Page 63 of Cinderella Is Faking It

“You- wha-” Her mouth dropped open. “Seriously?”

“Sometimes.” I shrugged.

“Huh.” Her brows danced through a row of thoughts and emotions as she closed the door to the bathroom, but all I felt was relief easing through my chest. I’d clearly hurt her last night when I botched the kiss, but Blondie was still curious enough about sex not to bolt.

Kissing is too romantic. Sex is sex.

I couldn’t have her thinking that this was just about sex for me. I had to show her that this thing between us went beyond helping her through all the anxieties that kept her from climaxing.

Dumb mistakes called for drastic measures.

* * *

“I can’t goin there with you,” Del said as she got out of the car and blinked up at the Axent HQ on the other side of the street. “It’s okay that we hang out, but I can’t risk rumors of any business deals between us.”

“Don’t worry.” I placed my hands on her shoulders and turned her 180 degrees. “We’re going in there.”

“A gym?” She tilted her head back and grimaced at me. “Sorry to break it to you, but I burn all my calories by stress-pacing.”

I pressed my lips into a tight smile to stop myself from suggesting some calorie-burning exercises that could make her uncomfortable. I’d pieced together that she wasn’t the athletic type. Her body was all soft dips and smooth curves. Even when she’d clung to me while dreaming, her muscle definition was basically non-existent. “Don’t worry,” I said instead of telling her what the perfect curve of her thigh had done to me that morning, because this wasn’t about sex, “I’m not going to make you get in the ring.”

“In the ring?”

I opened the door to the Vortex for her. The screeches of two dozen girls crashed over us the second we stepped inside. The young woman at the counter looked up, spotted me, and just gave a small wave before turning back to the computer she was working on.

“Michelle,” I greeted her, and her head snapped up again, confused. “Could you unlock the shop for us?”

“Oh. Uh. Sure, Mr. Beckett.” She pulled a huge key chain from her pocket to unlock the glass door behind the reception area. I hit a light switch, and the small shop stacked with workout gear came to life.

“I need more information,” Del whispered as I directed her forward and angled for the women’s section. She narrowed her eyes at a pair of boxing gloves and kneaded her hands in front of her. Uncomfortable, but not trying to ground herself yet. At least that’s what I figured the pinching was for. Trying to keep herself in the moment rather than losing herself in her thoughts.

“You can’t wear your regular shoes in the gym,” I explained, “the dirt and gravel mess up the equipment.”

“Oh, okay. You just want me to pick out shoes? I can do that.” She slipped past me to where boxes of trainers were lined up.

A few minutes later, Del had settled on a purple pair of running shoes and a rainbow set of sports socks to go with them. I’d also thrown a tie-dye blue yoga set into the mix because her eyes kept flicking to it. We left all the tags with Michelle at reception, and I told her to put it on my account. Del protested for all of ten seconds until I told her that I could send her the invoice if she insisted. I wouldn’t, but I didn’t want to derail the evening by discussing financial principles, sexism, and social conventions - all of which were probably racing through her thoughts.

Brody barreled towards us the second we stepped out from the changing rooms. My niece wrapped Del in a tight hug before she could have even realized what was happening. “I can’t believe you’re actually real,” Brody squealed, tightening her arms enough to make Del gasp for air.

“Brody,” I sighed, “this is Cordelia Montgomery.”

“Call me Del,” she huffed when Brody loosened her grip.

“Del, that’s my niece, Brody.”

“He usually calls you Blondie, not Del.” Brody pointed at me, grinning her troublemaker grin.

“I know,” Del shot me a look over her shoulder, a mix of amusement and surprise in her smile, before turning back to Brody, “He’s impervious to manners.”

“Impervious. Big word. Amazing.” Brody clapped her hands together. “You’ll be perfect.”

“What?” Del laughed but Brody turned on her heels and waved us toward her spot at the back of the gym.

“To Brody my life is just a casting show to find the perfect aunt,” I explained with my voice lowered, one hand on the small of her back as I directed her forward. “She’ll interrogate you all night.”

“Can’t wait,” Blondie muttered under her breath.

Del offered to film Brody’s training session, and I lost both of them the second Brody pressed her phone into Del’s hands. Her phone case was covered in stickers, and one of them was a quote from some costume drama about a viscountess in desperate need of a husband. Which both of them were apparently obsessed with. Brody got all of three kicks in before she turned back to Del. “Okay, but don’t you think Charles would be a much better fit for Minnie? Henry is so boring.”