AllFreeNovel
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Today was fun. Pushing each other, testing boundaries. Shamelessly flirting. One bright day of sunshine after a year of clouds and I want that warmth on my skin again, not to shoot down the fucking sun.
Except Gabriel Sinclair is not my sun. He’s not important to me. So he saved my life and took my breath away with a couple of kisses and pulled me in at the distillery when the PR people wanted me out. He’s Hollywood’s golden boy, and I was a kitten stuck in a tree. Now I have to tell him I was in that tree to wreck a nest and eat some birds.
He’s going to hate me. But he’s Gabriel Sinclair. NDA or not, I know this secret is safe with him.
He takes my hand and leads me into the hotel, like a dutiful boyfriend. Maybe people are watching because he makes more of an effort than I do, bending to whisper in my ear. His words are empty—some actor’s warm-up technique. When the door to our room shuts behind me and locks, he turns to me with an expectant look on his face.
There’s a bottle of bourbon in the room, so I delay the inevitable and pour us each a glass.
When I turn around, Gabe is sitting on the couch, his ankle resting on his knee. He’s undone two more buttons on his shirt, and he’s watching me with a dark intensity.
The effect hits me right in the guts—he looks exactly like what I want.
No. This is wrong. I can’t want him. I have to burn it all down.
I hand him his glass, then down as many gulps of bourbon from mine as I can take before the fire becomes unbearable. “I’m in love with Nic.” I gasp through the burn, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand.
He stares at me, unblinking. Unmoving. No change of expression on his face. No indication of what he thinks of me.
I take another big gulp and barrel on. “It was supposed to be him in that room, but Lea messed up.” I can see him connecting the dots, so I look away. “A photographer was waiting outside with a view into the room. When you walked in…well, you look enough like him I figured it didn’t matter. A picture of us together, at that distance, would do the trick. No one would know you weren’t Nic. The paps at the door weren’t part of the plan.”
Silence stretches between us. His unblinking stare has me squirming like a bug.
He drains his bourbon and sets it down on the coffee table. “You tried to end your cousin’s marriage.”
I nod, tears springing to my eyes at the closed expression on his face. “Yes.”
“Thanks for telling me.” He gets to his feet and with a murmured good night, walks off to his room.
And that’s it. That’s the end of the fake us, and it hurts like we were real.
I drop into his spot on the couch. It’s still warm. I can smell his cologne, and I think I like it better than Nic’s, which is not helpful. I sip the rest of my bourbon and stare at the wall, and suddenly, I don’t think I’m as in love with Nic as I used to be. He’s barely been on my mind since I climbed into Gabe’s car.
It unsettles me enough that I sleep in Nic’s shirt, hoping when I wake, things will make sense.
They don’t.
I’m up early for once. I pack the shirt deep into my suitcase, then piece by piece I slip back into Ashley Foley, Reality TV Villain. A too-short lilac dress, strappy heeled sandals, and a deep mauve lip. Hair perfectly styled. Like I’m ready for a day out rather than a whole day in a car.
Who am I kidding? I’m going home. Even though my attempt at breaking up Nic’s marriage isn’t public knowledge, I have no doubt the fact that I tried matters to the golden boy.
I think it’s starting to matter to me, and the guilt is uncomfortably heavy.
If Gabe couldn’t stand my company last night, he won’t be able to be in the same car as me and he definitely won’t be able to fake kiss me in front of the paps or real kiss me in the dark.
Not that I want him to. Because I don’t.
Except maybe I do.
Gabe isn’t up yet, or he’s hiding in his room, or he left already. I walk out of the hotel, sunglasses on, ignoring the guy who takes my photo from the rolled-down window of a shitty rental car as I cross the street to the coffee shop across from the hotel.
I’m recognized by more people than I expect. I’m not this famous, so it has to be because of Gabe. But there’s elbowing and whispering. I want one of these bitches to come up to me and call me names on Wendy’s behalf or anyone else I wronged on that show. I’m pretending to ignore everyone as I book a midafternoon flight to LA on my phone. I’m so stressed out when I reach the front of the line, I forget my coffee order.
I order Gabe’s Café Americano. Two, because people are watching and at least right now, I’m still in this relationship. And two breakfast sandwiches even though I don’t like breakfast sandwiches.
I’ll buy him breakfast, I guess, but then say goodbye.
My phone rings. It’s Lea, so I answer it.
