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“I’m ignoring you,” I say, and her laughter follows me to the elevator.
I head down to the ground floor and shiver when I walk outside. I look up the street, and I spot the black stretch limo parked a half block up. Tucking my hands under my arms, I start my trek down the snow-covered sidewalk.
“Hey.” I hear Shawn’s voice and watch as he jumps out of the car. He jogs toward me in his tuxedo and leather shoes, carefully navigating the wet and sloshy terrain. “Need some help?”
“I did not think this through.” I smile as he offers his hand, and I gladly take it. “Thank you.”
He maneuvers me past a snowbank and into the plowed streets of downtown. My heel gets stuck in a clump of salt, and I wobble on my feet. Before I can topple over and ruin my dress, Shawn lifts me in his arms and carries me bridal-style to the limo.
“I should’ve had the driver pull up closer to your door,” he says. “I’m sorry about that.”
“That’s okay. This is very helpful.”
“I like to be helpful.”
I pat his chest and fix his bowtie. “I know you do.”
When we reach the car, he opens the door and sets me carefully inside. I slide across the seat and bask in the warm leather and dim lighting. You’d never know it was hovering around thirty-one degrees outside while you were in here.
“Want some champagne?” Shawn asks as he sits beside me. He leans forward and pulls out a bottle from a bucket of ice. “It came with the limo.”
“I mean, I feel like we kind of have to, right? It’s too bad we don’t have some caviar too.” I smile as he pours me a drink. “What should we toast to?”
“How about the best fake relationship ever?” He lifts his glass toward me, and I knock it against mine. “The easiest partnership I’ve ever been a part of.”
I take a sip of the drink and the bubbles pop on my tongue. “That’s the fanciest shit I’ve ever had. You probably drink this every night, don’t you? I can see you walking around your apartment, chugging straight from the bottle.”
“Fuck you.” Shawn laughs and elbows my side. I scoot closer to him as the driver heads down the road. “You’ve been in my apartment with me. Have you seen any bottles of champagne lying around?”
“Just because I didn’t see them doesn’t mean they aren’t there,” I tease, and Shawn takes a deep pull from his drink. A drop of alcohol hangs on the corner of his mouth, and I want to lick it away. “Maybe you save it for after hours.”
“You’ve been in my apartment after hours, too,” he says, and his voice is an octave lower than before. Silky smooth, like the bourbon he gave methat night. “We can pretend like it never happened, Lacey, but you can’t expect me to forget about it completely. You haven’t, have you?”
I stare at him with wide eyes, and my hand trembles as I take another sip of the champagne.
I could lie.
Ishouldlie, because being honest goes against the rule offorgetting it ever happened.
Maybe it’s the expensive drink in my hand making my tongue loose or the intimate atmosphere of the limo, but I want to be honest.
I’ve triedreally fucking hardto forget about him and howgoodhis hands felt on my body, but I can’t. Ican’t, and I hate him for it.
I hate myself more for getting us into this mess in the first place.
“No,” I whisper. I tip the glass back and swallow the rest of the champagne. “I haven’t.”
I wonder if we could be friends who kiss.
Friends who hook up now and then without the big and messy and complex feelings that come with being in a relationship.
Friends with benefits and all the fun stuff like sex.
It would be easy, and we wouldn’t have to worry about there being an end date because we alreadyhavean end date in place.
With the way Shawn’s looking at me right now, I want to crawl into his lap. I want to take off my coat and let him touch me. If we weren’t headed to an event where he has to give a speech and we have to smile for the cameras, I’d ask the driver to pull over so I could have my way with the six-foot-six man next to me.
“We said one time.” Shawn glances away and fiddles with his shiny watch. I’ve never seen him wear it before, and the silver looks freshly polished. “We have to stick to that.”
