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After taking care of the bill, making sure to show how much I appreciate the display and our service generously, we continue towards the exit.
“Tanner, what the hell? Where are you taking me?” Elsa demands.
I turn back to her, and grab ahold of her waist, pulling her against me.
“Follow my lead and trust me, angel.”
Chapter 7
Elsa
Trust him? Follow his lead?
That’
s fucking rich.
The last time I trusted Tanner—well, let’s just say, I’ve avoided doing it ever since. Nothing good ever happens once you put your trust in him to lead.
But I see no other way of getting out of this restaurant, so I do, albeit reluctantly.
Pulling me to him tightly and weaving through the crowds of people and waitstaff, it catches the attention of more than a few patrons.
Of course, he’s making a bigger scene than this needs to be.
He’s always been good at making a show out of something, including his asinine stunt that got us in this fucked up arrangement in the first place.
As we stroll by, some of the interested people are bold enough to point and gawk.
I roll my eyes and laugh. It’s amusing how little they care about looking like assholes.
Before we make our way out the exit, I see Lis at the other end of the restaurant—where we were less than a minute ago—typing away at her phone and smirking peevishly.
This will definitely be making the Chronicle tomorrow.
Maybe it’ll look better for us and our engagement—fake engagement, that is.
I try to recall everything that happened in the short hour or so after I arrived, but it all happened so quickly. This whole damn thing has been a whirlwind.
One minute, I’m inches away from him, ready to jump him, and the next, I’m blindsided by Lis.
Honestly, though, I’d never thought I’d say this, but thank god for Lis. Without her cockblock, more than just my hand would be on Tanner right now.
A heated tingle vibrates under my skin once I realize how close I was to consummating this engagement. I was almost panting and already dripping with desire for him.
Like, I was nearly begging him to touch me.
It’s fucking ridiculous how fast he can mess with me. He can unravel all the hard work I’ve done to distance myself from him with only a few words.
It’s pathetic, but I refuse to be a cliché. And like my lingerie, I’m not a worn-out trope.
So I’ll be damned if I fall for any of his charms again. I need to keep reminding myself that though he is my pretend fiancé, he is still really my enemy.
I’m hit with a gush of fresh air as we exit out the front door.
Fortunately, it slowly melts away the sugar-coating Tanner laid on thick tonight, with those goddamn lights and flowers.
It was a beautiful, romantic display, but not appropriate for what we are and what we agreed to be.
