He was in no mood to text anyone, but muscle memory had him waking the phone up before he'd realised what he'd done. Two messages from Lily, his brain registered before the words hit him, and he completely shut off, unable to process what he was seeing.

The phone went to sleep again, and he impatiently woke it up and went to his messages, staring at the last two from Lily.

John, I think we should meet.

This just freinds bit isn't working for me anymore.

James stared at the words, the same ones that had ripped his heart to shreds less than an hour ago. He might have brushed it off as a coincidence if it weren't for one thing—an i and e flipped. "You misspelled friends," Rose had told Martha.

He paced the room, going over everything he knew about Lily, looking for anything that would make it impossible for her to be Rose. Both lived in London with a single mum. Lily loved Harry Potter, and Rose loved going on adventures. Both of them saw things he completely missed.

And Lily registered for Unboyfriend to deter a persistent classmate. James winced, but at least it held true.

And then there was the most compelling piece of evidence, the one he held in his hand. Rose had sent two text messages to her virtual boyfriend, and he'd gotten the same messages from Lily—his virtual not-quite-girlfriend.

James sank down onto the couch and stared at the ceiling. Rose was Lily. Rose was falling for John—for him. A third thought came fast on the heels of that one, chasing away the smile that had been spreading across his face.

Rose didn't know he was John.

Will she believe me if I tell her I didn't know she was Lily? Looking at it from her point of view, he couldn't help but see his own actions as highly suspect. In his very first conversation with Lily, he'd pushed for tips on how to be more attractive to Rose. He'd changed his behaviour based on Lily's advice, and it had worked better than he'd hoped.

He groaned and rubbed his hands over his face. And then the very next weekend, I "just happened" to run into her at Coffeevilla. It hadn't been planned at all, but would Rose believe that, with all the evidence stacked against him?

A key turned in the lock and John looked over at the door as Jack walked into the flat. "How are you, James?" The sympathy in his friends' voice made James laugh. He held up his phone, and after a moment of confusion, Jack took it. After he read the messages, he looked up at James. "Okay, so how did Rosie's texts to her online boyfriend end up on your phone?"

James took the phone back and waited for Jack to sit down. "Remember last fall when you got sick of me moping over Rose and dared me to register to be an Unboyfriend?"

There was a half second of silence, and then Jack started laughing. "You mean you've been texting Rose incognito for months and neither of you knew it?" James nodded. "And now she wants to meet to see if you could be a real couple instead of a fake one?"

James shifted in his seat; Jack's amusement was uncomfortably at odds with his own anxiety. Jack quickly picked up on his mood and asked, "Why aren't you all manic excitement?"

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe I'm more concerned with how I can tell Rose the truth without making her thing I've been playing her this whole time."

Jack stretched his legs out in front of him, his Cheshire cat grin still painted on his face. "You're forgetting one detail. Being matched with Rose wasn't something you had any control over. If she does ask questions—and yeah, she probably will—that's where you start. Then you swear on your honour that you didn't know until tonight, and you're home free."

James turned the phone over in his hands, considering Jack's advice. Being matched with Rose was more than he could have arranged. Maybe that fact would soften her enough to listen… "You think I should agree to meet her then?"

Jack gaped at him, then leapt up and cuffed him on the back of the head. "Ow! What was that for?"

"The girl of your dreams—the one you've been mooning over for almost two years—she tells you she wants to take your relationship to the next step, and you're not running to her with open arms? I never took you for an idiot, James Noble."

James rubbed at the back of his head. "Rose is finally talking to me. We're friends… I'd rather stay quiet and be her friend than ruin it by trying for something more."

"Not an idiot then, a coward." Jack sighed. "Look James, I understand where you're coming from, but that isn't fair to Rose. You saw how upset she was when "John" didn't answer her messages. Can you really leave her thinking you're not interested? And can your conscience handle the guilt of not telling her you're John, now that you know? If you kept the truth from her now, she'd have every right to be angry when she found out."

