Practice Makes Perfect

15

Riley’s POV

The studio faded into the background as I walked out into the cold air of the city. My thoughts churned, still caught on Carson. Rogues didn’t just show up out of nowhere—especially not ones who reeked of calculation. Whatever his game was, I’d figure it out.

For now, though, I had something else to focus on: Ethan.

I checked my phone, rereading his text from earlier. He wanted to come over tonight to practice. Just thinking about spending time with him sent a warm flicker through the storm of tension in my chest. Practice might’ve been his priority, but I couldn’t help but feel a little selfish.

The way he looked at me when he thought I wasn’t paying attention… the way his knee had brushed mine last night, lingering just long enough to make my pulse jump—he wasn’t as oblivious as he tried to act. And Ava? She’d caught on too. Her teasing only fueled my suspicion that Ethan felt *something*.

Not that I was about to push him. Ethan had walls thicker than a steel vault, and I knew better than to try and tear them down too quickly. But tonight, maybe I could start chipping away at them.

I ducked into a small grocery store on the corner of my block, grabbing a basket. If Ethan was coming over, I wanted to cook something. Something casual, but good enough to show I’d put in some thought.

My wolf perked up, his restless pacing easing as the task grounded me. Cooking always did that—calmed the noise in my head. I wandered the aisles, picking up ingredients. Pasta. Fresh tomatoes. Basil. Garlic. Parmesan.

Simple, classic, and warm—kind of like Ethan.

By the time I got back to my place, the tension from the studio had dulled into the background, replaced by quiet anticipation. I set the bags on the counter and started prepping, the rhythm of chopping and sautéing filling the apartment with comforting scents.

---

An hour later, I heard the knock at the door. My wolf stirred again, but this time it wasn’t from unease. It was *him*.

When I opened the door, Ethan stood there, his hair slightly messy from the wind, a bag slung over his shoulder. He looked surprised for a moment, his eyes darting past me to the warm light spilling from my kitchen.

“Hey,” I said, stepping aside to let him in.

“Hey,” he replied, his voice softer than usual. He hesitated, glancing at the counter where the pasta was still steaming. “You… cooked?”

I shrugged, closing the door behind him. “Figured we could eat before we get started. You okay with that?”

He blinked, his guard slipping for just a second as he stared at me. “Yeah. I mean, yeah, of course. You didn’t have to, though.”

“I wanted to.” The words came out easy, casual, even though my heart was beating a little faster than it should’ve been.

Ethan dropped his bag near the couch and wandered into the kitchen. “Smells amazing. What’s the occasion?”

“No occasion,” I said, grabbing plates from the cabinet. “Just figured you might need a break. You’ve been running yourself ragged lately.”

He looked at me sharply, like he wanted to argue, but then sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah. It’s been… a lot.”

I didn’t press him. Instead, I handed him a plate and gestured toward the table. “Sit. Eat. We’ll talk about Liam and your plan after.”

Ethan sat reluctantly, but by the time he took the first bite, I saw his shoulders relax a fraction. He didn’t say much while we ate, but the silence wasn’t uncomfortable. It was… easy.

---

After dinner, Ethan pushed his plate aside, his expression more focused. “Alright. We should get started.”

I leaned back in my chair, studying him. “You sure? You look like you’re about to collapse.”

He shot me a look, but there was no real heat in it. “I’ll be fine. We don’t have time to waste. Liam wedding’s not going to wait forever, and I need to be ready.”

“You’re already better at this than you think,” I said, standing and grabbing our plates. “You just need to trust yourself.”

He scoffed. “Easier said than done.”

I loaded the dishwasher, glancing over my shoulder at him. “You trust me, don’t you?”

Ethan froze, his mouth opening slightly before he closed it again. He looked away, fiddling with the edge of his sleeve. “Yeah. I do.”

“Then let me help you,” I said, my voice soft but steady. “You don’t have to carry all of this by yourself.”

For a long moment, he didn’t respond. When he finally looked at me, something in his expression had shifted—like a crack in the armor he kept wrapped so tightly around himself.

“Okay,” he said quietly. “Let’s do this.”

---

The warm glow from the kitchen spilled into the living room as I placed the last plate in the sink. Ethan leaned against the counter, arms crossed and eyes thoughtful. His quiet presence filled the space as naturally as the smell of freshly cooked pasta still lingering in the air.

