What Could Go Wrong?

*Josie*

“What did you just say?”

Leo sits frozen in his office chair, dumbfounded. “Why don’t you explain this to me like I’m five?”

I pause halfway through peeling open a Twix bar. “What part of this isn’t making sense?”

My best friend of sixteen years is tucked into his subterranean cubicle in the hospital basement, staring up at me like I’ve started barking in binary.

It’s almost funny—he’s watched me shift into a golden-furred wolf dozens of times. Leo isn’t laughing. His pale cheeks are flushed a stressful scarlet that makes his bright orange freckles pop, a fact he deeply despises.

“I don’t know,” he says, dragging both hands through his unruly crimson hair. “Maybe the part where you marched into the executive board meeting and announced that Denver fucking Taylor is your bonded mate?”

Ah. That part.

I’m still processing that I actually went through with it.

When Denver laid out his predicament in the break room, it sounded like a late-night drama serial. I’m almost sure I scrolled past a web novel with this exact setup last week.

If I weren’t certain Denver Taylor hasn’t cracked a genuine joke since the turn of the century, I’d swear I was being punked. Yet here I am, perched on the corner of Leo’s desk, unwrapping chocolate while officially tethered to the most intimidating cardiologist in the state—at least as far as hospital HR is concerned.

“Keep your voice down,” I hiss, glancing toward the dark hallway. “Someone might hear you.”

“Oh, right, because then I’d be an accessory to fraud?”

I roll my eyes. “Don’t be dramatic.”

“Josie, how on earth did you pull that off? How did you convince a room full of hardened administrators that this isn’t absolute bullshit? Which it is, by the way.”

I went into that conference room with maybe thirty percent belief that Denver could bluff his way through, fully prepared to watch it crash and burn. But damn—the man commands a room like a force of nature. Must be an alpha thing.

I snap off a finger of the candy bar. “Turns out when Denver Taylor speaks, people sit up and shut their mouths. Who knew authority was contagious?”

“Are we playing a game where you feed me breadcrumbs until I spontaneously combust from stress?”

I lean forward and lightly boop the tip of his freckled nose. “You’re so cute when you’re panicked.”

“I need actual details. You’re killing me.”

I wave a dismissive hand. “He gave this smooth, highly articulated speech about how we deliberately hid our bond to protect my professional autonomy. He said I didn’t want anyone suspecting favoritism or thinking I rode his coattails. By the time he finished, the board was apologizing for invading our private life. Masterclass.”

Leo stares in disbelief. “And they swallowed that?”

“They had us sign a formal conflict-of-interest disclosure, stamped it, and dismissed the inquiry.”

“Jesus, Josie. Have you even thought about what your—hey, stop doing that.”

I pull the candy bar away. “What?”

“Stop scraping the caramel and chocolate off with your front teeth. It’s horrific.”

“The shortbread is the best part. You’ve known this since fourth grade.”

“That doesn’t make watching you dissect a chocolate bar any less traumatizing. I don’t want melted caramel all over my dual-monitor setup.”

“Did you just get prissy about caramel?”

“I swear on my mechanical keyboard, I will evict you from my cube.”

“Yeah, yeah.” I return to stripping the cookie layer. “They really ought to sell just the shortbread base.”

“Whatever. What about Claire? You think your gran is going to buy that you’re suddenly bonded to a head surgeon?”

“Just dating,” I clarify.

He blinks. “What?”

“Mated for the hospital board. Casually dating for Gran.”

Leo lets out a loud, mocking snort. “Brilliant. So we’re running a multi-layered deception campaign? Constructing a full tomfoolery tiramisu?”

“You’re absurd. It’s going to work out fine. Focus on the silver lining: months without pretending I care about a date’s opinion on crypto or model trains.”

“I’d call that a victory—except your new fake boyfriend is Denver fucking Taylor.”

“Pretty sure that’s not his middle name.”

“How would you know? You just bound yourself to his corporate cover-up without knowing a single personal detail about the man!”

“I was running low on options!”

“Why didn’t you just ask me to be your fake date?”

“Because we’ve been best friends since middle school!”

“Haven’t you ever read a friends-to-lovers book?”

I narrow my eyes. “Have you read friends-to-lovers?”

He stiffens. “I am not justifying my reading choices to you.”

“You read trashy web novels!”

“It’s high-stakes romance. It has character growth.”

“Why are you suddenly consuming romance? Things with Hot Pilates Guy not going well?”

“Julian is doing just fine. We’re getting drinks this Friday.”

“Hmm. I wonder if he looks as toned out of compression gear.”

“Stop derailing!”

