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“Why would I be excited that my fiancée feels the need to lie to me?”

“I'm sorry,” I say. “But I can do it. I'm getting better. I can handle it.”

“And what if you can't? You barely got out of your contract for Together.”

“I can. I promise.”

“That world isn't good for you. It's too stressful.”

“Why can't I decide what's good for me?”

“You need to turn this down.”

“Please, Ryan, I need this.” My voice cracks into a high pitched whine. Ugh, it's so awful. How does he always make me into such a whiny, awful mess?

Ryan's phone rings. I glance at the screen. It's a call from Luke. Luke's called him before, but only to schedule emergency meetings.

Ryan answers the phone with a curt, “What is it?” He whispers to me, “We'll finish talking about this later.”

“When?” he says into the phone. I slink into the kitchen and look for a frozen dinner. I really should invest some of my free time into learning how to cook. That, Ryan would be happy about.

“You think everyone is an asshole… maybe he is, but he's high profile,” Ryan says into the phone. He sits at the kitchen table. “She's done it before. She's very charming.”

So Ryan did notice that.

I find an appropriately moderate calorie, low fat frozen dinner and open the microwave. Ryan covers the phone to talk to me. “Don't make one of those awful things. I'll make something.” He goes back to the phone, “No, I need to talk to Alyssa… it doesn't involve you.”

He pushes me out of the kitchen and pulls ingredients from the fridge. “What else do we have to talk about?” he asks, turning on the counter-top grill and coating it with oil. Another night, another dinner of grilled fish, steamed vegetables, and brown rice. “Fine,” he says. “But you'll have to keep it quick.” He hangs up the phone and turns to me. “Sweetheart, Luke insists on stopping by to finish this conversation.”

Fuck. Luke is going to be in our apartment. Luke is going to be here, in front of me and Ryan, mere feet away from our bed. He's never asked to stop by the apartment before, not when I was home, and I'm always home. It couldn't be because of me? It couldn't be because I indulged his flirting? It couldn't be because he wants to make me come, could it?

“Why don't you get dressed? He'll be here soon.”

“But we weren't finished talking,” I say. If I don't stand my ground, I won't convince Ryan. He is tough and strict. Whining won't convince him. The only thing that will convince him is proof I can handle it.

“We are finished,” he says.

“I need to do this, Ryan.”

He presses the chef's knife through a broccoli stalk with a sigh. So maybe I am getting through to him. Maybe if I keep insisting…

“Fine, sweetheart, we'll talk about it more later. Now, go put on some clothing,” he says, and he throws the sliced broccoli into the steamer. I really should learn to cook. I've been wary about being around so much food, so many indulgent ingredients, but I don't know how much more of this steamed broccoli and brown rice stuff I can take.

“Something nice,” he adds. “I don't want him to think he's welcome to hang out here.” And, of course, Ryan doesn't want Luke to think that I am anything less than a polite, demure, fashionable trophy girlfriend. Trophy fiancée. Future trophy wife.

Ryan doesn't want Luke to think that anyone could do any better than Ryan has done.

Chapter 7

Luke sits on our couch, stretched out like a cat—arms over his head, his shirt riding up his stomach, exposing inches of taut muscles. I can't take my eyes off those sexy v-lines of his. Why does he have to be so fucking attractive?

You are engaged, Alyssa Summers. You are engaged to Ryan Knight, the guy who pretty much saved your life. You are engaged and you are not the kind of girl who entertains these kinds of thoughts about other men. You are not the kind of girl who cheats.

“Sit at the table at least,” Ryan says. He takes a look at my chosen outfit—a tight, low-cut dress—with clear disapproval. That's not what I meant when I said nice, Alyssa. He should be happy. I put on my engagement ring.

Luke greets me with a hug, and I can practically hear Ryan scowl. But I don't care about Ryan's reaction. It feels so good to have Luke's arms around me, even if it's only for a second.

And it's just a hug. A hug never hurt anyone.

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