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Well, that shouldn’t be happening.
Avoiding your feelings doesn’t make them any less real.
Oh, shut up.
* * *
Plan a fake date,they said.It’ll be easy.
Said no one ever.
The hostess, who is now five hundred dollars richer thanks to me, guides us to the table located right beside the reporter. That’s all I can think of as Declan’s mask of indifference slides in place and his palm finds the small of my back. The warmth emanating off him bleeds into my skin, and I’m tempted to shimmy closer to him.
“Anything else I can get for you, Mr. and Mrs. Kane?”
The red-headed reporter looks up from her menu. A flicker of surprise passes over her features as her eyes scan Declan from head to toe.
I shake my head as Declan replies for us, “No, thank you.”
Declan’s hand breaks contact with my back as he pulls out my chair. I take a seat, and he pushes me closer to the table. Unlike other times, he doesn’t step away, but rather he leans forward.
His lips brush against the shell of my ear as he whispers, “You better be right about this.”
I shiver. “Have a little faith in me.”
“I’m a bit hesitant given your track record.” He chuckles, sending those butterflies in my stomach on fire.
“I take offense.”
“Forgive me.” His teeth graze the tip of my ear, sending another current of energy through me.
Is this part of the show? I’m extremely confused until I catch Declan’s eyes connecting with the reporter’s.
I release a pent-up breath as Declan pulls away and drops into his seat across from me. The weight of his stare presses against my chest like an anvil, making each inhale progressively more difficult.
I look past him only to lock eyes on the reporter. She types away on her phone, completely ignoring her date.
Something tells me she is taking notes.
Time to put on the show of your life.“I wish we were still on our honeymoon.”
Go along with it,I say with my eyes.
“I do too,” he says it without an ounce of sarcasm.
Huh. Does he actually mean that or is he lying to appease our audience? The first thought makes me push for more. “Why?”
“Because it turns out vacations aren’t the worst thing in the world.”
“Told you!”
His lips curve at the corners, but he remains quiet.
“What changed your mind?”
He leans in. “Not having to think about anything but which way I wanted to fuck you next.”
My sharp inhale isn’t staged. Neither is the way my heart beats like a war drum against my chest. My eyes flick between his burning gaze and the reporter’s flushed face.
