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Decker sits beside me, none the wiser, as my parents congratulate him on a speech well done.

My mother slathers on how wonderful it is that he mentioned her beloved daughter in his acknowledgments.

Decker’s smile doesn’t falter, his words remain polite, but there’s an emptiness in his eyes as he responds.

He’s already tired of her, and he’s hardly even been around her since we began our arrangement.

Finally, Dad has the good sense to cut her off, thanking Decker for his dedication to the charity as he totes my mom off to chat with some table across the room.

A smile is cemented on my face as passersby shake Decker’s hand, patting him on the back, thanking him for being a “voice for the voiceless.” Of all the men I’ve dated—real or fake—none have been referred to as anything even remotely similar to that.

It makes him sound like some kind of vigilante superhero.

He’s humble as he accepts each compliment, and dare I say, he sounds modest .

Decker Trace, the guy whose ego and attempted humor gets under my skin, is actually modest. And charming.

Both of these I’ve experienced, but watching him now, I know for sure that I didn’t imagine it.

An older man with an impressive handlebar mustache shakes Decker’s hand, gives him a jolly pat on the back, and disappears back to his table as the next speaker is announced and emerges from the crowd.

Decker leans back, nodding to others as they compliment him from their tables and whisper about his job well done.

Finally, he turns my way and catches me staring, his mouth quirking into an irresistible grin meant just for me.

I can’t take it any longer. I seize the opportunity.

Tired of sharing him, I grab Decker’s hand and my clutch.

Before I lose my nerve, we zigzag between the tables, to the edge of the room, and through the closest exit.

“Where are you taking me?” he asks as we maneuver through the shadowy wings of the stage.

Though it’s been a while since I’ve performed here, I still remember the route. “I thought we could use some fresh air. Follow me.”

“It doesn’t seem like I have much of a choice.”

A minute later, we’re in the dark dressing room tucked behind the stage.

Since these are strictly reserved for performances, they’re empty tonight.

The space is totally blacked out, save for the red emergency lights casting a dull scarlet glow that reflects off the expansive vanity and rounded bulbs lining the long mirrored wall.

It’s a little eerie, and I grip Decker’s hand tighter as I fumble through the space looking for the lightswitch.

I find it and flip it. A vampiric hiss spouts from Decker before his hand comes down over the switch again, killing the overhead lights.

“You have to warn a guy. I think you burned my retinas, and the air is not fresher here.” He coughs dramatically.

“Baby.”

“I think you mean babe .”

I toss my clutch onto the countertop. “Can’t wait to finally hear the end of that.”

As soon as the words fly from my mouth, I regret them. If there’s anything I’ve come to realize lately, it’s that as much as I hate the whole nickname exchange, it hasn’t been as stomach-churning with Decker on the other end of it.

“What else can’t you wait for?” Decker asks, his voice lowering. I can’t interpret what he means in the dark. I’m not close enough to see the quirk of a brow, and it’s too dim to pick up on a glint in his eye. Did he mean that suggestively ? Or is that only my wishful—lustful—thinking?

Suddenly, the red light morphs into something more sexy than eerie, and I take advantage of it. I step closer, so close that I can smell the remnants of mint and champagne lingering on his mouth. He moves in too and my chest brushes his torso.

At the touch, I lose my gall, and turn to face one of the mirror-lined walls instead. “For starters, I can’t wait to have my time back to myself again.”

“You mean, to give your time back to your team?”

“To not have a tagalong anymore,” I continue on.

He moves swiftly, and soon he’s behind me. “You’ll miss me.”

“I won’t.” Not even I’m buying my comebacks. I step away until I almost crash into the vanity counter bordering the room. “You’re too cocky. It makes you sound delusional, you know that?”

“Getting what you want always takes a healthy dose of delusion. You of all people should know that.”

“I forgot how irritating you can be.”

“You like it.” He moves closer, backing me against the counter until I have nowhere to go.

In the red light, I can see the perfect outline of his face. His high cheekbones, his sloping nose, the curve of his lips. His hands come down on either side, pinning me in place until fighting this is the last thing I could ever want.

He hesitates, the silhouette of his throat bobbing in the dim light. “Tell me, am I delusional for wanting you?”

I long to tell him no, that he’s not, because I think I want him too. I think I more than want him. I think I want to love him, but I’m realistic, and because I know we have no future, I don’t say a single thing.

Instead, I throw my hands around his neck, lifting to my toes to feel his mouth against mine.

