Page 61 of The Wrong Proposal


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“Go,” Franklin commands as soon as Royce’s door slams.

Royce guns the engine until we merge with traffic. A few minutes pass before he glances into the rearview mirror. His eyes are on Franklin, staring out of his window, his finger and thumb digging into his chin, deep in thought.

Neither one of us speaks.

Royce’s gaze fixates on me, perhaps checking if I’m okay.

The paparazzi didn’t rattle me. I’m silenced by Franklin’s admission about owning the restaurant.

Why didn’t he mention it to me rather than act like we were regular diners?

Now I’m wondering what else he is keeping from me.

I don’t know this man.

He doesn’t act like he is better than me, and when I’m with him, I think of nothing except us—we’re in our own small bubble. Only I can’t help feeling like I’m not enough, and worse than that is the knowledge that what we have is temporary.

The insecurity is eating me up because I’m falling hard for Franklin.

My hands tremble in my lap.

Bernard’s father was about to belittle me in front of everyone before Franklin stepped in.

“To your penthouse, sir?”

“No, Malibu.” It’s all Franklin murmurs without taking his focus from the window.

“Do you mind dropping me home first, Royce?” My voice cracks on the last word.

I need to be alone.

No matter how much I feel for him, Franklin will probably need to pay someone to stop the pictures of us from reaching the internet. He doesn’t need to have his image tied to someone like me.

Franklin straightens, and I feel his gaze on me. His hand covers mine in my lap. “Why?” he whispers. He gently squeezes my hand and slides closer to me. It’s reassuring that he cares, but I can’t be with him tonight.

We have sexual chemistry.

Tonight, my heart needs more.

What Franklin and I have is more than I ever felt with Bernard. Our conversations are easy, and I’ve never been more comfortable with any guy than I am with Franklin.

Glancing down to his hands, I savor the warmth of them on mine. He gives me a sensation of protection. I have to let him go because the longer we are together having casual, regular sex, the harder it will be when he no longer needs me.

“I want to be alone tonight.” I avert my gaze to the window because it hurts to look at him.

“Take Penny home,” he instructs Royce.

His eyes remain on me. Every part of me feels him. Back straight, chin up, I remain strong. We both need time, and what I’m feeling inside cannot be fixed by sex.

I need to be loved.

Protected from people like the Wagners and not just on a dinner date.

I need someone who wants to be with me for me, to feel safe, and not have an expiration date where my heart will be broken when my body is no longer needed.

And Franklin has said he is not seeking a relationship.

I wanted the sex even after Hugh warned me about Franklin. Now, I want what he can’t give me.

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