Have you ever experienced a moment where you felt an unmistakable sense of impending regret, yet chose to silence that gnawing instinct in your gut? Well, that’s precisely what I’m feeling right now—an alarm bell ringing in my mind while I carelessly ignore it. Instead of heeding the voice warning me that this decision is a one-way ticket to disaster, I toss caution to the wind like it’s confetti at a parade.
…
“You’ll really do it?” Archer asks, his disbelief evident as if he hadn’t just heard me say the same thing moments ago.
“Yes! I just said I would.”
“You’re the best, Walker!” he exclaims, his excitement palpable. “Lauren’s going to be so jealous she’ll be begging to get back together.”
“Happy to help,” I reply, forcing a smile. Did I just agree to help the guy I’ve been in love with since high school win back his ex-girlfriend by pretending to date him?
“She’s always had a nasty streak of jealousy. She’ll hate seeing me with someone else, especially you.”
“Especially me?” I raise an eyebrow, puzzled.
“She never liked that we were friends,” he says awkwardly. Friends. That’s one way to put it. Another would be that I was head-over-heels, idiotically, and painstakingly in one-sided love with him. Archer was painfully oblivious to my feelings.
In high school, I was a sophomore and he was a senior, running in the same social circle as my older sister. To him, I was just another buddy—a pal to play video games with and binge-watch movies when he needed company. We shared goofy moments over snack-fueled gaming marathons at my house when my sister would have her friends over. Still, even in those lighthearted exchanges, I was the silent spectator, laughing along while hiding my true feelings beneath a facade of friendship. He never looked at me the way that I looked at him.
Now, we both work at LevelUp Labs, a cutting-edge video game development company dedicated to creating immersive and innovative gaming experiences. Archer is a game designer at the company, and I’m a narrative designer. Did I strategically apply here just to be close to him? Absolutely. I leaped at the opportunity to see him every day, hoping that maybe, just maybe, things could change.
My dream was to be a fantasy writer, and while this wasn’t exactly my ideal job, it brought me tantalizingly close. I was immersed in developing storylines, crafting character arcs, and fine-tuning dialogue. It may not have been the fairy tale I envisioned, but it was a realm where my imagination could roam free, even if it was littered with the remnants of my unrequited love.
Plus, I got to see the main male lead of my romance fantasy daily—definitely a double-edged sword. Watching his lust story with Lauren unfold was like taking a needle to my eyes, a heinous reminder of the chasm between us. But a week ago, that drama came to an end. Suddenly, there was hope on the horizon for me.
“She’s going to be at your sister’s gallery opening tonight,” Archer’s voice pulls me from my thoughts.
“And?”
“We should go…together.”
I internally cringe at the thought. I despised my sister’s choice of friends; every cheerleader from Hatton High would be parading around, and I couldn’t think of anything worse.
“I don’t know. I wasn’t really planning on going.”
“You said you’d help me,” he counters, those pleading eyes of his practically doing a slow-motion puppy-dog thing. I let out a dramatic sigh.
“Fine. We can go together,” I concede, knowing full well that this is going to be the highlight of my misery.
“Just… don’t wear that,” he hesitates, gesturing awkwardly at my comfy sweats. “Try to find something a little less—”
“Me?” I interject skeptically.
“No, that’s not what I’m saying,” he shifts uncomfortably. “I’m just saying you could dress up a little.”
I cross my arms, shaking my head in mock disbelief. “You mean like Lauren? Sorry, but I don’t own a dress short enough to double as a gynecological exam gown.”
Archer laughs, clearly trying to suppress a mental image. “Dear God, no. That’s not what I meant! Just… put in a bit of effort tonight. That’s all I’m saying.”
“Fine,” I roll my eyes, taking a triumphant bite of my sandwich. “But you know this means I’m officially taking one for the team.”
“Thanks, Walker,” he says, flashing that infuriatingly charming smile.
“You so owe me for this,” I reply, smirking as I finish the last bite of my sandwich.
“A debt I will happily repay,” he grins, and I can’t help but wonder what exactly he has in mind.
As I wrapped up my workday, I couldn’t shake the growing knot of nerves in my stomach. I had reluctantly agreed to go with Archer, but the thought of facing Lauren and the cheerleading brigade was about as appealing as a root canal. I sighed dramatically, glancing at the clock. A few hours to get ready felt like both an eternity and a cosmic joke.
“Alright,” I mutter to myself, standing up from my desk and brushing crumbs off my sweatpants like a fashionista on a mission. “Time to turn this disaster into something presentable. Let’s see if we can’t distract everyone from the fact that I’m a complete social train wreck.”
At home, where the unforgiving overhead light in my bathroom reveals the aftermath of a day spent in the creative chaos of LevelUp Labs. After a few splashes of cold water, I begin rummaging through my closet, my mind racing with Archer’s casual suggestion to “dress up a little.”
