I look both ways up and down the empty hallway. Running into Penelope’s mother right now would be more than a little awkward but, at the same time, it would sell our lie just a little bit more.

Though, is it really even a lie at this point?

Last night was... Fuck. I’m not even sure what last night even was.

But I’m dying to find out.

I walk down the hall toward the elevator and slap the call button. As I wait, I reach for my phone. There was a missed call from Graham when I checked it before but I’ll get back to him later. I tap into my messages instead, quickly saving Penelope’s information into my contacts.

“Have yourself a good night?”

I glance over my shoulder, partially startled by the deep voice out of nowhere.

Dylan stands behind me, his arms crossed tightly to make himself look big and tough, I gather.

I purposefully look down the hallway toward Penelope’s door and nod. “It was fantastic, actually,” I answer. “Thanks for asking.”

He doesn’t move. Just stares at me beneath his hard, crinkled brow with that same territorial sneer I’ve seen on him since the bar yesterday.

Man, Penelope was not kidding about this guy. Who knows what the hell is going on in his head but whatever it is, I don’t exactly like what I’ve seen so far.

Unfortunately, Penelope doesn’t seem like the confrontational sort so she’s not going to push back against him anytime soon.

Me, on the other hand...

“All right...” I clear my throat as I turn toward Dylan. “Listen, McCooly...”

“McCoy,” he corrects.

“Let me give you a friendly word of advice,” I say. “When a lady says no, repeatedly, over the course of ten years, give or take... she means no.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says, flexing his jaw.

“Then, allow me to dumb it down for you in a way your primitive, caveman brain will understand.” I take a step forward. “Back off Penelope, okay? She’s not interested.”

His eye twitches. “You entitled pricks.”

I cock my head. “Excuse me?”

“With your luxury hotels and yachts and flashy bullshit,” he murmurs with bile in his voice. “You think you’re so fucking cool, don’t you?”

I smirk. “Wouldn’t you?”

“But I’m onto you, Botsford.”

I sigh and turn to face the elevator. “Gosh, I can’t wait to hear where this is going.”

“Twelve weeks? Three days?” He pauses for some sort of effect. “That’s how long you say you and Pen have been together, right?”

“Twelve weeks, four days, and counting...”

“Then...” he sidles forward into my eyeline, “how is it that you were in New York that weekend for Opening Day while she was three thousand miles away at her dad’s birthday party?”

I feign a shiver. “Oh, gee, I dunno, McKyle. How about you let me know once you figure it out?”

“Oh, I’m fairly sure I’ve already got the two you all figured out,” he says. “Pen’s been dragging her little guy friends to these things since high school to wedge between us—”

“Sounds like one heck of a hint, bro.”

“But she only does it to make me jealous.”

I cringe. “Somehow, I doubt that very much.”

“I could never prove it before,” he says, “but she made a mistake this year tagging you in.”

I shrug. “I dunno, man. She really seemed to enjoy it.”

He ignores the quip but his brow pinches with anger. “That’s the thing about being rich and famous. Everything you do, everywhere you go, is on the internet somewhere and I think it’s really telling that neither of you has even mentioned each other in the time you claim you’ve been together. I think her parents ought to find that real interesting, too.”

“Glorious social media,” I muse. “I bet that makes it real easy for stalkers to keep tabs on girls who don’t want anything to do with them, but you wouldn’t know anything about that now, would you?”

“Pen and I were meant to be together,” he says, his voice sliding into some schoolboy desperation. “Someday, she’ll realize that and you’ll be nothing more than a distant mistake we joke about.”

I snort. “Dude...”

“Stay away from my girl, rich boy, or I’ll expose your little game.”

“Stop,” I say. “You’re embarrassing yourself.”

The elevator dings in arrival and the doors slide open.

I step on, purposefully blocking the entrance as I turn to face him. “You can take the next one,” I say as I tap 25.

Dylan digs his feet in and straightens his back, trying oh-so-hard to intimidate me while I flash a smile and hold it until the doors close on his face.

Nice try, Dickweed.

Penelope is mine.