The inevitability of Rose finding out hadn't occurred to James, and he felt all the blood drain from his face as he imagined her rage. Jack nodded. "Good. Now text your girlfriend and go to bed. And don't be surprised if she doesn't answer right away. Mickey took her and Martha home about half an hour ago, so she's probably asleep already."

Jack disappeared to his own room, leaving James alone. He typed out several replies to Lily's request, but none of them sounded right. What if Martha had overstated Rose's feelings? What if she'd only texted him in the first place because she was drunk, or tired of arguing with her friend? He nearly gave up and put the phone away, but then he remembered Jack's warning regarding Rose's anger.

But in the end, it was the memory of the sad way she'd watched her phone that gave him the courage to be honest with her. Maybe she wasn't falling for him like Martha had said, but she certainly no longer saw "John" as just a friend. He tapped out a quick, two word answer and hit send, and then sent another, longer message that would eliminate any doubt as to his feelings.

DWDWDWDWDW

Bright sunlight streamed into Rose's room, hitting her face and rousing her from slumber. She grunted and yanked her blanket over her head; normally she was careful to close the curtains before going to bed, but between the alcohol and John's silence, she hadn't been thinking clearly the night before.

She tried to fall back to sleep, but the nasty flavour in her mouth wouldn't be ignored. Groaning in frustration, she tossed the covers back and stood up, moving slowly in deference to the dull throbbing in her head.

She fumbled around in the loo for a glass of water and some paracetamol, then pulled her dressing gown on. Might as well go eat. She purposely left her phone sitting on her bedside table; she could figure out how to save face with John after she'd had her tea.

Mickey was on the sofa, flicking through the channels with the telly muted. She raised her eyebrows and he pointed down the hall. "Martha's still asleep."

Rose pressed her lips into a thin line. "I don't care."

"Look, Rose…"

"No!" She cut through the air with her arm. "I can't… Martha ruined everything. How am I ever going to explain this to John?"

Mickey tilted his head back to look at her. "You really care about this person you've never met?"

His doubt rankled, so she ignored the question. "And to do it front of James! That's just… that was cruel. Although he didn't seem too upset, so maybe he doesn't fancy me anymore, which I know now, thanks to Martha."

Mickey snorted. "Of course James is still crazy about you. Or didn't you noticed how early he left last night?"

Rose shoved her hair out of her face and shuffled into he kitchen. Behind her, she heard Mickey shut the telly off and get up to follow her. "I mean it, Rose. And he was the one who got Martha to leave you alone when he could tell how upset you were."

"But that just makes it worse," Rose argued as she put the kettle on and pulled two cups out of the cabinet. She dropped a teabag in each one, then turned back to Mickey. "I mean, if he still… well, then Martha really hurt him by rubbing John in his face."

Mickey cocked an eyebrow. "You're awfully concerned with how James feels and if he was hurt. I thought you were falling for your online bloke." Rose didn't answer, but Mickey had known her long enough to correctly interpret the silence. "You like them both, don't you? John and James."

She sigh. "Yeah. And yesterday, I thought maybe I'd have a chance with one of them, but now John isn't talking to me and James thinks I'm in love with someone else! So excuse me if I'm not ready to forgive Martha yet."

The kettle went off and Rose poured water into both cups, then grabbed hers and escaped to her room. She shed her dressing gown and climbed back onto the bed, sitting upright with her back against the headboard. Her phone beckoned to her, and she sighed and picked it up. "Can't put this off forever," she muttered, unlocking the phone without looking at the screen.

On her home screen, the messages icon mocked her. Two notifications. From John? Letting me down gently? Her thumb hovered over the button for a few seconds before she gathered her courage and opened the app.

She read the texts from John, then reread them, then again for a third time.

Quite right.

And I suppose, Lily Evans, since I finally have a chance to tell you… the feeling is mutual.

Rose stared at her phone, waiting for her brain to stop playing tricks on her. But no matter how many times she blinked, the words didn't change. Happiness threatened to spread through her, but she still needed to be sure he really meant it.

When you didn't reply last night, I thought… well, maybe it was just me.

