Page 102 of The Golden Scoop

The restaurant’s AC is blasting, a much-needed relief from the Californian summer heat. Matt orders a salad—per Jennifer’s strict instructions to keep his diet in check—and gets me a cheeseburger and a basket of fries. He makes me feel less guilty about it by stealing some off my plate, which he then replenishes with an order to-go.

Our knees brush under the table, and I make it my personal mission to rile him up by discreetly dragging my foot up his leg. His jaw tightens harder each time. The man can survive Hollywood press tours, but apparently a small brush against his upper calf is where he draws the line.

Between the teasing, we trade stories about everything imaginable. Childhood memories. Family disasters. Our relationship with Julia and Harrison—we both acknowledge the risk of this.

Matt brushes his thumb over my knuckles. “We’re better together,” he says simply.

I believe him.

For the past three weeks, we’ve barely spotted paparazzi around, which is exactly why it feels like we’re illegally ambushed when we step outside and there’s a swarm of cameras shoved in my face.

Matt’s protective instinct kicks in right away. Thank God, because I’m stuck, frozen on the spot. One hand settles firmly over my back, urging me forward, while the other lifts toward the cameras.

“Matt! Is this a new girlfriend?” someone yells.

“Are you officially off the bachelor list?” another shouts.

Everything happens too fast. One second I’m laughing over fries, the next I feel like I’ve been dropped into freezing water. I wouldn’t even care about the cameras if they weren’t such a brutal reminder of how serious this is now. Public. Visible.

Worst of all, we’re still working together.

By the time we reach the cars, the paps have left a decent distance between us. Matt turns to me, his expression softer now we have a second “alone.”

“Are you okay?” he asks.

I nod. He leans down to kiss me like he’s been doing for the past couple of days and panic spikes through me before I can stop it. My hand presses lightly against his chest, holding him back.

Immediately, everything shifts.

Matt frowns at first, confusion flashing across his face. Then understanding crashes against him as hard as it hit me.

“Emma…”

I still work for Golden. I’m on assignment until the article’s published. This can go very wrong in the blink of an eye.

“I can’t do it in front of them.”

He gives me a small nod. “Right.”

He tries to play it off, hide his disappointment, but I still catch it. A tiny crack in the domestic ease we’ve created these past few days. There’s still a wall between us we’ve blissfully ignored.

The article.

The guilt of hiding the truth about my career.

What it means for his own.

I watch him drive away, the ache in my chest has now so sharp it borders on unbearable. Because for the first time since this started, since I met him, even, I understand how much there is to lose. He might not feel the same, or as strongly as I do, but…

I can’t imagine my days without Matt anymore.

TWENTY-THREE

Matt

Can a house change overnight?

Everything feels different since Emma stayed here two days ago. From the coffee mug still sitting in the sink to the towels hanging over the bathroom door. My bed somehow feels too big now that I know what it’s like to wake up with her pressed sleepily against my chest.