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“That’s the most thoughtful thing anyone has ever done for me,” she confessed so softly her voice was just above a whisper.
“It’s just a few snacks squished in my pocket,” Libby joked, but she couldn’t laugh. She was too drawn in by the lips calling for her kiss.
When Libby licked her lips, Reagan’s own twitched to taste her.
“This might be the most fun I’ve had in a long time,”
Libby said after neither of them dared move any closer.
“Thank you.”
; Finding Libby’s waist with her palm, Reagan smirked. “I think I’m the one that’s supposed to be thanking you for bringing me to this swanky party.”
Libby’s throat danced as she laughed. The melodic sound bounced o the plaster ceiling and drifted through the archway before being carried o into the bay. It was the most enticing song Reagan had heard in a long time. “Do you always know the right things to say?”
“Maybe it’s a trick I learned after spending a week in the Colorado mountains,” she joked halfheartedly. Her mind was too occupied with warning her that a kiss would be a terrible idea while her body yearned to lean in and take the plunge.
The conflict left little room for cleverness.
“I thought you were born this way,” Libby challenged, her words low and slow like thick honey.
“You can’t be in here,” a man’s voice boomed, startling Reagan. Instinctively, she reached for Libby and pulled her close. “This area is o limits to guests. I’m sure you saw the many signs warning you of that.”
Before Reagan could come up with an excuse for their unauthorized presence, Libby stepped toward the man glowering in the small archway leading back to the garden.
In less than a minute, she’d managed to convince him of their innocence and asked if he’d escort them to the valet since they’d lost their way when trying to leave the gala. It helped that Libby really played up her intoxication.
As they walked, Reagan wondered if Libby really was that tipsy. Was she misreading her interest? Unwilling to take any chances, Reagan insisted on driving Libby home and then taking an Uber back to her place. Libby protested, but when she fell asleep a few minutes into the ride, Reagan headed for the place labeled home in her GPS. She had nothing to
keep her company on the ride except for stolen glances at the lightly snoring woman and mild unease.
Was she going to kiss me? Am I the only one who forgot we were playing pretend?
C H A P T E R 1 0
AFTER A COUPLE of painkillers to ease the ache in her head, Libby was ready to take on the world. She told herself her good mood had nothing to do with Reagan’s sweet text telling her she’d gotten home safely and thanking her for last night. It wasn’t about a fun evening spent being the center of someone’s attention.
No, her good mood was sparked by the great press she’d gotten after stepping out with Reagan. One online gossip mag had called them a breath of fresh air in the stale Miami social scene. Most importantly, no one had accused them of being together just for show.
Indulging in complete relief for the first time in what felt like a year, Libby practically skipped to the o ce. She had too much energy to waste it sitting at home and planned to bank a few dating advice articles. The muse was calling, and she was smart enough to answer.
As she entered her o ce, silent on her sta ’s day o , she was invigorated. She’d only gotten as far as sitting at her desk when her phone buzzed in the back pocket of her jeans.
Reagan: Apparently we’re news.
Libby smiled at the name on her screen. A moment later, Reagan sent the link to a blog post. She chuckled as she read the glowing commentary.
Libby: I don’t know if I should be insulted that I was never called anyone’s girl crush before you came along.
Reagan: Oh, come on, I’m sure you’ve been the subject of many a crush.
Libby: Nope. At least never publicly. You must have rubbed some of your swag o on me last night.
The conversation bubbles appeared and disappeared. Did I say something weird?
Reagan: You were 100% enchanting last night . . . and I don’t use that term lightly. Actually, I’m pretty sure I’ve never used it lol. My point is it was easy to look good with such a hottie on my arm.
