Page 18 of Undeniably Unexpected (Boston’s Irresistible Billionaires #6)

I shift to face her. “I don’t know,” I tell her truthfully.

“I just am. In my gut this feels like the right decision. I’ll still get my mental clarity.

I’ll still write my words if I can. I’ll still make a decision about my future.

And I’ll still keep my heart on lockdown.

But while I do all that, I can help a guy and his little boy who are struggling.

And what difference does it make to me if the world thinks he’s my boyfriend?

I mean, truly? The only thing it’ll do is get rid of Alden.

The press will be all hot to go, but unless they try to follow us to the Key we’re staying on—if they are able to find us there in the first place since it belongs to Uncle Kap and we’ve told no one other than the people in the room tonight where I’m going—there won’t be much negative for me with this. ”

“Let’s hope not, babe. Let’s fucking hope not.”

An hour later, I’m zipping up my suitcases, feeling pretty good all things considered, when my phone vibrates from my nightstand.

It’s been doing that a lot tonight, and after talking to my parents for half an hour, I think I’m phoned out.

While they didn’t encourage me to get back together with Alden, they felt it deserved more thought before I cast him out of my life for good.

That and they don’t like that I’m going to Uncle Kaplan’s place with a man whose face is on every news, entertainment, and social media platform out there.

I get that. That part of this is certainly no one’s favorite.

I know they think I’m making a mistake, and maybe I am.

Maybe this will turn into that. Especially since we don’t know who tipped off the press.

But right now, the decision to bring Loomis and Fenric along was surprisingly easy.

My phone buzzes again, and I sigh. I should have put it on Do Not Disturb.

I get up to do just that when I discover it’s Loomis texting.

Loomis: I can’t stop thinking about our conversation tonight and if you were serious or not. You ran out so quickly, and I want to make sure this is what you want.

Loomis: Please tell me to fuck off before I figure out how to get my hands on baby swim costumes, sun cream, and hats.

Me: But think of how cute you’ll look in them.

Loomis: Ha! You’re a laugh riot. So you are serious?

As in you’re of sound mind and body when you agree to take Loomis Powell and his son Fenric Powell to some random home and be my fake girlfriend until such a time as you decide you’ve had it and officially break up with me?

Again, because I believe you’ve already done that once.

I can’t help but laugh. I get the impression he rambles a bit when he’s excessively nervous.

Me: Yes. Do you need me to sign a contract?

Loomis: I’ll take your word. And thank you, Keegan. As always, I’m blown away by how incredible you are.

Loomis: Forgetting contracts, should we still make some rules? Things you want or don’t want from me?

Me: I think we both know what it is and what it isn’t. Separate bedrooms, space when we both need it, no funny business.

Loomis: Absolutely none. That’s imperative because, truth be told, I don’t get involved with women, and I’d only end up hurting you. I’m not saying this to be cruel or hurtful, I’m saying this because that’s something I’d never want, and I know myself.

A rock drops into my stomach. I suppose I shouldn’t be shocked by this.

It’s not as if I didn’t already know. He never has girlfriends, and considering how closely I used to follow him online, I’ve never seen pictures of him with the same woman twice.

For a while after I went to see him in LA, I was bitter that nothing happened between us.

That he didn’t want me, even for a hookup. Now, I’m so relieved he didn’t.

He respected me enough not to do anything then, and it’ll be the same now. I’ll be fine. We’ll be fine.

It’s a relief he’s not expecting anything to happen.

Me: Same, so I’m great with this.

Loomis: I’ll even do my best not to look at you in your swimming costume or imagine you in the next room. We’ll be totally and completely platonic.

Me: I can’t tell if you’re being facetious or not.

Loomis: Not. I mean, not entirely. I might sneak a peek and have a fantasy or two, but I am a man, and that can’t be helped.

The thought of Loomis having a fantasy about me and getting off to it…

Me: But we won’t act on it.

Loomis: No matter what.

Me: Then I’ll see you at the airport tomorrow around noon.

Loomis: See you then. And Keegan? Thank you. I’ll be a broken record with that, but no one’s ever put themselves on the line for me like this, and words can’t express my gratitude.

Me: I’m glad I’m able to help.

I set my phone on Do Not Disturb but decide to check my email one last time and practically gasp when I find the contract from my attorney and the publisher ready for my signature.

My hands tremble and my lip quivers. I stare balefully down at my wrist. I’m so dependent on my right hand for everything.

If I do this, if I sign this contract and take on these books, I’ll likely have to tell Loomis about what I’m doing.

That part doesn’t bother me so much. He’ll keep my secret, and I just have to hope he doesn’t judge me for what I write.

No, it’s what happens to me if I sign this.

If I become a traditionally published author under contract with hard deadlines instead of thinking of this as a hobby.

Can I still practice medicine and do this too? Will I be able to make these deadlines without going crazy and mentally taxing myself to the breaking point? And how much longer can I keep it a secret from the rest of my family and colleagues? From the world?

Then there’s what I’m venturing into with Loomis.

I’m in a fake relationship with a famous movie star.

A movie star who has a son from a woman we don’t know, and now the world is in on it. Now I’m in on it. The press sleeping in the bushes in front of my building are proving that.

I sigh and set my phone down. I’ll read over the contract on the plane tomorrow, and I guess I’ll have to sign it. Right? It’s what I want, isn’t it?

Do I even know what I want?

All these major life events are happening at once, many of them conflicting, roads converging and crossing over one another. Can I take the road less traveled by as Robert Frost said? And if I do, how will there not be an impact? How can I not be setting myself up for one hell of a collision?