The past week has been uncomfortable. Between Taylor reminding me that Morgan and I have a reputation to uphold, and the attention my social media updates have been getting, it's been a heavy few days. But, what Taylor wants, Taylor gets. So here I am, adjusting my makeup in Morgan's phone screen as he tries to hold it steady in the moving Uber.

"Can you hold still?" I seethe, reaching up to adjust my false lashes. "Sorry, Mrs. Smith," Morgan pipes, running a hand through his hair. I sigh, pushing his hand down. "Sorry," I mutter, tugging my dress down, "I'm just anxious."

"Ah, don't be. You look great," he smirks, slipping an arm around my shoulder. I shiver under his warmth; the thin slip dress wasn't doing much against the October air. All I can do is reach up and squeeze his fingers as the Uber pulled up to the house- practically a mansion. The place is loud and buzzing, sprawling with people in costumes. My stomach knots as we step out- Morgan holds his hand out to me as I climb out, putting myself in "Mrs. Smith" mode.

Morgan keeps ahold of my hand as he leads me through the crowd and to Mario and Princess Peach. I recognize Michael, whose ridiculously large Mario hat was slightly askew. "Hey, Mo! And Juliette?" His tone is kind but surprising. "Hi, Michael," I greet awkwardly, raising a hand. "What're you doing here in Tennessee?" he asks, lifting his beer bottle to his lips.

"Just needed a change of scenery," I answer, tugging at my dress again. Caleigh must sense how uncomfortable I am, because she links her arm in mine, "Hi! It's so nice to finally meet you, I'm Caleigh."

I give her a smile, pushing some hair back from my face. "I'm-"

"I know who you are," she cuts me off with a smile. "I love your videos. So, how do you know Morgan?"

She looks to the country singer, who smirks, running a hand down his tie. "She's my partner in crime."

Caleigh laughs, her eyes sparkling under the dim lights. "Well, you two are definitely pulling it off." She leans closer, dropping her voice like a secret. "Let's go get some drinks."

She leans around me to speak to Morgan, saying, "I'm taking your wife to get a drink." He nods, lifting his beer bottle to us. I turn away, letting the princess pull me to the bar. "So," she begins, grabbing a glass from the bartender and handing it to me. "How long have you and Morgan been together?"

I swallow my first sip, which tastes a little too good to be safe. "Oh, we're not- it's not like that. It's not real," I say quietly, so no one else could hear. A knowing smile tugs at her lips as she brings a can of seltzer to them. "Uh-huh," she drags out. Before I can clarify, her attention shifts to someone approaching us, and I turn to see Morgan standing nearby and talking to a girl in a sparkly flapper dress.

My stomach twists slightly and I growl under my breath, taking a gulp of my drink. Caleigh's attention turns back to me, "You okay?"

"Yeah," I answer a little too quickly. Her eyes drift back to the pair before her expression falters. "Oh! Girl, go get your man." She gives me an encouraging nudge, and my palms are sweaty as I step away from the gown-clad woman.

The flapper's hand brushes against Morgan's arm as I stride toward them, my heels clicking against the hardwood floor. He notices me before I reach them, his lips curling into that signature smirk.

"There you are," I sing, threading my arm through his and flashing the girl a sickly sweet smile. "I was starting to think you forgot about me." Morgan, ever the performer, wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me into his side. "Forget about you? Never."

The girl's eyes flicker between us, her smile faltering. She gives an awkward laugh, muttering something about finding her friends before slipping into the crowd. As soon as we're alone, I drop the smile and shrug Morgan's arm off.

"Jealously looks good on you," he grins, leaning in just enough for me to catch a whiff of his cologne. "I'm just trying to stay in character. You should try it," I snap, tugging at the slit in my dress. "Why do you keep doing that?" he asks, taking another sip of his beer. "Because, I'm uncomfortable. One wrong move and I'll be on display for everyone to see."

