An opposites-attract, friends-to-lovers, slow burn, fake-dating romantic comedy. Love is all fun and games until somebody gets hurt. Usually, me. I admit it. I’m a relationship recluse. Ironic, given that I write romantic comedies. So, I’m on a sabbatical from dating. Which is why fake dating my best friend, Rory, is foolproof. Rory suggested it because he needed a date for work functions. And I can use our experiences as fodder for my romcom novel. Plus, my sister doesn’t know it’s not real, and she is thrilled that I’m not walling myself off emotionally. Her words, not mine. But I do wish she would stop saying that she always suspected there was something more between me and Rory. She should realize that we’ve been friends forever so I’m immune to his appeal. We would never work. Rory is such a romantic; he still believes in that perfect love similar to his parents’ marriage. My parents fought bitterly. So, we are better off as friends. I can’t risk losing our friendship, even if this might be my chance—before his ex-girlfriend wins him back. Those flickers of attraction? Easily extinguished by cold-water reality, like a two-mile hike in drenching rain over sand with wheelie luggage. But our relationship is not sticking to the plot—or is it?