He meets my lips with the same urgency, satisfying the longing that’s cropped up inside while simultaneously leaving me craving more.

I’m insatiable as I greedily press my body against his, my fingers tangling in his hair.

Rough stubble rakes against my skin as velvety lips devour mine, the stinging sweetness a delicious contrast. His breath hitches when we come up for air, his forehead dipping to press against mine.

In a second flat, his fingers are trailing down to grip my hips, lifting me to sit on the counter at my back.

And then his mouth finds mine again, his hands coasting down my spine until they’re flattening into the surface on either side of my thighs.

I nip at his bottom lip as things heat up again, eliciting a low growl that lets me know he’s just as into this as I am.

My phone buzzes, emitting an obnoxious blue light from my open purse until it finally fades, but Decker isn’t deterred.

He slows the kiss, deepening it as his fingers come up to cradle my face.

His hands are strong and steady, and every bit as sweet as his mouth.

My phone vibrates again, this time aggressively enough to wiggle its way from my bag.

Decker stills as both of us come up for air, and I can’t help but to glance at my screen.

Of course my mother would be calling me right now.

“Ignore it.” Decker’s voice is husky. His mouth captures mine again as goosebumps prick up my arms.

I tilt my head back, breaking our kiss and staring at the red emergency light overhead. “Decker,” I manage to say as I catch my breath.

He doesn’t stop. He stays close, his nose grazing my cheek as he trails kisses along my jaw, sending me gasping for breath when he finds the sensitive spot on my neck that drives me wild. I giggle as my hand flies to cover it. Gently, he pries my fingers away.

I bite my lip as he lands on the spot again, but the incessant buzzing starts up once more, and I can’t help but to grab my phone. “Sorry, I just… I just want to make sure everything’s okay since we didn’t tell anyone we were leaving.”

“Oh, right. Forgot to ask your mom's permission to leave the table.”

I shoot him a glare I know he can’t see. “In case you forgot, this is technically a work function. My manager is allowed to be in the know.”

“Sorry, didn’t realize we’re on the clock.”

“Of course we are. A deal’s a deal. And right now, no one can see us.” I hold up my phone in his face. “At least someone is still thinking straight.”

“Who? Your mom?” He laughs. “You can tell yourself that, Lena, but I think we both know that excuse isn’t valid.”

“It’s not an excuse.”

“Just admit your mom still pulls all the strings—well, her and Antonia—and despite all the crap you said about doing this on your own terms, you still aren’t. You’re letting them yank you around like some demented puppet masters.”

His words have teeth, gnawing at me more than any of the other dumb things he’s ever said.

I suck in a deep breath, an attempt to steady my pulse that’s now soaring for an entirely different reason. “Maybe we should move this to somewhere more public. Since we’re on the clock .”

“I didn’t know you were into that sort of thing.”

I roll my eyes. “My life already lacks enough privacy as it is. Case and point, our deal. If we’re finishing strong tonight, I figured we’d go out with a bang.”

He chuckles.

I groan. “Not literally. I just thought you’d want to make sure you were seen with me one last time.”

He sucks in a ragged breath, leaning back to peer down at me in the crimson light. “Lena, if I never shared you with anyone again, I’d die a happy man.”

My stomach clenches. “That sounds a little dramatic.”

“It’s the only way I know how to say it.”

“Try again.” I poke him in the chest in an attempt to keep things light. Blood whooshes through my ears as I buy time from the words I can already sense forming on his lips.

“Lena, I’m falling in love with you.”

My mouth goes dry. I don’t know whether I should kiss him or laugh.

Is he serious? Of all the love confessions I’ve ever been on the receiving end of, this is the one I want to believe the most. And I do.

Because it’s Decker. Because I’ve never felt anything but comforted and cared for while with him.

The notion of him loving me is both exhilarating and terrifying.

Like clockwork, a phone begins to buzz, but this time it isn’t coming from my clutch.

Decker backs away, reaches into his pocket, and pulls out his phone. “How did your mom get my number?”

A lump builds in my throat. I want to be angry with her for interrupting us yet again, for calling him when she has no business doing so, but my weakness wins over, and I click to answer. “Hello?”

Decker backs away as my mother launches into some kind of scolding that I only partially hear because I can’t take my eyes off of Decker and the way he slumps in the dark.

“Really, Lena?” he whispers.

I pull the phone from my ear, pressing the mute button as I do. “I’m sorry. Too much hinges on tonight for me to ignore her calls.”

Decker shakes his head, ducking out the door without another word.