Page 15 of The Pursuit of Happiness (Satan’s Angels #2)

“Rap, classical, jazz, rock of course. I like everything but country,” he explains, a sudden seriousness in his tone.

I nod, “I can get on board with that. I hate country. Ivory likes it and she tries to play it around me sometimes and I have to actually threaten her life to make it stop.”

He laughs and gives me a look that makes my breath catch, “It seems we have something in common then. Aside from the fact we’re in bands.”

“And the fact that we like the color blue,” I add, a playful lilt to my voice.

He tilts his head at me and gives me a questioning look and I answer it with, “Your car. I assumed blue was your favorite color when I saw it.”

He shakes his head, laughing to himself about something I doubt he’ll share with me before he turns back to face the road.

I want to ask him what’s so funny and what he isn’t telling me but just as I’m about to do so, he parallel parks the car right outside the shop.

“We’re here,” he announces. He puts the car in park and shuts the engine off before opening his door.

When he sees that I’m about to open mine he shoots a hand out to stop me and I instantly freeze, “Don’t.

I got it.” He quickly ushers himself out of the car and around to my side.

I don’t know if I should be flattered because he’s a gentleman or neutral because this is part of the role he’s playing as my fake boyfriend. Part of me wants it to be the former…

I scold myself internally for letting myself have my guard so low. I’m supposed to hate him considering he’s partly to blame for this mess, but then he goes and smiles at me with that stupid boyish smile and his stupid perfect face. Ugh.

My door opens while I’m still internally battling my libido with no success and Sly reaches a hand out for me to grab.

I immediately catch sight of paparazzi behind him flashing their cameras and shouting out questions.

Sly ignores them with no effort but for me, it’s a little harder to pretend they don’t exist when I hear them talking about the tape.

I shake it off and grab Sly’s hand, allowing him to help me out of the car.

He places his hand on the small of my back to guide me into the store, his body close enough to mind that the paparazzi won’t see my face because his body is shielding it.

I feel grateful to him that he’s keeping me out of their view all while ensuring they still get their pictures of us as Selene requested.

He must have seen it all on my face earlier or just known somehow, but I feel grateful nonetheless.

My skin feels warm through my top where his hand makes contact with my body and I feel my bones getting shaky.

Why do I react to him this way? He makes me feel like a teenager who’s crush looked at her in math class.

Just as I think I’ve gotten a grip on my hormones, he drops his hand and reaches for mine. I suck in a small breath, totally in shock because it doesn’t feel fake. It feels real and I’m not sure how I feel about that.

He opens the door for me and ushers me inside and immediately all of my wavering thoughts about Sly and his flirtatious personality vanish.

I’m exactly where I love to be, surrounded by trinkets and vintage items. My eyes land on a crystal, vintage looking trinket box that looks slightly tarnished, but right up my alley.

I walk over to it and immediately reach out, picking it up in my palms. Light reflects the crystal and creates a beautiful luminescent glow.

I immediately decide I need to buy it. I open it and peek inside to find it empty.

I don’t care because I plan on filling it with all of my rings and bracelets.

“Isn’t it so pretty?” I ask Sly, thinking he’s right behind me.

When he doesn’t answer, I look over my shoulder only to find he’s gone.

I scan the entire store looking for him and I find him at the register, his elbow resting on the glass and his body leaning into it.

He’s talking to the cashier or the shop owner, I’m not sure because she’s an older woman who holds an aura of confidence.

It almost looks like he’s flirting with her but I can’t be sure with him because the man just has the most flirtatious personality I’ve ever encountered.

The woman looks completely enamored by his perfect smile.

He slides something to her over the counter and I can’t see what it is.

I furrow my brows in confusion and as if feeling my stare, his eyes meet mine and his smile remains, beaming brighter than before as if that were even possible.

He mutters something quick to the woman before pushing off the counter and making his way back over to me. He spots the box in my hands and nods, “That’s cool.”

I look over his shoulder at the woman, “What was that about?” I have a bitter taste in my mouth as the words come out that almost feels like jealousy, but I’m not sure what I’m jealous of.

The woman is old and I doubt she’s Sly’s type and since when do I want his full attention?

