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“Sweet dreams, pretty girl.”
***
I woke to a blazing headache and the scent of coffee hanging in the air. On the nightstand was a bottle of ibuprofen, a glass of water, and a protein bar. After carefully sitting up, I gulped down two pills and burrowed back under the covers to unwrap the food.
The sheets smelled like Axel.
I closed my eyes, breathing in deep. The idea of going back home filled me with dread. I had to do it though. I had to face the music that I’d created. I knew Mom had already seen my announcement that I was “dating” Axel, but I’d ignored her texts and calls—which she wasn’t going to be happy about either.
With a disgruntled noise, I sat up and searched the room for my purse. I found it on the floor, next to the platform heels Alexandra let me borrow. As I retrieved my phone, my gaze fell on a few pictures scattered along the walls.
One small, faded picture showed a young Axel with a massive building behind him. Probably a boarding school. His arms were crossed and he stared grim-faced at the camera. His stiff uniform looked like it was strangling him.
But there were other pictures, too, with the Axel I knew. Nearest to the bed was a picture of Axel with his arms slung around the shoulders of two tattooed men—the same two men I’d seen him with that night at the theater when he’d approached me. Were these men part of his club? Judging by the way he beamed at the camera, a moment of laughter forever frozen in time, it seemed obvious that this was the family who had welcomed him into their ranks.
My phone buzzed in my hand, bringing me back to the present. One glance at the screen showed over a dozen missed calls, nine voicemails, and hundreds of notifications. Most of the voicemails were from my mother, but a few of them were from Lionel, too. He must have hated how fast I moved on from him.
A faint, experimental knock came at the door.
“Beth? Are you awake? There’s hot coffee if you want it.”
I put a hand to my hair, fingers quickly cataloging all the tangles. I must look like a mess. It was bad enough that Axel had seen me drunk off my ass last night. He didn’t need to see me hungover.
“That sounds amazing,” I replied. “Do you mind if I take a shower first?”
“Sure. Everything you need is in the cabinet under the sink—spare toothbrush, soap, fresh towels.”
“Thank you.”
As Axel’s footsteps moved away, I shoved my phone back in my purse. My time with him was dwindling fast. There would be other dates, but I wanted to stretch this one out a little longer. And I wouldn’t waste that precious time on voicemails and notifications.
The shower was gloriously hot. By the time I was done, the painkillers had kicked in, rendering my headache to a dull, tolerable throb. The clothes I’d worn yesterday were around here somewhere, amid the bags and bags Alexandra had left behind. I decided to look for them later.
Lacing the corset up by myself was a lesson in frustration, and eventually, I gave up. So, I grabbed an oversized black shirt from the stack under the sink instead. It was huge on me, and soft, and maybe I was just looking for an excuse to steal one of Axel’s shirts to ease the pang of leaving him when I returned to my mother’s house.
As I emerged from the bedroom, drying my damp hair with a towel, I spotted Axel in the kitchen, standing at the counter. It was the first time I’d seen him without his vest and I could stare at his back for days. His sandy colored shirt was stretched tight across his broad shoulders, revealing every swell and dip of muscle. His black jeans were snug against his ass, fitting perfectly to his powerful thighs.
My heart squeezed in my chest and my stomach twisted.
Fake dating be damned, I wanted him in every way that was real.
Chapter Eight
Axel
I barely heard the faint sound of Beth’s footsteps before she slid her arms around me from behind. The soft heat of her lips pressed against the back of my neck with a kiss that lingered longer than it should have.
The toaster popped, delivering a golden waffle that gave off a swirl of steam. If I’d known I was hosting company for the night, I would have gone shopping for more than frozen waffles, but this was all I could manage on short notice.
Ignoring the food, I kept my hands braced on the countertop. Beth smoothed her palms up my chest, showing no inclination to address breakfast either.
When Beth and I were in the public eye, I was constantly reminded of the audience we had. Watching every move we made. No matter what my feelings were for her, the relentless scrutiny and lack of privacy was enough to keep myself in check.
Now that we were in my apartment, alone, with no one to pry, there was nothing to stop my feelings from running away with me. When she brushed another kiss to the back of my neck, my breath caught in my throat and my cock twitched, growing harder.
I closed my eyes, fighting myself to remain composed.
“Beth,” I said, part warning, part pleading. I pried one of her wrists away from my middle as I turned to face her. “You’re not thinking clearly with that hangover.”
