I didn’t want to really be in a relationship with him, for fuck’s sake. I didn’t want to be in a relationship with anyone, ever.

But it still felt like having a spike driven through me, and I knew it wasn’t just about the potential loss of a client. It was a bigger loss, like some small part of me had been removed without warning.

After time passed—maybe ten minutes, maybe thirty—Mason emerged from the house. He had his jacket on and his bags in his hands, but his family was nowhere to be seen.

Not exactly the warm goodbye I’d been expecting when we left this morning.

He approached me, and I stood up, shivering a little in the below-freezing temperatures.

“Everybody knows now,” he said, his eyes pointed toward the ground. “It’s over, Kade.”

I nodded once, and we said nothing else. A minute later we were in the car, and I slipped my headphones over my head and didn’t say another word. Mason seemed as happy as I was not to talk on the ride home, and he didn’t even make his obligatory stop during a ninety-minute car ride.

I watched the leafless trees fly by on the highway and wondered why I felt so empty.

I hadn’t even known Mason a couple months ago, and now it felt impossible that he was going to be out of my life so soon.

It wasn’t until the end of the car ride, when I was getting out of the car at the curb of my building that I was able to make eye contact with Mason. I was standing on the sidewalk, one bag in either hand, looking in Mason’s open window as he held the wheel.

And it was exactly as hard as I’d expected it to be. They were those same pure blue eyes as always, but there was something stormy in his gaze, like a golden retriever who’d been hurt for the first time.

“Do you still want to meet in two days for your next session?” I asked, trying to remain steady and confident despite every bone in my body feeling otherwise. I hadn’t wanted to ask the question at all.

“I don’t think we should,” Mason said, his expression unchanging.

And all at once, there it was: Mason confidently speaking his mind, like he’d done earlier today. Mason having the courage to be honest, not stuttering, not faltering at all.

I just never imagined that he’d be saying these things once he finally found his voice.

“I’m so sorry, Mason,” I said.

He shook his head, pulling in a breath and tightening his grip on the wheel. “You don’t have to apologize,” he said. “It isn’t… your fault. It just was never something real. And it never will be.”

It was supposed to be what I wanted to hear. I was supposed to be overjoyed that Mason wasn’t attached, that he hadn’t developed real feelings, that he didn’t secretly want me at all.

But it didn’t feel good at all. It obliterated me.

He watched me, waiting for some sort of reply, waiting for anything. But again, I couldn’t speak. Mason was the only person I’d ever been with who had reduced me to silence like this.

“If I’m wrong, you just have to tell me,” he said quietly, searching my face. “Tell me it isn’t true. Tell me you felt something too—that it wasn’t just pretend, and it’s all I’ll need, Kade.”

I swallowed hard, so many conflicting thoughts rushing to my brain at once.

Tell him. Tell him. Just fucking tell him.

Don’t breathe a goddamn word. You don’t belong with him. You’ll only disappoint him if you don’t hurt him first.

I was on shaky ground, and I couldn’t even walk. How did people do this? How was any sort of relationship even possible, with all the turmoil it caused? My mind ran through the inevitable story: even if I admitted to some feelings and I did become Mason’s boyfriend, he’d soon realize that I wasn’t his type. Soon find out about my horrific credit and terrible finances. Discover that my past was full of nothing but people throwing me away like trash and that it was the only reason for my fierce independence.

He’d discover that I wasn’t really good enough for him at all. I was a pretty face with some cool tattoos and a whole lot of bluster.

At my core, I was just empty. And Mason deserved someone who was so much more. Who wasn’t afraid at all of giving him every last thing he deserved.

So I said nothing. Mason watched me, his expression hardening with every passing second. And then finally, he looked off, nodding to himself, as if he’d expected this from me all along.

I stood alone on the sidewalk as I watched him slowly pull away. I didn’t know whether I wanted to scream or disappear, but I did neither one. Pedestrians walked past me on the sidewalk, but I couldn’t move for another few minutes. I stood in the same spot, just looking off into the distance where Mason had left. I had a jumble of emotions in me that went miles deep, and I didn’t know how to tease out a single one of them.

I didn’t do things like this. Yet it didn’t make it a single bit easier.

And when I went up to my place, all I found were various red papers taped to my door from my landlord and a cold, dark, empty apartment.