Page 5 of Yes, Love

I used to fill the house with hot, flirty men and jealous, backstabbing women. I’d outgrown that, too. Now I’d give anything to call Sienna over to watch cheesy rom coms and eat an entire bag of gummy bears. That sounded like fun. But she was probably busy at the bar tonight, living out her fairy tale with her very own prince charming.

Fairy tales weren’t for people like me. I’d screwed up too many times. I had too many skeletons in my closet.

Three

Dominic

I was supposed to publicly meet Ava Mills tonight and pretend to be mad about her. That was going to be a massive challenge. Never in my life would I choose to spend time with someone like her. She was blonde, loud, and more stuck up than real royalty. And I’d watched enough of her Youtube channel and TikToks to know there was nothing of substance in her head— not like Lucy. Lucy was as deep as she was beautiful.

How the hell had I let her get away?

I should have moved to LA sooner to be with her. Then she never would have met Will. I shouldn’t have begged her to stay in England with me. She’d always wanted to move to the States. I knew that from the first conversation we ever had on Wild Love. I still remembered that first chat. I remembered the way she smelled of sweet citrus and the way her smooth mocha-colored skin felt when I took her hand in mine.

My phone buzzed in my pocket, and I set my drink down to read the incoming message. It was Kitty. Ava’s about to walk in. Prepare to be AMAZED!

I had a laugh and slid my phone back into my pocket. I was supposed to spot Ava from across the crowded party and ask her to dance when she arrived. I made my way toward the entrance, ready to make my move. Several women tried to stop me and claim my attention, but I shook them off.

I hated these parties. At first, they were a bit of fun. The fame was exciting when Wild Love first aired, and when Lucy and I split, all the female attention was a brilliant distraction. Now, though, I’d tired of it all. I didn’t know why I even had a publicist anymore.

I did know why I’d agreed to this fake relationship, though, and it was petty. I hoped Lucy would see photos of Ava and me all over social media and get jealous.

When Ava arrived, nearly every eye landed on her. She did look stunning. She was dressed in a tight, black lace gown with a slit all the way up to her hip. Her golden waves were pinned to one side, and her face looked other-worldly with all of her makeup.

Ah. A fairy. That’s what she reminded me of — a sexy, evil little fairy.

Ava locked eyes with me and batted her long lashes, her blood-red lips curling into a smirk. Time to approach.

She turned to a man wearing a fedora and a suit jacket with no shirt and pressed a hand against his bare chest. Little flirt. She wasn’t supposed to make it so difficult for me. She was supposed to fall right into my hands and “make the sparks visible” in Jeanie’s words. I felt a flash of irritation and caught Ava’s free hand when I reached her. I tugged her away from the man and gave her my best flirty smirk. “Don’t waste your time there. I’m the one you want.”

Ava tipped her head back and let out her fake fairy laugh. “Oh, is that so? And you are?”

What a brilliant faker.

“Dominic Ellis. Shall we?”

She took the arm I’d extended and walked with me to the crowded dance floor. The lights were dim, blue, and headache-inducing. The music was loud and irritating.

“Aren’t you going to ask my name?” Ava asked in a sugary sweet voice.

“Don’t need to. I know all about you, Ava Mills.” I pulled her tightly against my body and gave her a teasing stare.

She broke character for a half-second and shot me an icy look. I’d already gotten under her skin the night we met by claiming to know everything about her. Maybe getting under her skin would be the only thing that made this arrangement enjoyable. I’d have to give it a go.

Ava slid her hands into my hair and bit her lip. She leaned in and lowered her voice so only I could hear her. “You’re not going to make this difficult, are you? Because I do have a temper, and I don’t want to be here any more than you do. I could walk out of this party with any guy, and he’d be fucking thrilled to be with me. I don’t need you.”

I smirked and slid my hand down to rest dangerously close to her arse. “Your publicist seems to think differently.”

Her eyes flickered again, and I could almost see the internal struggle. She wanted to swat my hand away and toss a drink in my face. But she did need me. Ava Mills had tarnished her reputation, and I was her white knight.

After a few songs, Ava took my hand and led me to a table off to the side, still in clear view of everyone at the party. “I don’t feel like dancing.” Her voice was low and quiet. Had I already gotten to her? Well, that was no fun. I’d hoped she’d be a little harder to crack. Now I had nothing but a boring evening ahead of me.

“So,” Ava gave me a sideways glance. “We might as well get to know each other a little if we’re going to have to spend time together.”

I nodded and leaned in to press a kiss at the nape of her neck when I noticed people watching. “Where were you born, Ava?” I asked and gave her a sexy smirk in case we still had an audience.

Ava bit her lip and leaned in, playing along. “LA. I hated it there.”

“Well, what do you know? We have one thing in common. I share your loathing of LA.”

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