She hit send and crossed her fingers, and less than a minute later, she saw him begin to reply. Rose held a bath that she released as a squeak of joy when his message came through. Definitely not just you. And then a moment later, So, do you want to meet?

Yeah, of course. A problem occurred to Rose, and she bit her lip. Where do you live though?

Devon.

Surprised laughter bubbled up inside Rose. Well that's convenient then. I'm in Exeter.

Very convenient. I could be in Exeter tonight… if you want?

For a moment, the speed at which everything was changing overwhelmed Rose, and she almost said no. But the hint of uncertainty at the end of his text, as if he didn't quite believe she wanted to meet him, encouraged her. You move fast, John, she teased. But yeah, tonight would work. Where do you want to meet?

You know the place by the cathedral where the restaurants set up tables in the summer?

Rose knew exactly where he meant. Yeah, of course.

I'll be there at 6:00.

How will I recognise you?

I could ask you the same thing, Lily Evans.

Rose giggled. His habit of calling her by her full name had started to feel like a term of endearment. We could go with the classic? she suggested. I'll carry a book and you wear a carnation?

You are a romantic, aren't you? Before she could feel embarrassed by her suggestion, he sent a second text. What book will you be carrying?

Book. Rose finally twigged to the day and glanced at the time. She only had an hour before she was supposed to meet James. Harry Potter came to mind immediately, but as she started to reply, she paused. She and John hadn't really discussed Harry Potter since that first week. It felt wrong, somehow, to use something she'd shared with James to connect with John.

A bittersweet longing lodged in her heart at the thought of James. Of course she couldn't have both men; she knew that. Didn't make it ache any less as she chose one.

But she was supposed to be telling John what book she'd be carrying. She glanced at her book case and a title jumped out at her. Let's stick with tradition, she said. Pride and Prejudice.

DWDWDWDWDW

The bell on the door jingled when Rose entered Coffeevilla. After so many weeks, the barista recognised her and raised an eyebrow in question, holding up a pot. Rose nodded and paid the cashier, getting a pastry to go with her tea.

"Is your boyfriend coming today too?" the barista asked as she handed Rose the tea.

"He's not… we're not…"

The other woman cringed. "I'm sorry, I just figured, from the way you look at each other."

"S'okay," Rose assured her.

But the exchange rattled her a bit. Here was a stranger who'd assumed she and James were together, based on nothing but the way they acted around each other.

She took a deep breath and sat down. I'm with John now, she reminded herself, or I will be as long as tonight goes well. She turned the cup right side up and poured some milk into it, followed by tea. The ritual calmed her nerves, and she flipped open the book to finish the chapter she was on before James arrived.

She'd just finished when she felt a prickling sensation on the back of her neck, like someone was watching her. She looked over her shoulder and saw James, standing outside the cafe with a painfully uncertain expression on his face. For the second time in less than twenty minutes, she wondered if Mickey and Martha were right and he did still have feelings for her. The ache in her heart was stronger now, but she smiled at him and he finally stepped inside.

Rose listen to him ramble at the counter, debating his order and going on about the properties of the various drinks and what benefits they each provided. It was so James that she couldn't help but smile.

"You certainly look happy today," he said when he sat down. Rose ducked her head and cursed the flush she could feel spreading across her cheeks. "In fact," he continued, "I'd wager you finally got a reply from John."

She glanced at her phone before meeting his eyes, happiness swelling up inside her when she thought of her plans for the evening. "Yeah, I did."

James drank from his latte. "And?"

Rose tilted her head, trying to see some sign in his demeanour that he was bothered by the idea of her seeing someone else, but he just met her gaze steadily. She let out a breath slowly, trying to convince herself it was relief she felt.

"We're meeting tonight."

James raised his eyebrows. "He doesn't waste any time, does he? Not that I would either, if I were in his shoes."

"James…"

Something flickered in his eyes too quickly for her to identify it. "Right," he said, "so how far did you get in Goblet of Fire?"

Rose blinked. His words had seemed… wistful? But now he was just acting like this was a normal day for them. She remembered watching the mask fall over his emotions the week before and debated calling him on it, but what good would it do? Suppressing a sigh, she picked her book up. "I got as far as the names being drawn out for the Triwizard Tournament."

