I swear to God.

If Dylan’s hand accidentally grazes my thigh under the table one more time.

I’m going to stab him with my fork.

And throw him out the window.

I’m not sure how to do it from the top of this fucking tower but I will find a way.

Hurry, Hayden.

I sent out that S.O.S. almost thirty minutes ago. Maybe I’m being a touch too impatient against Saturday night Las Vegas traffic. Los Angeles can’t possibly be any better—

Did he just fucking touch me again?

“It’s so nice to have all the family in a place like this,” my mother says across the circular table as she slices into her steak. “Really makes you appreciate the loyal people in your lives. The person sitting next to you might just be there for you for the rest of your life. Isn’t that right, Penelope?”

I squeeze the handle on my salad fork and ignore the obvious prompt to gaze lovingly at Dylan. “Yeah, sure,” I say.

She smiles wide and looks down at my plate. “Not hungry, dear?” she asks. “You should really try the filet. It’s amazing.”

I exhale. “Except that it’s meat, Mom.”

Her head tilts in confusion.

“I don’t eat meat,” I say.

Dylan raises his wineglass. “Well, I do!” he says. “Cheers, Mary Lou.”

She chortles and sloppily reaches for her own glass to toast him.

My father looks up from his plate and wipes his mouth on his cloth napkin. “Where’s Hayden tonight?” he asks me, drawing the immediate ire of my mother’s eyes.

God bless you, father.

“Actually…” I sit up a little taller, “he’s on his way here now.”

“Oh, yeah?” He leans forward in interest.

Dylan stabs his filet, his fork scratching the plate beneath it.

“Yes,” I answer. “He was busy earlier today but he wanted to make an appearance tonight.”

“Good man that Hayden!” he says to the table. “I saw his father speak once. Very smart!”

I smile, strangely feeling a bit of pride in my father’s approval. It’s not all that common I get to hear my parents praise any of my decisions out loud — let alone brag about them to extended family members.

Dylan suddenly hoists himself out of his chair. “I’m sorry, Mr. and Mrs. Warren.” He exhales a dramatic pause. “I don’t mean to make a scene at dinner but I care about your daughter too much to sit on this any longer.”

I stiffen with nerves.

Oh, God. What’s he doing now?

Dylan reaches into his pocket and withdraws his phone. “Penelope,” he says, looking at me, “I think it’s time you knew the truth about Hayden.”

I blink. The truth?

“After you announced your relationship, I did a little digging,” he says. “I was worried about you and a man of his reputation is…”

He purposefully stalls.

“Reputation?” my mother asks, clenching her nonexistent pearls as she takes the bait. “What reputation?”

“Dylan…” I keep my voice steady. “You don’t have to—”

“The Warren name is a respectable name,” he says over me. “And to see it sullied by a man like this…”

He hands my mother his phone and she gasps.

“My Lord…” she says. “What is this?”

“That’s Hayden’s Instagram account, ma’am,” he answers.

I fix my eyes to keep them from rolling. “Mom—”

She looks at me in disgust. “Did you know about this?”

“Did I know that he likes to post gym selfies? Yes. He’s proud of his body.”

“But what about…” she lowers her voice, “the women?” She peeks at the phone again and shudders. “How old are these girls?” she asks Dylan.

I sigh. “Mom—”

“Hard to say,” Dylan says, looking solemn. “But honestly… these are just the ones he posts about publicly. There are surely others and…” He pauses once again. “I’ve taken the liberty of asking the hotel staff and Hayden… He’s been seen with certain housekeepers…”

“Dylan,” I spit with annoyance.

“Within the last month.”

My mother gasps again. Even my father shifts backward in his chair, his mouth sagging in shock.

Okay. So, this is Dylan’s master plan. He’s obviously figured out that Hayden and I aren’t actually dating. Instead of throwing me under the bus, he’s using that as leverage in order to make me go along with getting my family to turn on Hayden for being a horrible, cheating philanderer… while he comes out looking like a damned hero.

“Penny!”

I feel a warm hand on my shoulder. I glance up, equally ecstatic to see him as much as I curse his timing.

Hayden smiles at me and leans down to peck my forehead. “Sorry I’m a little late,” he says to the table. “Saturday night traffic just isn’t going to get any better, is it?”

He chuckles while they all silently stare at him with cold, angry eyes.

“Is everything okay?” he asks, his gaze bouncing from one face to the next.

