Tommy Aster was in the doorway.

Why was Tommy Aster in the doorway?

Tommy was popular, sure, but if I hadn't been invited to Jameson's shindigs for years because of my connection to him, there was no chance in hell that he'd copped an invite for tonight. If he had, I was going to kill Jameson. Slowly. Tommy shifted his weight from foot to foot as he scanned the ground, awkwardness like a shroud on his shoulders.

He looked the same as always, all rumpled brown curls, striking eyes, tanned skin. But he was also unfamiliar in a collection of small ways, gradual changes that I wouldn't have noticed when we were together, but that time had made obvious. His hair was longer, his jaw unshaven, a woven bracelet he hadn't owned two months ago tied around his wrist. When someone was your everyday, you didn't see those little things; couldn't pinpoint the moment that his hair curled around his ear, venturing from stylish to just-too-long. I relished in every single thing that made this Tommy Aster unknowable to me, every tiny change that separated us, that said I do not know you like I once did.

Recognition lit his eyes when he spotted me, even as his mouth twisted with distaste when he saw just whose arms I was wrapped in. Yeah, how do you like it, Tommy? Not very fun, is it? I didn't know why Tommy and Kai loathed each other so passionately—the one thing they had in common, other than an impeccable taste in women, was some unspoken agreement not to tell me—but I enjoyed the reaction the feud elicited in my ex-boyfriend. That was the point of this whole ruse, right? That look in Tommy's eye.

Jameson peeled himself away from where he'd been making out with Madeleine in the corner when he caught sight of Tommy over Madi's shoulder. Indignant horror widened his eyes. I saw his lips shape the words, "Yo, what the fuck?" and although that protest was lost in the crowd, when he cupped his hands around his mouth and booed loudly, it triggered a chorus of dissent from the partygoers, most of whom almost certainly had no idea what they were objecting to. And probably wouldn't love the answer, because Tommy was generally well-liked. It was essentially just Jamie and Kai who had a particular vendetta against him. And Sydney, who had never liked him. At least I didn't have to plot Jamie's death; clearly, Tommy Aster was not on the invite list.

Tommy didn't react to the chorus of protest. Instead, he wrangled his frown into a wry smile that he directed at me—smiling? At me? Fuck you, bro—and picked his way through the crowd to find us.

Jameson found us faster, standing almost protectively in front of our couch with his arms crossed. Tommy halted his approach when he saw the uncharacteristically authoritative glare on Jamie's face. "Your invite didn't get lost in the mail, by the way. You were pointedly excluded from the guest list."

"Yeah, I got that, Miller," Tommy snapped. This was the Tommy that Jamie and Kai were familiar with. Cold and angry. An asshole, through and through. If only I met this version of my ex-boyfriend two years earlier. Tommy's snippy side had only ever made an appearance for Sydney, but that wasn't the same as this. I mean, he most likely didn't want to fuck Jameson.

"Did you?" Jameson feigned surprise. "That's odd, because you still decided to show up. I think there's a phrase for showing up on private property without an invite. What do they call that, Seb?"

"I think they call it trespassing," Seb supplied.

Jamie's smile was saccharine. "Ah, yes. Trespassing."

Tommy held his hands up, palms toward Jameson. "Look, I'm not trying to start trouble—"

"Awesome, so you can leave now. I would love to go back to making out with my very hot French friend and forget the sight of your face."

"—but," Tommy cut back in, "I want to talk to Valerie."

Kai's arm tightened around me, as if the sound of my name on Tommy's lips rankled every one of his protective instincts. Kai was more of a lover than a fighter, but I knew that he would go to bat for me. Unfortunately, Tommy was more of a fighter than a lover, and he would go to bat for the sake of it. I rubbed a cautioning circle over Kai's clenched knuckles, a reminder, hey, I'm here with you.

