Page 51 of Worth Every Moment

My mouth drops open, and at my evident shock his grin breaks wide.

I sit up too and cross my arms over my chest. “Stop it. Be serious.”

He settles his features. “So, celibacy for the duration then?”

“Yes.”

“Okay,” he says without missing a beat.

I pull back, blinking at him. “Okay?

“That’s what I said.”

“So you’d give up sex to fake date me?”

“Yes.” His expression mellows and he tilts closer as if about to share a secret. “If I were committed to you, fake or otherwise, I’d never look at anyone else.”

My pulse quickens. Hearing those words, in that deep, serious tone, unsettles me more than if he’d made another crass joke. “Great,” I say, hoping he didn’t notice my reaction. “If we’re going to do this, you need to devote yourself to me, and me alone.”

He raises a lazy palm. “I get it—”

“Do you? Because you cannot fuck with my reputation. I do not mess about.”

Lying back on the grass, he puts one hand behind his head again. “There is no issue here. I’m all yours for three months. I’ll be very convincing.” A hint of his mischievous smirk appears. “Plus, I already know what you taste like, so if anyone asks—”

I lunge at him, clapping a hand over his mouth, but it’s so impulsive that I hadn’t thought it through. I’m nearly lying on him, his breath hot and damp against my palm, his large hand sliding over my lower back. My thoughts scatter like dominoes, piecing themselves back together in a pattern I don’t want, but can’t resist.This feels good. This is wrong. I’m excited. Our eyes lock, igniting a fire beneath my skin. I must look horrified because Seb’s blue eyes flash with amusement, cracking the energy that held us bound, and something wet and warm licks the palm I have smacked over his mouth.

His tongue.

I leap back, wiping my hand furiously on my dress, but unable to ignore the relief that he’s given me an excuse to break free of his embrace.If he hadn’t licked my hand, what would I have done? What would have happened?My heart crashes against my ribcage. “Gross. You are such a child. I can’t believe I’m even contemplating trusting you with something this important.”

His grin widens. “I promise I’ll treat your reputation the way I’d treat your heart.”

“Stomp all over it?” I waggle my head to let him know I’m joking. I don’t really think he’d do that. Not on purpose, at anyrate. In spite of all our ups and downs, he’s always been a good friend to me, and I hope I’ve been one to him too.

He gives me a dismissive frown. “No. Treasure it and keep it close to mine.” Pressing a hand over his heart, a teasing gleam appears in his eyes and he adds, “obviously.”

His words raise a swirl of emotion and I blow out a quick breath to release the tension. He sounds like he’s joking, but the conflict of wanting it to be real, and hating that it’s all part of this pretense he’s concocted, is too much to contain. I grab a fistful of grass and throw it in his face, making him splutter and spit out the blades that find their way into his mouth. Seeing him so discomposed makes me laugh, and when he laughs too as he wipes his mouth on the back of his hand, I feel giddy.

“So,” he says when he’s cleared the grass from his lips. “Is this happening or not?”

“Yes. But we need to make a real splash. Very public. Very showy.” Seb winces, but he said he’d do anything, and I am taking him at his word. “And I have the perfect idea.”

17

SEB

When I said I’d do anything for her, I hadn’t anticipated what Erica might ask of me. But I’m nothing if not faithful to my word, so here I am, standing in the middle of a huge photographer’s studio that feels more like a warehouse and is teaming with people, waiting for her to show up.

I’veagreed to pose with her for the launch of her new fragrance. This is likely to be the biggest launch of a temporary fake relationship ever.

In all honesty, I’d hoped for simpler pleasures. To take her out to a restaurant. To hold her hand in public. To listen to her laugh as we walk along the river, just the two of us. To dance with her at parties. To do regular things that we might do if this relationship was real. Things I’ve longed to do with her for years and never been able to. Not pose for photographs that will be seen by millions of people.

It’s a harsh reminder that this is all for show, and Erica has gripped matters the way she would any other business opportunity: with a calculating exactitude that lacks any romance.

My phone buzzes in my pocket and I pull it out and open the one word message.

Discretion.