“That’s technically relevant. Besides, Gran would never believe that you and I are dating. She literally walked in on you making out with Julian behind the garage at your sister’s graduation party.”

Leo looks scandalized. “I still cannot believe your grandmother was managing the snack table.”

“I didn’t pick the staff lineup.”

“Ugh.” He digs his knuckles into his temples. “This gives me a migraine. You know this is going to blow up in your face. There’s zero chance it ends neatly.”

I lick a spot of chocolate off my thumb. Deep down, I know he has a point. Navigating a fake relationship with the scariest doctor in the building is a minefield. But Denver has far more to lose—his entire career trajectory—which weirdly makes me feel like he’ll keep tight control of the reins.

“I’m looking at it like fate,” I say.

Leo slumps low, covering his face. “Josie, have you processed how dangerous this could get? He’s an alpha. You’re an omega. What happens if his instincts kick in and he tries to claim you?”

“Oh, please.” I laugh. “I’ve worked on the same floor as him for over a year, and he hasn’t once launched into a moon-crazed frenzy. We’re fine.”

“Because he’s been drowning himself in medical-grade suppressants! Suppressants mask things. You’ve never spent real time around him. Glaring over trauma charts doesn’t count. Does he even know what your sub-classification is?”

“Huh.” I tilt my head. “Never brought it up. Completely slipped my mind. But I don’t think it matters. The whole alpha/omega dynamic is mostly ancient lore and exaggerated drama. There aren’t enough of us around for real data. Non-issue.”

“So, are you going to tell him?”

I weigh it. The odds of Denver losing his mind and sinking his teeth into my neck the moment he finds out are practically zero. If things get weird, I can end the arrangement. Settling down with a real mate isn’t on my agenda. Probably never will be.

I wave the worry away. “And risk him turning into a brooding tragic hero straight out of a fantasy novel? ‘It’s not the gravity holding you to the earth anymore; it’s her.’”

“Is that a Twilight line?”

“Eclipse, actually. And I’m not apologizing for my taste in mid-2000s cinema.”

“Jesus, help me.” Leo rubs his eyes. “And what happens if... you know, the obvious.”

I arch an eyebrow. “The obvious what?”

“What if your... cycle hits?”

I suppress a laugh at his awkwardness. “Are you seriously asking about my heat?”

“Have you factored it in?”

“Of course,” I lie. I give it maybe four seconds of thought. “I’m not due for months. There's zero risk. Calm down. No big bad wolf is carrying me off to a cave in the Rockies.”

“I’m just saying... that’s literally how your parents ended up bonded so fast—”

My smile vanishes. “Don’t go there.”

“Sorry.” He holds up his hands. “I know you hate talking about them. But that’s the reality.”

“I am nothing like them,” I say quietly. “I’m not losing my head over Denver Taylor, and I’m definitely not begging him to mate with me the second my hormones spike.”

“Fine.” Leo sighs. “So this whole insane stunt really just comes down to dodging your gran’s matchmaking directory of horror?”

“Model trains, Leo. Do you know who built the very first model train set?”

He lifts an unimpressed eyebrow. “No.”

“That makes two of us, because I tuned out after the guy told me Napoleon’s nephew owned it.”

“Was it because he was short, too?”

I snap my fingers. “That’s the exact joke I made. Did not land.”

“I’m shocked.” Leo gives me the long-suffering look he reserves for my questionable life choices. “So why did you really agree to help Denver?”

“I told you. I’m exhausted from Gran’s—”

“Try again, Josie.”

I pop the bare shortbread into my mouth and chew thoughtfully. “I don’t know,” I admit. “I’m the one who backed him into a corner in the break room. And honestly? The scent-marking perk is practical. One fake cuddle from Denver and every overly eager shifter in the city leaves me alone.”

Leo rolls his eyes. “Because that’s not going to be completely awkward.”

“Whatever. It’s fine. And if I’m being totally honest? The guy was in a tight spot. He might be an arrogant jerk, but he’s an incredible surgeon. It’s absolute trash that the board tried to derail his career when he’s never given them a legitimate reason to doubt his work.”

“Look at you, playing the noble hero. Since when do we risk our necks for Denver Taylor? He’s practically a demon. Did you hear the rumor about him breaking a nurse’s nose in the hallway?”

“I heard it. He assured me it was ‘grossly exaggerated.’”

“That’s exactly what a demon surgeon would say.”

“It’s going to be completely fine.” I finish the last bite of shortbread and dust the crumbs off my hands, nodding with total confidence.

I mean, come on—it’s just a few tiny lies and a completely fake relationship.

What could go wrong?