Jameson was both a lover and a fighter, but never for more than a fleeting second. Verbal slander was far more Jamie's wheelhouse, and he wielded his silver tongue with a tranquil decisiveness. Jameson managed to somehow try very hard while making it look languid, and I could see Tommy's jaw work in response to the apathetic, vague smile touching Jameson's lips as he said, without any hint of heat, "Trespassing is a crime, you know. I could call the police. If you want to talk to Valerie, use your one phone call down at the station. Don't expect her to pick up, though. My girl has standards and they're, fortunately, a shit tonne higher than you."

Tommy scowled. "I'm not trespassing. You put on the invite that +1's are welcome, and then invited my best friend, dickhead."

"Maybe I just thought you would know how to take a fucking hint," Jamie muttered toward the ceiling. Then he turned to look at me, a question in his eyes. Want me to kick him out?

I was definitely not beating Jameson up. He deserved nothing other than a hug, a box of chocolates and my eternal friendship.

Tommy was staring me down with pleading eyes, a look that once would have simultaneously melted my heart and maybe also my underwear. Now, it just filled me with resignation.

"I'll talk to him," I said.

Tommy Aster was an asshole. He wasted my time, years of it, only to ruin it with the one person who had meant the most to me in the world. But he was harmless, really. A gnat that I was enjoying stamping out, one kiss with Kai Delaney at a time.

"Are you sure?" Kai asked, his hand on my arm a reassuring weight as I stood from the couch. He looked up at me with complete trust, searching my expression for any reservations but knowing intrinsically that I could handle Tommy Aster.

"Be my alibi if I commit a murder?"

"You know I would commit to any ruse for you," Kai replied, with a wink reserved just for me. And it was a sexy wink.

Yeah, Tommy. Can you wink that sexily? Well, Tommy actually couldn't wink, so the answer was no. Take that, bitch.

Jameson glared at Tommy. "You get whatever time Valerie is willing to talk to you, and then you leave."

Madeleine came up behind Jameson and rested her chin on his shoulder. They were almost the same height, not for any lack of trying on Jameson's part. Madi was just a veritable giant. She gazed up at him with obvious admiration, and something else I wasn't sure I wanted to see. God, is this how people feel around me and Kai? "This is very sexy," she told him. "Boss me around sometime?"

A deep anger passed over Jameson's face, directed solely at Tommy. "And you better feel very grateful that I didn't kill you for interrupting this."

Madi looked very self-satisfied at this proclamation. Interrupted sex, apparently, was the only thing that could inspire his ire. Jameson had begun staring at the ceiling, as if asking some deity why Tommy Aster had to ruin his fun.

"Yes, fine," said Tommy impatiently. "Go get laid. No one asked you to play bodyguard."

"Well, we all do like to get laid at parties, don't we?" Jamie's smile was antagonistic. Mocking. "Although at least my taste doesn't extend outside the girl I arrived with." Tommy's fists clenched, and Jamie tutted. "Ah, ah, Thomas. Feel free to get angry, but just know, your time in this house will only last however long it takes you to throw a punch. Oh, plus time for me to throw a few back."

Tommy's eyes glinted, and I grabbed his arm. "Come on, Tommy. Say your piece and leave, okay?"

"Fine," he spat.

Jameson gave him a pinky wave. He was the most annoying person on the planet, and I loved him so fucking much for it. Behind him, Kai's wave wasn't mocking. It was a goodbye and good luck. I held on to that, his support, and dragged Tommy out of the room. I couldn't talk to him with Kai watching. Kai was good and safe and I didn't want that tainted with this conversation.

Tommy led me through the maze of Jamie's house with enough deftness that I assumed he'd scouted the location before he came to find me. I followed him in stern silence. I wasn't going to make idle chit-chat, and apparently, he knew me well enough not to bother. Or maybe he was still seething and Jameson and Kai and didn't have the energy to ask me about my week. Either way, I was thankful. We passed through the kitchen, where Will had his arm around a stunning blonde girl and Isabelle was chatting up a Latino guy who was way hotter than Josh Logan, both of them offering the other encouraging wingman thumbs ups surreptitiously behind their target's backs. When Isabelle spotted me following Tommy, her mouth fell open and she slapped Will to point at us.

She was too drunk for subtlety. "He isn't going to murder you, is he?" she yelled across the kitchen. "Because if he does, I'll get Will to beat him up!"

