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Hardening myself against him, I lift my chin as I fight the sting of tears. Then I remind him, “We have a deal.”
He deflates, but he doesn’t move from his perch above me. “I’d like to propose a new deal.”
I clench my teeth. “Let’s hear it?”
“Let’s say we up the ante of this game.”
“The ante?” I’m not sure I’m going to like this.
I sincerely doubt whatever he’s going to propose is going to work in my favor.
“One month. Thirty days. We play at being real. In front of everyone.”
“We already are. We already have.”
He smirks, but there’s a cruel edge to it that makes me feel uneasy. “No, we haven’t. I kissed you once for a camera to snap a photo to piss off your family. Other than that, we’ve lived completely separate lives.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I propose a game. We make a show of playing this for real for thirty days. The one who fails—the one who makes it obvious it’s all fake—that’s the one who loses.”
My heart is beginning to pound. Cautiously, I ask, “What does the winner get?”
“If I win, you give me my mother’s will. The real will.” His eyes hold mine, and he adds softly, “And you leave, no questions asked. No argument or tricks.”
My voice shakes. “And if I win?”
“I’ll buy you a car. And you get to stay, no argument or tricks.”
“You’ll buy me a car?” I think of the fifteen grand I have to my name. If he bought me a car, I wouldn’t have to dip into my savings.
“Yes.”
“Any car?”
He smirks. “Whatever you want.”
“You’re that confident you’re going to win?”
His eyes flick to my lips before landing back on my eyes. My chest suddenly feels tighter. “I have a lot more experience than you.”
Fighting my frown, I shift under him. “How exactly are we going to convince people we’re together?”
“We act like a couple. A real couple. Often.”
“But not when we’re alone.”
He considers. “I get to kiss you whenever I want.”
Why do I like that he’s added that stipulation? I shouldn’t. I really shouldn’t. But I do.
When I don’t respond, he presses, “So?” He dips his head, skating the blade of his nose over my collarbone. Goosebumps erupt across my flesh, and a gasp hitches in my throat. “Do we have a deal?”
“Sex is off the table.”
He smirks against my flesh, rumbling, “Says the woman who asked me to sully her.”
I make a noise in the deep of my throat. It’s half desperation and half annoyance with just a pinch of need. “I’m serious, Tav. Sex is off the table.” He pulls back to gaze down at me. “I don’t trust you like I thought I did. I won’t give you my innocence.” Shadows dance in the dark of his eyes, casting them into an ebony so deep and bottomless, I could get lost in them. Softer, quieter, I whisper, “I’m saving that for someone special.”