Morgan rakes his eyes down my body, raising his eyebrows. He goes to make a slick comment, but Michael's voice booms through the crowd. "Mo, Juliette, get over here for a picture!"

"My lady," Morgan offers, holding his hand out. I gulp the rest of my drink before slapping my hand into his. He laces our fingers before pulling me to the middle of the room where Michael and Caleigh stood. As annoyed as I am, I can't say that I didn't like the way my hand fit in his.

"We gotta get pics like the cover," Morgan says enthusiastically as he positions us. He pulls my leg up, showing off the garter around my thigh. The photographer snaps a picture and then pauses to adjust the lighting. "Okay, give me Mr. and Mrs. Smith- like you could kill each other at any second, but you're madly in love."

Morgan tightens his grip around my waist, his fingers burning through the thin fabric of my dress. His breath is warm against my ear as he leans in to whisper, "C'mon, Juls, we're supposed'a look like we can't keep our hands off each other."

I slap my hand against his chest, creating enough space to glare up at him. He leans down, his mouth brushing against my ear as he speaks lowly, "You're supposed'a look like you wanna kill me, not actually do it."

I tighten my grasp on his shirt, twisting the fabric as I try to maintain a straight expression. "You're on thin ice, cowboy."

His chuckle is maddening. "You love it," he mutters, mouth so close to my skin that it sends a shiver down my spine.

"Perfect!" the photographer calls out. "Now, lean in like you're about to kiss- but oh! You can't, you're fighting it, it's dangerous." The photographer is having way too much fun directing us, watching intently like we're the actual actors.

Morgan tilts his head, his nose brushing against mine as he obeys the photographer's instructions. The scent of his cologne mixes with the whiskey on his breath, fanning across my face and making my stomach knot. "You're good at this," he mutters, his voice almost teasing, "Almost like you've thought about it before."

"Don't flatter yourself," I narrow my eyes, tilting my chin until our lips are a breath apart. He slides his hand up my leg, his thumb brushing against my inner thigh under the slit in my dress. I gasp at the contact as the flash goes off. "More, more! Like you're going to explode, either sexually or murder!" the photographer urges us closer.

Morgan's smirk has faltered, his gaze flickering to my mouth for a second too long. My chest tightens as his mischievous mask cracks, and for a second, it feels a little too real. My breath is caught in my throat- "Perfect!" the photographer claps, snapping us from the trance.

Morgan drops my leg and I quickly step back, putting space between us as I adjust my dress. My heart races and my mouth is dry, but I refuse to let Morgan see the effect he has on me.

"Not bad, girlfriend," he drawls, but signature smirk back, but it isn't as cocky as it usually is. I match his smirk with a forced one of my own. "You're lucky I'm professional," I shoot, turning on my heel and disappearing into the crowd. I just need to find Caleigh- having a female presence will calm me, regardless of us just meeting an hour ago.

I move through the crowd, my fingers tingling from where they were gripping Morgan's shirt. Mt stomach clenches; the line between pretend and reality just got a whole lot blurrier.

I push past Bonnie and Clyde, a few promiscuously dressed Disney princesses, many animals, and a Bob Ross before I find Caleigh. My skin is hot under my thin dress as she waves me over, her seltzer can raised in the air like a beacon of guidance. Relief floods through me as I reach her, and reach for a drink from the bartender. "Girl, that was steamy. I was blushing just watching."

I huff, gripping the straw as I take a big sip. "It's more of a PR thing," I admit under my breath, smoothing down my hair as she widens her eyes. Her tiara sparkles as it catches the light when she leans in. "What do you mean? You've been saying that, I'm confused."

"No," I insist, taking another long drink before saying, "It's complicated."

I've known this girl for less than an hour, but something makes me feel like I can trust her. Maybe it's the way she doesn't seem fazed by the glamor around us, or maybe it's because she's Morgan's best friend's wife. Or maybe I just need to get it off my chest, but the words are spilling out before I can stop them.

