Page 129 of Faking the Goal

"Sorry."

"I'd like to keep at least one cup of coffee inside my stomach tonight."

He almost smiles, but his attention returns to the card.

"My point is, if he believes you're single, he can keep telling himself there's still a place for him in your life." Kentaro pauses. "But if he believes you're already in a serious relationship, that changes the situation."

"Changes it how?"

"It gives him something he can't reinterpret as easily. You're not waiting for him. You're not available. You've chosen somebody else, and as far as he knows, you're happy with that person."

He rubs the back of his neck. "Which actually gives me an idea."

I glance at him.

"If this guy thinks you're available, maybe we make sure he doesn't anymore. Make him believe you're already in a relationship."

"So..." I draw the word out slowly. "You're telling me I need to find a boyfriend?"

"Not necessarily."

"What does not necessarily mean?"

"It doesn't have to be a real relationship. It just has to look like one."

A fake relationship?

Is that what he's suggesting?

I blink at him, waiting for the rest of the sentence that makes this sound less insane.

It doesn't come.

"Okay..." I say slowly. "Ignoring the fact that your solution to stalking apparently came straight out of a shitty romance novel, don't you think there's one pretty major problem with that?"

His brows knit together. "What?"

"I don't know who the stalker is, genius." I gesture toward the coffee table. "What if the guy I choose to fake-date turns out to be him?"

Kentaro goes quiet.

"Think about it. I meet some guy, decide he seems harmless, tell him I need a fake boyfriend, and meanwhile he's internally celebrating because I've just handed myself to him gift-wrapped with a fucking bow."

His gaze drops then his eyes lift to mine.

"I can fix that."

"You can?"

He nods once.

"How?" I tilt my head. "What are you going to do? Run background checks on every eligible bachelor in the county? Make them fill out a questionnaire?" I start counting on my fingers. "'Have you ever stalked a woman?' Yes or no. 'Do you enjoy lurking outside apartment buildings?' Strongly agree to strongly disagree."

The corner of his mouth twitches.

"No."

"Then how exactly are you planning to guarantee I don't accidentally fake-date my own stalker?"