There are certain things I never thought I'd do. Hiring an escort to pose as my boyfriend sits at the top of that list. But the idea of sitting alone at Mom's table for the fifth year in a row after my fiancé cheated on me has me feeling desperate. It started as a drunken joke when I let my best friend convince me to fill out an application for a male escort. Now, I'm on my way to see my family with the man I paid for.

He's nothing like the polished professional I expected-complete with tattoos, a sinful muscular physique, and a blunt attitude. I almost call the whole thing off. Yet there's something he's hiding under his gruff exterior, and while I'm supposed to be getting to know my fake boyfriend, I'd rather learn about who this mysterious man truly is.

What started as a simple business transaction isn't so simple anymore. We can barely keep our hands off each other-even when no one's watching. The lines we drew in our contract are blurring, and it doesn't feel like we're pretending. I can't keep up with our lie for much longer.

But how can I trust my heart with someone who fakes love for a living?

TW: Depression and talk of suicide in the past.