James leaned back in his seat and stretched his legs out. Rose had become accustomed to this habit, so she shifted over automatically, wondering as she did when exactly she'd gotten so familiar with James Noble's mannerisms.

"Poor Harry," he said, and she forced her thoughts back to the book. "I've always thought it was a bit unfair of everyone to blame him for a situation he obviously couldn't have orchestrated."

"How do you mean?"

"Well, Moody… er, Barty Jr. says it, doesn't he? It would have taken a wizard with more skill than Harry had to confound the goblet of fire, so obviously, it wasn't his fault his name was called. And yet the whole school, even his best friend, thought he'd done it."

Rose felt a need to defend Ron. "Well yeah, but think of it from Ron's point of view. He's never gotten anything he wanted. He already had a hard time dealing with Harry's money, and now he's gone and gotten himself entered in this special contest. He feels like yet again, life has passed him over in favour of Harry."

James slumped a little, and Rose got the distinct impression that hadn't been the reply he'd hoped for. But before she could backtrack, he took a deep breath and straightened his shoulders.

"Yeah, I guess it must've hurt Ron to always see someone else get what he wanted. And it happens a lot in this book—look at Hermione and Krum."

Rose's mouth dropped open a little. Did he just…

A furrow appeared on James' brow, and she could almost see him going over what he'd just said. He turned scarlet when he realised it, and started stammering denials and protests. "I'm just saying… you pointed out… It was a hard year for Ron."

Rose nodded. "It was," she said softly. "Of course, if he'd just done as Hermione suggested and asked her himself, that could have been avoided at least."

She expected him to bolt. She did not expect him to meet her gaze squarely and say, "And if he'd done that, do you reckon she would have said yes?"

Rose's heart beat faster. They weren't talking about Ron and Hermione, and they both knew it. She wondered briefly if it was fair of her to tell him this when she was meeting John in only a few hours, but he seemed to want to know. "If he'd said something before Krum asked, yeah."

Something in his eyes lit up, and she feared she'd given him too much hope. But before she could retract her statement or explain, there was a loud crash in the kitchen.

The barista groaned. "New dishwasher. I'd better go see how much damage he did."

When Rose looked at James again, the spark of hope was buried, or maybe she'd just imagined it. "So the beginning of this book is a bit different," he said. "What did you think about Rowling breaking away from Harry's point of view—since you like to analyse it as a piece of literature."

Rose rolled her eyes and opened her mouth to answer, but she was cut off by the alarm on her phone. "Time to get ready to meet John?" he asked.

She nodded and slid out of the booth. "See you later, James."

DWDWDWDWDW

A cold January wind whistled through the streets. James shivered and pulled his brown wool coat around himself more tightly, grateful for its length. He'd not considered the weather when he'd suggested they meet outside; hopefully Rose wouldn't get too cold waiting for him.

He was almost certain she'd be glad to find out he was John, as long as she believed him when he told her he hadn't arranged it. Her happiness this afternoon had been too obvious to miss, but under that there was something else when she looked at him, something he wanted to say was longing. Still, he would have dismissed it if she hadn't told him, well almost told him, that if he'd asked her out before she sent those messages to John, she would have said yes.

His hands dug deeper into the warm pockets, and the fingers of his right hand brushed against the soft petals of the carnation he'd purchased that afternoon. For a moment as he turned the corner near the cathedral, he thought about putting it on. Then he saw Rose, and his courage faltered.

He pulled his hands out of his pockets and walked over to her. "Fancy seeing you here," he said lightly. "Is this where you're meeting John?"

Rose bit her lip, and he was surprised to see nervousness in her eyes. "Yeah, he'll be here at six." They both looked at their phones—five till six.

"Tell me about him," James said. Her eyebrows rose, and he shrugged. "You have five minutes, and it'll keep you from watching the clock."

Her laughter sent a trickle of warmth down his spine. "Yeah, all right. Well, first of all, he loves Harry Potter as much as you do. He sent me this email months ago about how the movies weakened both Rose and Hermione's characters."

