Page 157 of My Real Love Affair

MELODY

Cleo was sprawled across my bed, huge Gilmore-Girls lettering on her sweatshirt today, while I tried to decide between a dress or a cute pair of jeans and blouse for my return trip home. It probably didn’t matter, but just in case I was photographed leaving Austin’s hotel tomorrow, I wanted to look good.

“Dress or jeans?” I asked.

She looked at both options. “Jeans. Go for casual.”

I nodded and put them into the vintage Gucci bag I picked up at a secondhand store. “Maybe I shouldn’t pack a bag,” I said. “That might be presumptuous.”

“Please.” She took a loud slurp of Diet Coke that sounded like a judgment. “Girl, the entire internet is invested in your boyfriend. Everyone has an opinion on who it might be. And it’s funny, because no one is guessing Austin. You guys played that off well.”

I laughed and added a pair of socks, a bra, and panties. “Good,” I said. “Keep them guessing.”

“Yesterday somebody swore you were with Chris Evans on a long con. I almost snorted Coke out my nose. I’ve heard everything, from some guy that apparently works at a coffeeshop who is telling everyone you two are dating, to some politician.”

I laughed, zipping the bag with effort. “We said we’d let them wonder a little longer.”

Cleo rolled onto her stomach, rings flashing. “Which means you’re hoarding him like one of your limited-edition sneakers. I get it. I really do. Hot billionaires who look like the love child of Henry Cavill and trouble are rare. But the thirst is real. I’m fielding DMs from tabloids offering me Caribbean cruises if I confirm his identity. If they only knew I’m the bouncer.”

“Tell them to keep their cruises.” I pulled a pair of white cropped sneakers from the line-up inside my closet. My stomach fluttered somewhere between excitement and stage fright. I was afraid the bubble we created in Tahiti had officially burst. We had been texting and had talked a few times, but I hit the ground running as soon as we got back. We had not spent the night together.

And I missed him.

“Okay, real talk. When are you planning to let the world know that Voldemort’s nephew is your man? The speculation is cute, but it’s starting to look like you’re ashamed of him.”

I stopped what I was doing. “I’m not ashamed. It’s just… everything I touch lately turns into a headline I can’t control. Those pictures were the first time in months people saw me genuinely happy instead of calculating angles. I want to stay in that bubble a minute longer, where it’s still ours, not the internet’s.”

Cleo’s expression melted into proud big-sister approval. “I love that,” she said, sitting up now. “You’re protecting something precious. Austin gets it, right?”

“He does. He’s the one who suggested we keep it quiet for a while. Let people speculate.” I sat down on the edge of the bed. “I like that there are no cameras. Just us.”

Cleo’s eyes lit up. “And now you’re going to surprise him. Men love that shit. Especially men who are used to getting everything they want. Give him something unexpected.”

My heart started racing at the thought. “What if he’s busy? What if I’m interrupting something important?”

“Then he’ll make time. Trust me, that man is not going to turn you away at the door.” She waggled her eyebrows. “Especially if you’re wearing that little black thing I saw you tuck into the side pocket of that bag.”

Heat crept up my neck. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Uh-huh. Sure.”

I buried my face in my hands, laughing. “Okay, fine. Maybe I packed something nice. Just in case.”

“Just in case of what? In case you spontaneously combust from sexual tension? Girl, please. You know exactly what you’re doing.” She grabbed a throw pillow and hugged it. “I’m only a little jealous.”

I took a deep breath. “Okay. I need to get going. I still have to get to the grocery store.”

“I love the domesticated Melody,” she teased.

“Ha ha. I want to show him what a girlfriend can do. Treat him right with a home cooked meal and all of that.”

She climbed off the bed and gave me a quick hug. “I’m happy for you. I like that he’s making you happy.”

“He is,” I said.

We left together, with me already going through the grocery list in my head. I was definitely paying for a cab. I wasn’t going to be dragging bags of groceries onto the subway.

Two hours later, I stood in the lobby of the hotel where Austin was currently living. I had two bags of groceries that were just a little heavy. I was staring down the clerk at the front desk who was eyeing me skeptically. We were in a standoff. One Iintended to win. I was on the verge of flashing my boobs to get what I wanted.