I step off onto the 25th floor and take a hard left down the hall toward my room. I pause in front of my door to slide my keycard from my wallet. A door down the hall opens behind me, followed quickly by a deep, soft chuckle.

“Well, this seems about right.”

I glance back at Ira as he closes his door behind him. “What does?” I ask.

“I’m leaving to go to work and you’re coming in from a night out,” he says.

I laugh as I open my door and turn around to face him, sliding my foot into the frame to keep it propped open. “I wasn’t out. I was just... in another room.”

He leans his back against his door, getting comfortable. “So, you secured the invite to Ms. Warren’s room after all?”

“Yes, I did.”

He raises a brow. “But?”

“But what?”

“I sensed a but there.”

I shake my head. “No but. I spent the night with her.”

He shifts off the door. “Well, good for you.”

I exhale. “But...”

He stops and leans right back into the door. “But?”

“Okay, so...” I pause, thinking hard about how to express this. “I slept with her,” I say.

“Right.” He nods. “I figured.”

“No, like, really slept with her. We didn’t even have sex.”

Ira laughs a bit too hard. “So, you’re dragging around a pair of blue balls this morning, eh? Go fire one out and sleep it off. You’ll be fine.”

“No. That’s the thing, Ira. I feel fine. I feel... content and... satisfied, just in a different way.”

He tilts his head slowly. “Did you two stay up all night?”

“Yeah, almost.”

“Talk until the sunrise?”

“Yeah.”

“Leave sweet little kisses on each other’s cheeks? Fingers entwined?”

“Yeah!”

He sighs. “Gross.”

I nudge my door open with my rear. “You’re just jealous.”

“Nope,” he says. “Been there, done that. I’ll take meaningless sex over that any day.”

“Yeah, you say that now.”

“I’ve always said that.” He pauses. “You’ve always said that.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve changed my mind.” I pause as my phone vibrates in my pocket. I fish it out and read Graham’s name with a smile. “Oh, hey, a man who understands human emotion.”

Ira rolls his eyes and takes off down the hall.

I step into my room and swipe to answer my phone. “Hey, big brother,” I answer. “You called?”

“Yeah, sorry,” Graham says. “I’m still on Toronto time; forgot it was too early for you.”

I kick off my shoes. “No problem. How’s the old-new wife?”

“She’s...” he hesitates, “adjusting.”

“Uh-oh.” I laugh. “That doesn’t sound good.”

“No, it’s fine. We’re fine. Listen, do you want to tell me why my authorization code was used on a discount for a party of thirty last night?”

I wince. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Hayden.”

“Have you checked with the front desk?” I ask.

“Yeah,” he says. “Rian told me to ask you.”

I grimace. “Okay, yeah. I did it,” I say.

“Why?” Graham asks.

“My girlfriend’s family reunion is in town and I wanted to impress them.” I plop onto the chair at the writing desk. “It worked, by the way. Free money is definitely the way to go if you’re still looking to get in good with Jen’s parents. You know, after that whole eloping without telling them while they were just across the street thing...”

There’s a long pause.

“Graham?” I ask.

“Your what?”

“My girlfriend,” I repeat.

“You don’t have a girlfriend.”

“Yes, I do.”

“Since when?!”

“We’ve been seeing each other for twelve weeks and four days!” I say, testing the lie. “We’re in love.”

Graham scoffs. “Wow, that really falls apart when you say it out loud, doesn’t it?”

I sigh. That gossipy bitch. “Ira told you, huh?”

“Oh, yeah, he told me all about your little crush on your new fake girlfriend,” he says, chuckling.

“It’s not a crush...” I pause. “Actually, at this point, it might be...”

“That’s really adorable,” he says. “I’m proud of you.”

“Shut up.”

“Look, brother, I think it’s really nice you’re trying to help this woman out.”

“Thank you.”

“But leave my code out of it, will you?” he asks. “If Dad notices, he’ll flip.”

I blow a raspberry. “Please. I can handle Dad.”

“Hayden.”

“All right. I won’t use it again. I promise.”

“Thank you,” he says. “Now, go take a cold shower. Blue balls ain’t nothing to mess with.”

I hang up with a groan.

Dammit, Ira.