Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 75481 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75481 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
I snorted. “If that’s what turns you on.”
I watched his Adam’s apple bob as my hands framed his face. “I’m going to plant one on you. Don’t flinch.”
His gaze panned from my eyes down to my lips and back up again. “Why, exactly?”
“Showing him how it’s done. Stop acting like a deer caught in headlights.” His warm fingers tightened on my waist, and I’d admit, I liked how strong they felt. “Don’t worry. I won’t stick my tongue down your throat.”
I tilted my head, and he met me halfway. Our mouths brushed, and holy shit, my lips tingled. Pretend-kissing was fun and hot. Two more barely there passes of our lips before I pressed more firmly against his mouth. I thought I heard a faint groan in the back of his throat, but I had to be mistaken.
When he drew away, his face was flushed, and I was going to guess mine wasn’t much better. This was probably a really bad idea.
“Is he gone?” he murmured, his gaze zeroing in on my lips again.
I looked up to see Brett’s date dragging him toward the exit. “Yeah. All clear.”
Rowan straightened himself, all businesslike, then motioned to the exit.
I was still breathless as we stepped outside and watched the traffic go by, neither of us uttering a word. His hair was a bit mussed near his ears—had I done that? Maybe I got a little carried away.
I felt slightly woozy, like it had all been a dream, and right then, as I sobered from the cool air biting my cheeks, I certainly wished it had been.
My car arrived first, and Rowan opened the door to help me inside.
Such a gentleman.
Our eyes met one last time. “Be safe getting home.”
Then he slammed the door shut.
As the car pulled away from the curb, I refused to glance back at him. I rubbed my thumb over my lips, knowing we’d crossed some line yet still reveling in how good that fake kiss was. But it was all for show, so maybe we could pretend it never happened.
8
The following morning, I padded into Casey’s room and threw myself dramatically across his bed. “Oh God, I did something stupid.”
I felt guilty for waking him—we both could use the extra sleep—but I was going to burst if I didn’t tell someone.
“What do you mean?” He yawned as he turned sideways to face me. “Did you ruin the tux?”
Surprisingly, I hadn’t spilled anything on myself, so I called that a win. “No, I…sort of helped Rowan out of a jam.”
Yes, that was the right way to look at it. I was being helpful.
“How is that bad?” He stretched his arms over his head. “If anything, that would make you a gold-star employee.”
I barked out a laugh. “No way in hell this makes me anything resembling that.”
“Uh-oh. What did you do?” He stifled a yawn. “Embarrass him in some way?”
“No, I just…” I huffed out a breath. “His ex-boyfriend, Brett, showed up.”
“Isn’t he the pushy guy who called you to get a message to him?”
“Uh-huh, and apparently, they used to do this charity event together.” I thought of the way Rowan spoke about his dad last night. That had been progress. “Anyway, Brett showed up with a date, and I swear, they both looked like models.”
“Ooh, how pretty were they?” Casey sat up in bed, titillated by the details. He loved hearing all about what the celebs who appeared on the show were doing, wearing, and saying, so I wasn’t surprised by his interest in the guest list at this event.
I snickered. “That’s not the point of the story, but they looked hot together and tall and probably too thin, but who am I to talk?”
One time, a hookup complained my hip bone was digging into him. But I’d always been on the smaller side. I’d heard there was a darker underbelly in the modeling world that involved eating disorders and drugs in order to stay on top. What a shame. I supposed the same could be said of any profession that relied on public appearances.
“You talk plenty.” Casey nudged my shoulder. “So go on.”
“Brett was being obnoxious, and I felt bad because I know how much of a dick he’s been to Rowan…” I scowled. “There are some things I didn’t tell you because, like, not my business.”
“Sounds like you made it your business.”
“Yeah. The wine didn’t help.” I hid my face in my hands, but I had no one to blame except me and my bright ideas.
“Okay, out with it already. What did you do?”
“I…pretended to be Rowan’s date.”
His eyebrows knitted together. “I’m confused. You were there as Rowan’s assistant.”
“Brett didn’t know that. Besides, do assistants normally kiss their boss’s cheek and hold their hand?”
Casey sprang out of bed. “No fucking way.”
“That’s how it started, at least, and it worked. Brett looked jealous.”