"Well they did," James said, keeping his voice mild. "Giving all Ron's good lines to her turns her into a Mary Sue and takes away some of his best qualities. Not really a fan of the films, personally."

Rose looked at him oddly. "That's almost exactly what he said."

"We must've read the same online post then," James said easily. "So he has good taste in fiction. What does he look like though?"

She blushed. "I don't know. We've never sent pictures."

"You don't… then how are you supposed to recognise each other?" Rose held up her book. "Ah, of course. And I suppose he'll be carrying a rose?"

"Wearing a carnation," she corrected.

James slipped his hand into his pocket and touched the flower. "He'll walk around the corner with a carnation on his lapel, and he'll see you with your book, and—"

"James, stop," Rose said. "Look, I don't want to be rude, or mean, but it's already 6:00, and… what are you doing here, anyway?"

"Meeting someone, same as you."

She pursed her lips, and lines appeared around her mouth. "Well I… what if John… I don't want…"

"You don't want John to see you talking to someone else and get the wrong idea."

"Nah, if he runs because I'm talking to another man, then good riddance." She took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I just think it's nerve wracking enough to meet someone for the first time like this, without an audience. I don't want to scare him away."

James smiled softly. "I think your John is far too excited about meeting you to let anything scare him away."

Rose huffed out a sigh and turned away, her eyes roaming the street. James pulled the slightly crumpled flower out of his pocket and stuck the stem through his buttonhole. "In fact, I imagine he's dreamed of this moment for longer than you can imagine. He'll walk down the street and see you standing here, looking so beautiful and holding a copy of Pride and Prejudice, and he'll smile and say, 'Hello, Lily Evans.'"

"James, please!" Rose exclaimed, then she spun around, her mouth hanging open. "What did you call me?"

Her eyes fixed on the carnation, the splash of crimson against brown that declared his identity more clearly than words. "Surprise?"

Rose blinked slowly. "How did… John?"

James nodded. "John Smith Smith not be the most inventive alias," he said.

"I don't understand." She ran her hands through her hair, and the lines around her mouth deepened.

James spoke quickly, trying to get the explanation out before she moved from confused to angry. "Jack dared me to sign up for Unboyfriend, something about using it to learn what I was doing wrong…"

"With me," Rose finished. A glint of steel entered her eyes, and he forced himself not to flinch. "So was this all an elaborate plan to finally get me to go out with you?"

"No!" James stuffed his hands in his pockets. "Even if I wanted to do that—and I wouldn't—there's no way I could have arranged being matched with you."

"Just like Harry couldn't arrange for his name to be in the goblet of fire." James swallowed hard and nodded. "When did you figure it out?"

"Only last night, I swear. When I saw the texts, the same ones I watched you send John."

Her stance relaxed and she nibbled on her lip. James held him completely still under her examination, and finally, she smiled. "I wished it could be you."

The soft confession made James' heart soar. He reached out and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. "Well, here I am." She leaned slightly into his caress, and he couldn't help but close the distance between them. "May I?" he whispered against her lips. Her nod caused her lips to brush against his, and he followed them with his own for a sweet, soft kiss.

When Rose sighed and pulled away, James looked down at her in rapt amazement. "You know, I think I've been falling for you again as Lily Evans," he said. "I just wouldn't admit it to myself. How could I fall for Lily when I'm already in love with Rose?"

Her wide eyes and quick gasp reminded him that even though he'd been in love with Rose forever, this was actually their first date. He took half a step back, even though his body protested the distance. "Sorry, is that too much?"

She drew in a shaky breath and shook her head. "Not if you mean it."

"Oh, I do. Rose Tyler, no matter what name you go by, I love you."

Rose placed her hands on his lapels, and she touched the carnation for a moment before sliding her hands up to play with the hair at the nape of his neck. James' hands landed naturally on her waist, holding her close. She looked up at him through her eyelashes and said, "Then I suppose, if it's my first chance to say it—James Noble, I love you."

He recognised his own line and laughed softly. "Quite right," he replied before leaning down to kiss her again.