Will rolled his eyes, but offered a nod of the head that suggested he would beat Tommy up if I was brutally murdered. Tommy grimaced.

"I'm fine, Izzy!" I mouthed back, and she gave me an encouraging smile at turned back to Mr. Hot-and-Sexy.

Tommy, seemingly annoyed by the obstacles he'd been forced to conquer just to have a conversation with me, grabbed my arm and dragged me through the final corridors, ignoring my half-hearted protests. Given the size of Jamie's house, I figured it wouldn't be hard to find an empty room, but the first three doors Tommy opened featured tangled sheets and even more tangled limbs. "Fucking hell," Tommy muttered. "This house is practically an orgy."

"Yes, you would think that people could control themselves and their dicks at a party, wouldn't you?"

Tommy didn't bother responding. Smart boy.

When he dragged me into a Miller-sized broom closet—a small bedroom in any reasonable house—I was relieved to find it empty. As much as I'd enjoyed Tommy's growing frustration, I was keen to spend as little time in his company as possible. The room was lit only by a small lamp, illuminating the characteristically minimalistic space, all whites and greys and charcoals, and expensive appliances that were somehow all electrical for reasons I couldn't fathom. Since when did a broom have a motor?

Tommy turned to me, expectant, as if waiting for me to speak, running nervous hands over the seam of his jeans. I raised an eyebrow. Well?

"Look, I'm sorry, Ally," Tommy said, smiling his sweet smile, the one that made me love him. "I didn't mean to cause a scene. And I was trying to give you space. I still am." He paused. If he was waiting for accolades, or a woohoo, thanks for respecting my basic wishes, except the one where I wished my boyfriend didn't fuck my bestie, I wasn't going to provide. "But look, I heard something I think you should know."

I crossed my arms. "I don't know if you missed the memo, but I want nothing to do with you or anything that you heard."

"I know, but I think you'll want to hear this."

"Fine, but be fast about it. I have far better things, and people—" I added viciously, but we both knew who people entailed, his name a dagger between us that only I could wield "—to do tonight."

I watched Tommy resist the urge to snarl something hateful and cruel. I almost wished he would do it. But he took a deep centring breath and said something else instead, "Don't believe anything Delaney tells you."

His expression was earnest, guileless. Nervous to see my reaction. His thumbs ran clockwork around the buttons of his pockets absently. Those eyes were so clear, so steady, the way they looked when he told me he loved me and I could do nothing but believe it. And yet, I didn't believe him. Not because Tommy was a liar, but because Kai wasn't.

"Why?"

"People have been talking." Tommy lowered his voice conspiratorially, even though we were alone. "I know it must be hard to hear. But Delaney hates me, and I love you."

"And?" I was giving him one sentence, maximum. But when one word sufficed, I was hardly going to elaborate.

"And—?" Tommy spluttered. "Don't be an idiot, Ally. You had to know it was a possibility."

"What?"

"He's using you," Tommy hissed. "Whatever relationship he's promised you is fake; he's never going to actually commit to it. This is some fucking ridiculous revenge plot because he hates me. Look, I heard it from someone on the football team. He doesn't have any evidence, but apparently, he heard Miller and Torres talking, saying something about Kai always looking for a reason to fuck me over." You couldn't fault Tommy's feelings for me—he seemed incensed at the prospect of Kai using me, even if that was exactly what he had done. Tommy swallowed. "He— Valerie, I think he's going to sleep with you, and then ditch. Or something. I don't know, but I've heard things. And what else can you expect from someone like Delaney?"

"Well, I certainly expect he won't sleep with my best friend."

"This isn't about us, Valerie, or about what I did." To his credit, he didn't rise to my bait. "As someone who wants to be your friend—" I gave him a look that he seemed to correctly interpret as not fucking likely "—as someone who cares about you, I just thought you should know."

