Page 101 of Love Arranged

“Why’d you change?” he asks softly, talking like I do to scared animals in the shelter. Fitting because I feel like a cornered one.

I stand up. “You know what? I am in the mood to dance.” I pause before adding, “Alone.”

I join a circle of women on the dance floor who I recognize from the running club I was a part of. Lorenzo’s eyes burn a hole into my back as I sway to the music, and I allow myself one single glance over my shoulder to confirm what I already know.

I catch him staring at me while sipping his drink, and I return his burning gaze with a smile before looking away.

With every song, I make more of an effort to push all thoughts of Lorenzo away, only for a pair of familiar hands to find the curve of my waist and pull me backward until I’m separated from the group.

“You’re a tease,” Lorenzo whispers, his voice thick with arousal.

“I’m just dancing,” I say innocently.

“Then go ahead anddance.” He spins me around, his grip punishing as he closes the little gap between our bodies. His thick erection presses into my belly, and my eyes go round.

“I’m waiting,” he taunts, his tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip.

One glance into his cloudy eyes full of promise has me shutting my own, and I lose myself in the music—in the feel of Lorenzo’s hands on my hips, matching my rhythm with his own.

His ability to dance was one of the initial things that caught me by surprise on the night we first met. He never mentioned it before, so when he found me on the dance floor, I was shocked to learn that the man behind the neon blue mask managed to find the beat to any song and dance in a way that captivated me.

When his mouth starts to follow a path down my throat, I tremble in his arms.

It’s an uncontrollable response, and one I don’t want him reading into, so before he can see the emotions written across my face, I twist around and press my back against his front.

None of this is real.

Our bodies mold together, moving in perfect synchronicity. One of his hands splays across my stomach and secures me to his front while the other brushes my hair away from my shoulder so he can drop another kiss.

Let them wish they were going home with the most beautiful woman in this bar—in thistown—for all I care. I’ve been there. Many times, in fact, when it comes to you.

Is that what he’s doing right now? Or is he simply putting on a show for everyone else around us?

It’s unfair, the way my body reacts to his, so I decide to fight fire with fire and spin around, returning his searing kisses and warm touches with my own until we’re both staring up at each other with our hearts beating in perfect, erratic harmony.

His gaze drops to my mouth, and my lips tingle in anticipation.

It hits me that IwantLorenzo to kiss me—not for appearance’s sake but because I crave to have his mouth pressed to mine again.

And that right there is why I can’t go through with it. Not when the line between real and fake is so blurred, I can’t tell reality apart from fiction.

When he dips his head forward and shuts his eyes, I turn mine at the last second so he ends up kissing my cheek instead.

His eyes snap open, and for once the unwavering control he has over his emotions drops long enough for me to see the sting of rejection in his gaze.

I hope he spends the entire drive home wishing I let him kiss me.

I hope he thinks of me when he gets home, especially whenhe climbs into bed all alone tonight with nothing but his hand to keep him company.

I hope his decision to push me away haunts him and that his regret grows with every fake date we have, until he resents every choice he’s made which led us here.

23

LILY

I’ve given my sister plenty of time to stew in her emotions before I decide to approach her and get this awkward conversation out of the way. Giving her space was a given since she spent most of our time apart out of town for a few work projects and filming some content for her show, but I’ve had enough.

I miss Dahlia, and I don’t want a guy to get between us ever again.