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I let my gaze linger on his bare chest, but he reaches out, pointing the remote at the TV to turn it off, breaking my trance.
“Hey,” he says and moves around the coffee table toward me. “How was the meeting with the girls?”
“Good.”
I shrug off my coat and head for my room.
“Grace, hold on a second.”
His hand darts out to my hip to stop me.
I pause.
“I know you’re mad at me.”
“I’m not mad at you.”
“You are.”
“Preston…”
“Communication, Grace. That’s what we agreed on from day one. Now, tell me the truth.”
Ugh! Does he memorize everything that I say?
“I fell for it, okay!” I snap and then cross my arms as if having them in front of me is some type of shield. “Earlier, when you almost kissed me and the reporters got pictures, I fell for it.”
His brows dip toward his nose.
I’d told him not kiss me last night. Of course he’s confused by this.
So am I, really.
“I thought you were going to kiss me, and I wanted you to,” I tell him. “And then the reporters showed up, and everything that we are doing came back to me.”
I finally glance up. I didn’t expect the soft look on Preston’s face.
His mouth opens, but nothing comes out.
So much for communication.
I turn for my room and make it two steps.
“Grace.”
I stop.
“I didn’t know kissing you was an option earlier. Otherwise, I would have done it, and it wouldn’t have been for the cameras.”
My heart skips a little at that.
I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.
Chapter
Seventeen
PRESTON
