Page 20 of The Temporary Fiancée
It’s Reed Eastwood, spooning me.
The previous night comes rushing back to me all at once. The conversation on the patio. The tequila. The drive back to my apartment. The sex. The numerous orgasms. The memory floods me like a rush of cold water.
Shit.I just slept with the son of my mom’s old boss! I slept with my childhood crush, the one guy I was never supposed to sleep with!
Panicking, I take a few deep breaths, trying to calm myself down enough to act. Reed is still asleep, but the sunlight streaming through my window, illuminating the blonde highlights in his hair, is bound to wake him up soon.
I move slowly, trying to slip out of bed. If I can get into the shower before he wakes up and says anything to me, I might be able to get my head on right and figure out what to do.
The second I pull away from Reed, his grip on me tightens, and he pulls my body back against his with a quiet hum.
Oh, no.Reed is a little too comfortable with this situation. It only fuels my panic more.
“Good morning,” he murmurs, his voice heavy with sleep. He plants a kiss on my shoulder. “Last night was fun.”
“Yeah,” I say carefully. “It was.”
Now that the haze of the party has worn off, I feel awkward in his arms.
Maybe he’ll leave soon,I think to myself.Then I can get my shit back together.
Just as I have this thought, Reed rolls me over to face him. He smiles, then goes in for another kiss. Even though I’m sober now, every inch of my body feels electric as soon as our lips meet.
If he were anyone else, I wouldn’t regret it. I’m aware of how hot he is—I always have been, painfully so. He’s so out of my league, it’s ridiculous. And in the moment, it doesn’t even make me feel self-conscious, because when he’s kissing me… well, it’s hard to think about anything else.
But still, I have to keep my wits about me. I break the kiss, moving away from him and sliding out of the bed. I almost trip over the sheets, and shame sends a flash of heat through my face.
Oh, shit. I hope I’m not blushing. Please, don’t let him see me blushing.
He watches me, propped up on one elbow. His gaze moves over me; he seems almost thoughtful. The close scrutiny only makes me flush even more.
“What?” I demand, holding the sheets up to my body.
“I have a proposition for you,” he says. “I thought of it last night.”
“Oh, yeah?”I have a proposition for you, too,I think.You leave my apartment, we pretend that this never happened, and we try to keep things as normal as?—
“We both have a problem right now, and we have each other’s solution,” he says. “I can end your financial troubles for good, and all you have to do is pretend to be my fiancé for six months.”
He says it so seriously, and it’s so abrupt, that for a moment, I’m just stunned. I stare at him, dumbfounded.
He raises an eyebrow. “What do you say?”
I take a second, wrapping my head around the sheer ridiculousness of his suggestion. Then I burst out laughing.
His eyes widen, and I can see the protest in his expression. I turn away before he can say anything else, heading to the bathroom. That cold shower is sounding good right about now. While I’m in there, maybe Reed can sober up a little bit, and then we can have a normal conversation.
Unfortunately, he doesn’t let it go. He follows me into the bathroom. He doesn’t leave, either, even as I start the water in the shower. He lingers next to the sink, watching me.
“I’m serious,” he says.
“I know,” I reply, still chuckling to myself. “That’s what’s so funny about it.”
I step into the shower, letting the cool water run through my hair and over my shoulders. It’s a bit awkward—he stands there, his eyes on me, and I feel vulnerable under his gaze—but I do my best to ignore it.
“Listen,” he says, “I wasn’tthatdrunk last night, and neither were you. This is a decent idea, okay? You just have to hear me out.”
“Hear you out?” I roll my eyes. “I was drunk enough last night to make at least one messy decision. Now you want me to be yourfake fiancée?Why?”
