Page 112 of Dream On

Lex resituates beside me, the wipe sliding down the length of my arm.“That’ll never happen again,” he grits out, discarding the used wipe and reaching for another. “Promise you.”

I’m still a shivering, soaked mess as we roll up to his condominium minutes later. Lex helps me from the limo, draping himself over me again as we move toward the main doors. Blocking me from prying eyes and curious fans. Half carrying me through the entrance.

He doesn’t let me go until we’re safely inside his condo.

Chapter 28

Stevie

Lex rummages around the refrigerator for snacks the following evening as I shuffle past him, freshly showered and dressed in a pajama set featuring happy-faced cows. The tank top is small on me, showing off a sliver of skin on my abdomen, while the baggy bottoms hug my hips. I’ve been too embarrassed to wear these in front of him, but considering he saw me in a far worse state yesterday, covered head to toe in someone else’s Starbucks order, my dignity has been put on the back burner for the time being.

“Hey.” I hesitate at the edge of the living room, watching as he stares into the open fridge, waiting for items to magically appear. The world outside his enormous sprawl of windows is dark and star-freckled, capturing my attention for a moment before I swivel back to Lex. “The photos with Billy dropped this afternoon. They look good, don’t you think?”

He blinks into the muted light, a frown marring his brow line. “Mm-hmm.”

“I think we sold it. No one would ever guess we were faking it.”

The photos did turn out great. Incredible, in fact. The one of us almost kissing made it to the front cover ofPeoplemagazine, the image of our barely locked lips lining the shelves at every major retailer. Joplin, Misty, and my parents all sent me photographs taken from stores back home, including an influx of fainting, melting, and shocked-face emojis.

We looked like a real Hollywood power couple.

Nodding absently, Lex closes the fridge, finding nothing of value. “Yeah.”

“Okay, um…” God, this is painful. Yesterday, we were glued together, every part of us touching intimately, completely, for the cameras. Then he held me in his arms, tenderly cleaned me off in the back of a limousine, and promised he’d never let anyone hurt me. And now he’s a stranger again. “Well…good night.”

I turn to leave, dejected, my thoughts at war.

“Want to have a drink?”

My feet come to an abrupt stop. I glance over at Lex as he stalks over to the minibar off the main room, then drags a finger along a series of high-end liquor bottles. Hands turning clammy, I link them together in front of me as I dally near the staircase, a response elusive.

Lex pivots to look at me, his eyes taking in my pajamas. “Are you a vodka girl?”

“Um…sure.” Truthfully, I’m not much of a drinker. Ever since Natalie’s party that night, I’ve stayed away from it, and even after I turned twenty-one a few months ago, I only partake in the occasional glass of wine or flute of champagne. The one time I was intoxicated, I tried to kiss a boy who didn’t want me, and then I almost got a DUI for lying about an accident I didn’t cause in a car I wasn’t driving.

But we’re not going anywhere.

More importantly…we’renot going anywhere.

So why the hell not?

“Want any mixers?” Glassware clinks as he bends down, opening the veiled minifridge underneath. “I’ve got soda water. Red Bull. Cranberry juice.”

“Juice works.”

He makes the cocktails in silence. Soft moonlight spills in through the wall of glass, accentuating the monochrome space.

I clear the hitch from my throat and head to the sectional, taking a seat as he walks over and hands me the drink. “Thanks.” I take a small sip; it’s strong.

Lex settles in beside me with his own glass of amber liquid over ice, leaving a gap between us. “Have you recovered from yesterday?”

I lean back and take another sip, feeling the heat glide down my throat and sprinkle fireworks across my chest. My mind races with images of his hands allover me, his mouth a millimeter from mine, the stormy look in his eyes that could compel ocean waves to swell and churn.

Then I realize he’s referring to the coffee incident. I rub my lips together. “Sure. I’m considering it a work hazard.”

“You handled it well.” He takes a drink, ice cubes tinkling.

“Has that ever happened to you?”