I pulled out a couple of options—dresses that were either too fancy for a gallery opening or so casual they could double as sleepwear. Why was it so hard to find something that said, “I’m fun and beautiful,” but also “I’m your worst nightmare”?
After a few agonizing minutes of indecision that felt like a dramatic scene from a rom-com, I finally settled on a fitted black dress that fell just above my knees. It was daring enough to distract from my social awkwardness and perhaps even elicit a doubletake from Archer.
As I slip it on, I catch my reflection in the mirror, and for a fleeting moment, I think, Wow, I look almost human. “Let’s see if you can actually pull this off,” I whisper to myself, giving my hair a quick brush like a seasoned professional getting ready for a big date. Loose waves, check. A touch of makeup to accentuate my features—because God knows I need all the help I can get—check. I was starting to resemble the confident persona I desperately wanted to embody.
Yet, as I apply my lipstick, the thought of seeing Archer makes my heart race uncontrollably. Will he notice the effort? Will Lauren’s head explode from jealousy? The excitement and dread twist together, leaving me feeling oddly exhilarated like I’m about to step into the gladiatorial arena of social events.
With a final glance at the clock, I grab my purse and take a deep breath. It’s time to face the night and, with it, the possibility of changing everything—or, at the very least, making it a night to remember.
Inside the gallery, the crowd’s chatter is a buzz with excitement—mostly the kind that comes from cheerleaders who seem to think the mere act of showing up is enough to elevate the art. I take a deep breath, mentally steeling myself to plunge into this sea of hair spray and overzealous enthusiasm.
“Ruby? Ruby Walker, is that you?” A high-pitched voice pierces through the noise, and I turn to see Camille Leigh, my sister’s best friend from high school, making her way through the crowd like she was Moses parting the Red Sea. “Oh my God! What are you doing here?” she exclaims, wrapping me in a hug that feels more like a bear trap.
“It’s Reina’s gallery opening,” I say, wondering if I should’ve worn a sign. “And she’s my sister…” I glance at her, searching for any sign of cognitive function behind those blue eyes.
“Oh, duh,” she replies, as if enlightenment just struck her. “You look good, girl,” she begins, leaning in conspiratorially. “Did you get work done?”
I sigh dramatically. “No, Camille, I didn’t have any work done, but thanks for the backhanded compliment.”
“Wow,” her eyes grow big. “Don’t look now, but Archer Lane just walked in, and he is looking damn fine.” My heart pounds in my chest. “Oh my God, he’s coming over here!” She slaps her hand across my arm.
“Walker?” his familiar warm voice rolls over me from behind, and I turn to face him.
“Hey,” I reply, trying not to sound like a stammering idiot. He looks good—better than good. His usual messy dark brown hair is styled like he just walked off a magazine cover, and he’s swapped his signature jeans-and-t-shirt combo for dress pants and a button-down shirt. I’m not the only one who put in effort for the night.
“You look stunning,” he smiles as he leans in and kisses me on the cheek, sending my body into shock and making me wish I could freeze time.
“Did I miss something?” Camille interjects, her expression morphing into confusion. “Are you two like…dating?” Before I can muster a coherent response, Archer chimes in.
“We are. If you don’t mind, I’d like to take my girlfriend and say hi to our host.” Camille’s face contorts into a mask of disgust, her eyes blazing with bewildered jealousy.
“Whatever,” she huffs, stomping away like a child who just had their candy taken.
“I hope Lauren reacts as strongly as she did,” he jokes, clearly enjoying the chaos.
“Next time, can you give me a heads-up?” I blurt out, wishing I could retract the words before they leave my mouth.
“What?” He looks at me, confused.
“Next time you’re going to kiss me, can you warn a girl?”
Archer laughs. “Sorry about that.”
“It’s fine,” I say a little too quickly. But it was far from fine. It was euphoric, a rush of emotions swirling within me. I had never imagined I’d feel his lips so close to mine, a tantalizing proximity that sent waves of thrill coursing through me, stoking the flames of hope within me.
“Let’s go say hi to Reina quick,” he suggests, and I nod, my pulse quickening at his hand on my lower back.
“Ruby!” Reina squeals loudly as she claps her hands together. “I didn’t know you were coming.”
“Well, here I am,” I say.
“And Archer, thanks for coming. It’s been a while.”
“Glad we could make it,” he smiles.
Reina shifts back on her foot. “Wait. Did you two come together?”
“Sorry I didn’t tell you about us,” Archer offers.
“Oh my God! Rubes, you’ve had a crush on him since like the 10th grade!” she exclaims, sending me into oblivion and making me wish I could crawl into a hole somewhere to die. “And now you’re finally dating him? Congrats!”
Archer’s head snaps towards me, concern filling his eyes.
“That was a long time ago,” I whisper to him. “Don’t worry about it.”
