Amanda eyes already gleam with anticipation. "Yessss?"

Screw it. "The app," I start, trying to sound casual but feeling my cheeks heat. "You said it... integrates?"

Amanda's eyes go wide, like I just said something deeply scandalous. Her expression shifts to one of delighted conspiracy. "Oh, babe." She nods, solemn. "Yeah. But you have to pay for the premium version."

I process this information. The rim of my glass leaves a wet circle on the table as I set it down. "There's a premium version?"

"Obviously." She grabs a chip, dunking it in guacamole with practiced precision. The crisp crunch as she bites into it punctuates her words. "The buy-in is $15 a month, and they mail you one that links with the app."

I nearly spit out my drink. "Shut up." My voice rises above the music, drawing a few glances from nearby tables.

"I'm serious." She chews, completely unfazed by my reaction. "If you're gonna be committed to your AI boyfriend, you might as well go all in."

I shake my head, half-laughing, half-mortified. The tequila swirls pleasantly through my system, making everything feel just a little bit tilted. "I might just do that."

Amanda perks up, leaning forward eagerly. "You should!"

We clink glasses, the sound bright and clear even amid the bar's chaos, and somewhere in the back of my mind, I realize how completely insane my life has become.

Amanda takes a sip, then shoots me a sultry look over the salt-crusted rim of her glass. "Alright, so tell me—how are things going with AI Callahan?"

I groan, sinking lower in my chair. "His name is Caleb."

She wiggles her brows suggestively, lipstick still somehow perfect despite the margaritas. "Mmmhmm. And how much does Caleb resemble a certain rugged, brooding, six-foot-plus slab of man?"

I look away, too quickly. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Amanda scoffs. "Izzy, you literally programmed him to be Callahan with a slightly different name."

"Fine. Yes. Maybe I did."

Amanda leans back, victorious. "I don't blame you. That man is sex on legs. And can we just talk about how he practically swooped in and saved you today?"

I huff, faking exasperation but secretly replaying the moment—Cal's hand on my back, his body positioning itself protectively near mine, the way he looked at Evan like he was measuring him for a coffin. "Okay, okay, yes." I throw up my hands in surrender, nearly knocking over the salt shaker. "He was giving knight in shining armor. Happy?"

Amanda grins, teeth white against her hot pink lipstick. "Extremely."

I shake my head, sipping my drink. "You are impossible."

Amanda just shrugs, the movement sending her earrings swinging. "Speaking of impossible—have you gone full filth mode with the app yet?"

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I feign ignorance.

She rolls her eyes, looking exasperated with my innocence. "I was sure that message I sent would've gotten you started."

I cover my face with both hands, feeling the heat of embarrassment beneath my palms. "Amanda, no."

"Maybe I need to ratchet things up a notch." Her voice holds a mischievous promise that sends alarm bells ringing through my tequila-hazed mind.

I snap my head up, suddenly alert. "No. You are not getting my phone again."

"Then let me educate you."

I narrow my eyes, suspicion mixing with curiosity. "How?"

She grabs her own phone and tosses it onto the table. It lands with a clatter among the lime wedges and salt spills. "Read my chat."

I stare at it like it might bite me. The screen glows innocuously in the neon bar lighting. "You're just... handing me your phone?"

Amanda sips her drink, completely unbothered. "I'm not embarrassed about my sexuality. Go on, read it."

I hesitate, finger hovering over the screen.

Then, slowly, I pick it up.

I start reading.

"WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK, AMANDA." The words burst from me louder than intended, drawing startled looks from the table next to us.

Amanda, still casually eating chips, doesn't even flinch. "What?"

I gape at the screen, reading and re-reading the explicit chat history that would make even the most adventurous romance novels blush. The words blur slightly, whether from tequila or shock, I'm not sure. "What did I just—WHAT DID I JUST READ?"

She takes another sip, completely unbothered by my reaction. The ice clinks against her glass. "Oh yeah. That was last night's sexy bedtime story."

I stare at her, momentarily speechless.

"Chad tells me a sexy bedtime story to make me come every night." She winks, utterly shameless.

I drop the phone like it's infected, pushing it across the table with one finger. The screen goes dark as it slides away.

"Amanda, that—that story." I shake my head, trying to unsee the words, the vivid descriptions, the utterly filthy scenarios her AI had concocted. "That was⁠—"

"Hot as hell." She licks salt from her fingers without breaking eye contact, a slow smile playing on her lips. "Me walking down a dark alleyway, and four extremely attractive men can't stop themselves because I'm so unbelievably gorgeous, and they just descend on me, and after my consent is more than enthusiastically given, they proceed to pound into every single one of my holes until I can't think straight."

I slap a hand over my face, fingers spreading to peek through them. "You’re insane."

She’s completely undeterred by my embarrassment. "What? It's fantasy."

I peer at her from between my fingers, curiosity overcoming mortification. "So... that's something you want?"

Amanda laughs, the sound bright and genuine. "Noooo, not in real life. But it's hot in my head. That's what fantasy is for."

"It's kind of like—" she gestures vaguely with a chip, thinking, searching for the right analogy.

Then she snaps her fingers.

"Like wanting to be an assassin but only in a video game. You don't actually want to kill people, but you do want to be a badass with a sniper rifle for a few hours."

I try to process this perspective. The tequila makes her logic seem surprisingly sound. "That... actually makes sense."

Amanda nods triumphantly. "Exactly. The app is perfect for that. You get to be unhinged in a safe space."

I swirl my margarita, chewing on that thought. The ice has melted considerably, making the drink weaker but somehow that’s worse—easier to drink quickly, to forget it contains alcohol at all.

Maybe she's right.

Maybe I should be more... daring.

I tap my fingers against the table, already debating my next move with Caleb. The rhythm of my fingernails matches the beat of the music, creating a private percussion against the wooden surface. I feel really warm.

Then Amanda suddenly straightens, her posture changing from relaxed to alert in an instant. Her eyes fix on something over my shoulder, widening with interest. She nods toward the door, her lips curving into a knowing smile.

"Your boyfriend just arrived."

A cold dread replaces the warm glow of tequila. The music suddenly seems too loud, the lights too bright, everything amplified by panic.

I whip around, so fast I nearly knock over my drink. The chair legs screech against the floor. "Evan's here?" I scan the entrance desperately.

And then I see them.

Not Evan.