I remind myself that he’s my fake boyfriend and he doesn’t owe me anything.

Still, I can’t help but feel a little jealous.

I just wish I knew why considering I hated his fucking guts just four days ago.

He looks over his shoulder to see what I’m talking about and when his eyes land on the woman, who is staring at us with a cute little smile, he waves at her and she waves back, “That’s Mary. She owns the place,” he explains.

He looks back at me and I raise a brow, “What were you talking about? Looked like a pretty interesting conversation.” I’m embarrassing myself and I know it. He definitely is catching on that I’m asking for no other reason than self interest.

As if he sees the ugly shade of green my skin is turning, he laughs, “Don’t worry about it. I’ll tell you later. For now,” he changes the subject as he grabs the box out of my hands, “Let me hold this while you continue looking around.”

I give him a suspicious look but decide to drop it. I turn around and refocus on the plethora of trinkets. I’m like a kid in a candy store, touching everything and trying to come up with its story even though every theory I have is fictional and most likely a figment of my imagination.

I keep looking around and catch a gleam out of the corner of my eye from the adjacent table.

I walk over, curiosity piqued and find a pair of vintage looking star earrings that immediately remind me of Brody.

I smile as I trace the shape with the tip of my finger.

I feel Sly close at my back, “You like those?”

“They remind me of Brody. I always get little gifts for the girls and Selene when I’m vintage shopping, and these,” I continue as I pick up the pair of earrings, “I will be buying for Brody.”

“That’s nice of you to think of them,” he grins warmly.

I can’t help but smile back. Talking about my friends makes me happy, what can I say?

It definitely isn’t the heat I feel rising in my cheeks when he looks at me the way he’s looking at me right now and it surely can’t be the scent of him, tobacco and vanilla, a smell I want more of but know I shouldn’t. I force my eyes back down and continue.

About thirty minutes later, I find pink vintage perfume bottles that I know Ivory would love to display on her vanity and an antique bust statue of lady justice, perfect for Selene.

Sly questions the last one but shrugs after I explain that Selene is a lawyer and planned to be a practicing corporate lawyer until we completely tossed her shit upside down and begged her to manage us.

Whatever! She makes more money managing us anyway, and besides, she still gets to sue people. All. The. Time.

When we go to check out, I hand the older woman who was previously talking to Sly my card but she gives Sly a knowing look over my shoulder and refuses my payment. “No, I have to pay,” I explain, confused that she’s adamant about not charging me.

She waves me off, “Everything was already paid for, honey.”

I stiffen, totally confused. My brows crease in the middle, “What? By who?”

She looks at Sly over my shoulder and that’s when it all starts to make sense.

He wasn’t flirting it up with her before.

He was putting everything on his card and telling her to charge him and not me for everything that I bought.

That’s also what he was referring to when he said he would “tell me later.” That sneaky little shit.

I give him a glare, “Why did you do that?”

He smirks at me as he slings an arm over my shoulder and pulls me into his side, “Because I can.”

Exasperated, I try to pull away from him to argue, but he doesn’t let go. The older woman ignores us, wrapping my items up and putting them in a bag for me. “Sly, no. I can pay for my own stuff.”

Sly rolls his eyes, “Can’t I buy my girlfriend some vintage?”

My stomach drops at the sound of “my girlfriend” rolling off his tongue. For a second I’m fully convinced that he’s forgotten this is fake but then I remind myself that he’s a good actor. So good in fact that he had me convinced there for a second.

I’m about to open my mouth to argue when the older woman hands me my bag. Sly grabs it for me when I make no move to grab it, completely frozen in place. He winks at me and says goodbye to the owner before ushering us out of the store and back to the car, his arm still around me the entire time.

My jaw is practically on the floor. I’m in complete awe that he’s able to act like what’s between us isn’t entirely fake.

What’s worse is that I feel even more attracted to him than I was before.

My skin feels hot where his flesh meets mine and I have a swarm of butterflies batting their wings absolutely rampant in my stomach.

I feel heat in my lower belly and a slickness growing between my thighs.

Why does he have this effect on me? Fuck.