“Reina,” Lauren’s voice cuts through the conversation. “Your photos are fantastic, girl! Seriously.” Standing behind us is Lauren, in one of her signature mini-dresses, locking arms with a large, stoic, dark-haired man. He looked about 15 years her senior, might I add.
“Lauren! Thank you so much for coming!”
“Charles and I wouldn’t have missed it,” she replies, clutching onto the man’s arm.
“Lauren,” Archer turns to her. “You remember Walker.”
Lauren rolls her eyes. “Yeah, hi.”
“She’s my date,” he says arrogantly.
“What?” Lauren says, baffled. “She’s your date?”
“My sister has had a crush on him since the 10th grade. Isn’t it so cute you could just puke?” Reina chimes in.
Lauren narrows her eyes, smirking as she looks me up and down. “Interesting, I thought you were just friends,” she says before strutting away.
“I’ll be right back,” Archer whispers to me before following after her.
“Uh oh, Rubes, that’s not a good sign,” Reina cautions. “It doesn’t look like he’s quite over her just yet.”
Of course, he’s following after her. She’s the undisputed star of this melodrama, the spotlight magnet, the girl who never has to chase anyone. And me? I’m the forever supporting character—the quiet, reliable background presence in someone else’s love story and the girl without the happy ending.
“Are you going after him?” Reina’s voice is steady, but there’s a protective edge to it.
I shake my head. “No.”
“Well, good,” she says, folding her arms with a satisfied smile. “Stay here with me, then.”
Thank God for Reina. I wasn’t exactly thrilled at the idea of standing here alone, staring after my date while he chased his ex. I give her a grateful look. “Thanks, Reina.”
“Hey, that’s what sisters are for,” she replies, linking her arm with mine. “Now, I want your opinion on my photos. No holding back, okay?”
I didn’t have the chance to look at her photos yet, so I took a deep breath and started weaving through the gallery, one photo after the next. Each image was alive with the faces, places, and moments from her travels around the world. There was something raw and genuine in how she captured the photos—like I was getting to see her adventure through her eyes.
“These are… amazing, Reina,” I say quietly, feeling a new respect for her.
Her face lights up, and she nudges me. “I knew you’d like them!”
“Hey,” Archer interrupts us. “Sorry about that.”
“You really ditched your date to chase after another woman?” Reina raises an eyebrow, arms crossed. “I don’t know, Archer. This might be a friendship dealbreaker.” She gives him a teasing smile, but her tone is sharp.
“I know. I’m the worst,” he says with a sigh, rubbing the back of his neck. Then he steps closer, eyes flicking to me. “Can we talk?”
“Um, yeah,” I stammer, glancing toward Reina.
She gives me a reassuring smile. “Go on. I’ve got an army of admirers to keep entertained.” She winks before slipping into the crowd.
As soon as she’s gone, Archer’s face lights up. “It’s working! Lauren’s pissed.”
I give him a flat look. “That’s great.”
He doesn’t notice my tone, too focused on his plan. “She’s only cozying up to that fossil to get a rise out of me. She wants me back. I can tell.”
“Congratulations,” I say dryly. “Guess we won’t have to keep up the act much longer, then. Bet you’re relieved.”
He nudges my arm, grinning. “It hasn’t been that bad.”
Lauren and her…date reappear, draping themselves over each other in full view. Archer’s eyes narrow, a flash of jealousy unmistakably gripping his face.
“Wow, yeah. She’s practically throwing herself at you,” I mutter, unable to keep the sarcasm from slipping out.
His jaw clenches. “She’s not fooling anyone.”
“Sure, just everyone in this gallery. And you,” I say, folding my arms.
He takes a quick step toward me, his eyes fierce. “Two can play that game.” He grips my shoulders, pulling me in close, and his voice softens to a whisper. “Here’s your warning.” Suddenly, his lips find mine in a heated, defiant kiss, his frustration melting into something almost desperate. His hand moves to the back of my neck, holding me close as his other arm slides around my waist. There’s no part of me that wants to resist; I’d dreamed of this moment too many times, and no amount of pride could keep me from feeling every second of it.
My fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him even closer, his lips meeting mine with a passion that sends a rush through me that I know I’ll never forget.
But then it hits me—this isn’t real. Not for him. I’m just his pawn in a game to win back someone else. The realization is a slap, cutting through the haze of our perfect kiss. I push back, leaving us both breathless.
“Don’t ever do that again,” I whisper, my voice trembling. He stares at me, looking both dazed and stunned.
“Ruby,” he says softly, causing my heart to skip at the sound of my name.
“Don’t,” I say as I put my hand out to halt him from coming closer. “Just…please, don’t.”
I swipe my hand over my mouth, swallowing the hollow ache as I walk out of the gallery. This was no longer just a mistake—it was a slow unraveling. A wildfire had sparked inside me, and if I didn’t walk away now, Archer Lane would leave nothing of me behind but ashes.