I gave him a smile that said, yeah, okay, thanks for letting me know, but your sources are full of shit. Uncaring, apathetic. Inside, my mind was whirring. Someone, at least, thought the relationship between Kai and I was fake. Including Jameson and Seb, apparently. But they didn't think I was getting revenge; they thought that Kai was. I mean, hey, at least that was less embarrassing. Begging the bad boy to date you was too pathetic for the public, even if he agreed to it.

"Thanks for your concern, but I trust Kai completely, and he has given me no reason to think otherwise." Unlike you, whore. And the thing is, even if Tommy wasn't talking shit, the sentiment rang true. Kai Delaney had earned my complete trust. 

"Of course, he hasn't," said Tommy bitterly. "Charm is the only thing Kai Delaney has ever had to his name."

His words struck a chord of fury within me that I couldn't react to, couldn't correct without losing the power of the conversation that was always reserved for the one who cared less. Kai Delaney was far more than charm, even though he possessed it in spades. Kai was kind and loyal and funny and dedicated. Kai took care of his sick mother because he felt like he owed it to his siblings. Kai agreed to date a pathetic girl with a vendetta and an eye for revenge. Kai was the best person I knew, and to reduce him to just charm felt criminal. 

"End it with him," Tommy pleaded. "Not for me, but for you. Get the upper hand. End the ruse before he fucks you over." End the ruse my ass. 

"Is this because you're jealous? Because, quite frankly, I don't give a shit if you're jealous." For the first time, those words rang true. So true, I gave Tommy a whole two sentences.

"I don't know, are you happy with him?" Tommy asked. I couldn't read his expression. Was that because he'd changed? His minute reactions altered in the time since we'd dated? Or had I only ever thought I understood them? Because I'd never predicted what he would do, in the end.

Knowing someone, every little part of them, is a process that I thought I'd mastered. But you can only know what they reveal to you, the parts of themselves that they're willing to share for you to study. I was starting to get the idea that Tommy hadn't shown me everything, and maybe I didn't know him all that well after all. I might not know Kai's favourite dessert or his least favourite One Direction member, but I felt like I knew his heart. And I knew, intrinsically, with every fibre of my being, that he wouldn't rail Sydney, so that seemed like a win.

It seemed far better than anything I'd ever had with Tommy. It seemed real.

"Yeah, I am."

Tommy sighed. "I wish I could say I was happy about it. So yeah, I am jealous. But I'm happy if you're happy, even if I think Delaney is nothing but charm and a decent-enough face. So, I'm not saying this because of some hidden agenda, or because I hated seeing you wrapped in Delaney's arms on that couch. I hope it isn't true. God knows you've been fucked over enough by guys who make promises they don't keep." He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, but I didn't offer him anything but a stony stare. "I'm going to go, but just... remember what I said. Just in case."

"No."

Tommy walked away from me. But just before he closed the door behind him, he said quietly, "I'm glad you're happy, Valerie."

Yeah, I was fucking happy.

Tommy and Sydney were the whole point of this thing with Kai Delaney, except I wasn't angry anymore. I was going to a concert with Sydney, and I was wishing Tommy all the best. I wasn't thrilled about what they'd done, and I had no desire to forgive and forget. Sometimes, when someone fucks you over, there is no redemption or grand fuck you. At some point, you just don't care anymore.

I had no desire to end the ruse with Kai, but maybe that had nothing to do with Tommy and Sydney anymore. Maybe I just liked him, and it wasn't fake. I'd never denied that, had I? From the moment Kai had agreed to this whole scheme, I knew I liked him. He was funny and hot and caring and charming, a great kisser, and also, like, really hot. And there was something between us; I wasn't imagining that, was I?

Kai Delaney didn't, historically, do commitment. I knew that. But I also knew he liked me. I wasn't stupid enough to ignore that. He'd included me into his group, flirted with me and laughed with me and kissed me like he meant it. He had charmed my mother and held my hand through the hardest period of my life and become my best friend. And sure, he might not be Tommy's biggest fan, but there was no need for him to spend late nights texting me, or mornings inviting me out for coffee, just to stick it to my ex-boyfriend.

So maybe this wedding wasn't the start of our fake relationship. Maybe, I could grow a pair, and make it the start of our real one.