Page 5 of MOM

I meet his gaze head-on. "No. There's a factory in Idaho that churns them out."

His eyes narrow slightly, and one side of his mouth hitches. "You don't say."

"Actually…" I lift my chin. "I have someone in mind."

3

Rocky

"Hi. I'm Zane. Nice to meet you."

The long-haired guy sticks his hand out, and I shake it. Gently. Lesson learned on that front. I forget my own strength sometimes.

Decker, dressed impeccably, stands next to him, so I reply with a cordial, "I'm Rocky. Nice to meet you, too."

When he told me he had someone in mind to fake date, I was hoping the next word out of his mouth would be "Me."

Instead, it's Zane Matthews, his best friend. A nice-looking tall guy with long dark-blond hair and a friendly smile.

But he's not Decker.

It's three days after my initial meeting with him, and I've been holed up in my house with news vans and paparazzi still lining the street, pissing off my neighbors no end. Having coffee and artisanal salads delivered to their houses daily is starting to wear thin, I suspect, but what else can I do? This scandal isn't blowing over like all the others did.

I turn and greet Decker. "Good to see you again."

"You, too," he says, wearing a polished smile. "Can we come in?"

Always so professional, and wearing the shit out of a black merino tee with dark jeans and Chelseas.

"Of course." I swing the door open and follow them into my living room. "Can I get you anything? Water? Pop? Chicken and rice?"

Decker tries to hide his smile by turning away. Zane looks plain confused by my joke.

"We're good," Decker replies, sitting down at one end of the sofa.

He looks even hotter and more intriguing today than he did in the meeting room. His pale complexion offset by his dark top and the prettiness of his sun-kissed champagne curls and glacier-blue eyes sit in stark contrast to his pressed-flat lips, set jaw, and composed expression.

Despite the shitshow engulfing me, I haven't been able to get him out of my mind. The way he commands a room, his bold-faced audacity to take on my crew and kick them out, the meticulous level of detail in his report that I've read three times over, cover to cover. Dude is a powerhouse.

Not to mention he'sgorgeous.

And the fact that he only comes up to my chest? Icing on the freaking cake.

"Let's get down to business…" Decker rattles off the backstory he's come up with for Zane's and my relationship. We met at the gym. Started off as friends. Bonded over being two small-town boys living in LA. Kept a low profile because we both value privacy.

This whole thing feels ridiculous, but if it gets me back to competing, then I'll do it. The internal MoM review found nothing, no malicious intent on my part. It's the damn FCC review that's taking forever. MoM isn't a huge federation, so if they get slapped with a multimillion-dollar fine, they're good as gone. Which means I won't just be responsible for ending my own career, I'll be taking down hundreds of competitors and hardworking event staff with me. Kinda got a lot on the line here, which means I'll do whatever it takes.

Even fake a relationship with a stranger.

"Now, to get started, I need to establish what sort of chemistry you two have," Decker says, his blue eyes darting between Zane and me.

Zane takes that as an invitation to stand up and walk over to me.

"Rocky, if you could get up, too, please."

"What are we doing?" I ask, pushing to my feet.

"Establishing a connection," says the guy who I'd like to be establishing a connection with.