"It's all show," I breathe. "We're not dating. It's a PR stunt."

She blinks, her expression morphing from surprise to disbelief. "You're joking."

I shake my head, gulping my drink to steady my nerves. "No. We hooked up a while back and the media got ahold of it. Our managers were mad 'cause we got ice cream together and now we have to fake date," I rush, my head fuzzy as I spill everything out.

She leans forward, her seltzer forgotten in her hand by now. "Wow. I mean... I've heard of this kinda thing before, but I didn't think people actually did it."

She tilts her head, studying me with a newfound curiosity. After a moment of thinking, she asks, "So, are yall... friends?"

"I-" I cut myself off, thinking. Are we friends? He let me live in his house, but he's mildly infuriating.

Well, majorly.

I let out a humorless laugh, running a hand through my hair. "I don't even know. He's... infuriating. Cocky. Always... fucking pissing me off."

She giggles at my miniature outburst, "But you're in matching costumes, letting him hold you the way he did back there."

My cheeks burn as I look away, sliding my empty cup toward the bartender. "It's a part of the act," I defend. I grab a beer, lifting the bottle to my lips and grimacing when I swallow. Gross.

"Uh-huh," she drags. "Sounds like you're trying to convince yourself, not me." I open my mouth to argue, but the topic of the conversation's voice cuts through the crowd. "Ah, there you are."

I turn to see Morgan approaching, his suit top open and a beer bottle dangling from his fingertips. His eyes flicker between us before his lips twitch up into a smirk. "Finally makin' friends?"

"Mhm," I hum, drinking from my own beer, even though the taste makes me sick. "Beer? Somethin' must'a happened, what did you tell her Caleigh?" he teases, stepping forward to slip his arm around my waist.

"Nothing," Caleigh replies, tapping her fingers against the bar top as she raises her eyebrows at me. "Good," he quips before leaning down to speak directly to me. "You wanna step outside for a minute? 'ts quieter out there."

I glance at her, waiting for her opinion. She gives me a subtle nod; "Go," she says quietly, "I'll be here."

The cool night air coats me like a balm when we step onto the patio and I'm grateful for it. The noise of the party is muffled by the glass doors. Fairy lights are trapped across the trees, casting a soft glow over the space. Morgan leads me to a bench near the edge of the yard, his hand wrapped around mine.

We sit in silence for a moment, the tension palpable. I bring the glass bottle up to drink. My eyes are glued to the grass as I feel the weight of his gaze.

"You were quiet in there," he points out, his voice low.

I tug at the slit in my dress, trying to cover myself up a little more. "Just playing my part."

He chuckles, low and warm as leans back into the bench. "You're doin' better than me."

I raise my brows, glancing at him through the corner of my eye, "What do you mean by that?"

He runs a hand through his hair, exhaling. "This whole... 'perfect couple' thing. I don't wanna mess it up, I know how bad you've been stressin' over it."

I shrug again, not letting him see how his admission warms me from the inside out. "You're a natural," I begin, purposefully not acknowledging his admission, "That whole photoshoot? Way over the top."

His lips twitch into a lazy smirk. "You didn't seem to mind."

My cheeks flush as I look away, lifting the bottle again. "Maybe I didn't." I take a long sip, because if I can't talk I can pretend I didn't just say what I did.

His eyes glimmer as he watches me sip from the bottle. Morgan leans in, his breath warm against my ear as he speaks, "You don't gotta keep up the act all the time, y'know."

I set the settle down between us, my fingers curling around the cool glass like I could anchor myself with it. "I don't know what you mean."

He slides closer, his leg brushing against mine. His hand lingers on the back of the bench, "Maybe you're more into us than you wanna admit."

I feel his words more than I hear them. A sharp pang hits me in the stomach- I don't have the courage to meet his gaze. So I stand up, sharp and decisive. "I need another drink."

guys do I need to update sooner? if so, how often?