“So,” I said, drying my hands and turning to face him. “We’ve covered the basics—how we met, how we started dating, and a little bit about the fake backstory. What’s left to rehearse?”

Ethan exhaled slowly, pushing off the counter to stand straighter. “Convincing everyone that we’re madly in love. That’s the hard part, isn’t it?”

I smirked, walking closer and raising a brow. “Hard? Ethan, you’re supposed to be a brilliant strategist. Surely you can pull off a convincing performance.”

He let out a short laugh, shaking his head. “Convincing strangers at a wedding that we’re a couple? That’s not exactly my area of expertise.”

“Well, it’s a good thing you’ve got me, then,” I said, tapping his shoulder lightly. “Think of it as just another mission. But instead of saving the day, you just have to pretend you adore me.”

His lips twitched like he wanted to argue, but he stayed silent. I could tell he was overthinking it, the way his shoulders tightened and his jaw set in that familiar way.

“Look,” I said, crossing my arms. “We’ve practiced holding hands, the whole ‘meeting each other’s eyes and smiling like we’re sharing a secret’ thing. What’s the issue?”

He hesitated, then let out a frustrated sigh. “It’s not the actions. It’s… the emotion behind it. I don’t know how to fake that.”

My brow furrowed, and I stepped closer, lowering my voice. “You don’t have to fake it, Ethan. You just have to stop overthinking. Let yourself relax for once.”

He didn’t respond, his gaze flicking to the floor. The silence stretched between us, heavy but not uncomfortable.

I took a step back, giving him space. “Alright, let’s try something.”

Ethan looked up at me warily. “What?”

I grabbed the chair across from him and sat down, gesturing for him to do the same. He hesitated for a moment but eventually followed, sitting down across from me at the table.

“Imagine this,” I said, folding my hands together. “We’re at the wedding. People are watching us. What would you do to convince them we’re a couple?”

His brows drew together in concentration. “I don’t know… Hold your hand? Smile at you?”

I sighed, shaking my head. “That’s surface-level stuff. You’re still thinking too logically. You’ve got to make them feel like we’re in love. Like you see me and no one else in the room exists. Can you do that?”

He scoffed. “Easier said than done.”

I leaned forward, locking eyes with him. “Then stop thinking about the room, the people, the stakes—everything. Just focus on me. Pretend I’m the only thing that matters.”

Ethan’s posture stiffened for a moment before he slowly relaxed. His gaze softened, the sharp edge of tension in his features easing slightly.

“Alright,” he said, his voice lower than before. “Let’s try it.”

I nodded, sitting back. “Good. Start with something simple. If we were really a couple, how would you look at me?”

He raised a brow, but his expression shifted, his eyes lingering on mine a little longer than necessary. It was subtle, but the intensity behind his gaze made my pulse quicken.

“Better,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “Now, how would you touch me?”

Ethan hesitated, then reached across the table, his hand brushing mine. His touch was cautious at first, but when I didn’t pull away, his fingers curled around mine.

I felt my wolf stir slightly, but I ignored it, focusing instead on the warmth of his hand. “That’s good,” I said softly. “Now, let’s add dialogue. What would you say if someone asked how we got together?”

Ethan thought for a moment, his grip on my hand tightening slightly. “I’d say… we met by chance, but I knew right away I wanted to know you better. That you made everything else seem less important.”

My breath hitched slightly at the sincerity in his tone, but I didn’t let it show. “And what would you do if I looked nervous? Like I was doubting myself in front of everyone?”

He leaned forward without breaking eye contact. “I’d remind you that I’ve got your back. No matter what.”

My heart skipped a beat, and I had to remind myself that this was all practice. “You’re getting better at this,” I said, my voice softer than I intended.

Ethan smirked slightly, though his expression remained serious. “I told you I’m a quick learner.”

“Good,” I replied, standing and letting go of his hand. “Because if we’re going to pull this off, we need to convince everyone that we’re the happiest couple in the room.”

He stood as well, his eyes never leaving mine. “We will,” he said with quiet confidence. “As long as you don’t blow our cover.”

I rolled my eyes, brushing past him to grab my coat. “Me? Blow the cover? Please. You’re the one who can’t stop looking like you’d rather be anywhere else.”

He chuckled, following me to the door. “Guess I’ll have to work on that.”

I glanced at him over my shoulder, a smirk playing on my lips. “Don’t worry.”