My parents look at me with caution, fully expecting me to show some kind of reaction to the news I just received. They think I just found out that my boyfriend of twelve weeks and four days has been cheating on me with housekeepers. I should react.

Fuck. I have to react, don’t I?

I slowly stand up and grab my water glass with a shaking hand. Hayden looks at me as I turn in his direction, looking no less confused about this but I’ll explain it all to him later and hope he forgives me for what I’m about to do.

I make my bottom lip quiver. “You bastard!” I say.

I throw the drink in his face. The room audibly gasps and the air settles into an eerie, murmuring silence.

Water slides down Hayden’s chiseled face, from his forehead to his shoulders as he jolts back in response.

“Um…” he says, licking his lips. “So, Penny…”

I twist around and bolt from the table, curling around the tables toward the exit.

“Penny, wait!”

Good. Yes. Follow me, Hayden. Come on…

I forcibly glance over my shoulder to confirm it and he trails a few long strides behind me. “Don’t you touch me, you… you… creep!”

I step through the glass entryway door as Hayden’s hand grazes my elbow.

“Penny, what the hell is going on?” he asks.

I come to a stop outside the door, staying in full view of my family’s concerned eyes across the restaurant but they can’t hear us through the glass.

I throw on an angry face and shake off his grip. “I am so sorry,” I growl. “Are you okay? I really didn’t want to do that.”

Hayden blinks. “So, why did you?”

“Because Dylan just exposed you as an alleged cheater to my parents.” I point a stiff finger at his face. “So, now, I have to pretend to be breaking up with you right now.”

He takes one look at my family through the glass door and gets it. “Wow, that Dylan guy’s a real dick,” he says, his face turning solemn.

“You bet your ass he is.”

Hayden gestures at me in feigned annoyance. “So, what do we do now?”

I stomp my foot. “I don’t know.” I ball my fists. “I can probably whip up a few tears to really sell this thing but then you gotta go.”

“Come with me,” he says, hanging his head in deep regret.

“I can’t.” I dig deep, scrounging up any tears I can find. “It’d look suspicious if I didn’t go back in.”

He grits his teeth. “Okay, you go back in, I’ll leave, but you meet me at the concert tonight.”

My jaw drops to show some other shocking revelation. “You’re going to the concert tonight?”

“I was gonna surprise you,” he gestures me up and down in a show of dissatisfaction, “but my brother is getting us backstage to meet the band.”

I hang my head in my hands as the tears roll freely. “That is so fucking cool,” I say.

“Ah, hell.” He cringes for real. “Please don’t really cry. You’re making me feel bad right now.”

“You’re so sweet.” I wipe a cheek and point defiantly toward the exit. “Now, get out of here… you creep.”

He keeps a firm face but his eyes smile as he takes several steps backward. “This is why I like you, Penelope Warren,” he says before spinning around and shoving the exit door wide open.

I hang my head again, lingering in place on purpose, while my tears dry and my smile curls.

Okay, this might be going a little too far now but my morning buzz has fully returned with a vengeance as an evening sizzle.

He likes me?

“Penelope?”

I look up and wipe my cheeks. “Oh. Hey, Mom.”

She steps through the glass door and sighs. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine.” I sniff the tears away. “I’m just… not feeling very hungry right now.”

Her arms open and I step into them to accept her motherly embrace.

“I’m sorry, honey,” she says as she rubs my back.

I take a deep breath. “Thanks. I’ll be okay, really.”

She leans back and rubs my shoulders. “I know you will,” she says, smiling as she boops my nose. “Because there’s another man inside waiting for a chance to put a smile on your face again.”

I bite down. Hard.

Okay. So, let’s unpack this.

My mother just witnessed my very public break-up. Sure, not real. But she doesn’t know that.

And her first thought is to thrust me into the arms of Dylan McCoy?

“Mom…” I take a step back. “I don’t think this is the best time to—”

She latches around my arm and takes me with her back into the restaurant. “I think it’s about time you gave him a chance once and for all. Wouldn’t you agree?”

My voice cracks. “I don’t—”

“Loyal, trustworthy men are hard to come by in this world. I’m glad you’re finally starting to see things my way.”

“But I’m not—”

She puts pressure on my shoulders and sits me down in my chair again.

Right next to Dylan fucking McCoy.

Rebellion stirs in my chest.

Suddenly, I can’t fucking wait for this concert tonight.