Page 46 of All of You

“I’m pretty sure kissing is a normal part of any relationship.” I inched a little closer, watching her, waiting.

One of her dark brown brows raised, then lowered as she looked up at me again. “I don’t want you to feel pressured about this. I’m ready to?—”

“I’m fine. I promise you I’ll tell you if something happens I’m not okay with. But I have a stipulation.”

I searched her face, the tension in it obvious. Her mouth was pressed into a thin line, hiding her plush lips. Her jaw seemed hard, making that line I’d like to study up close more vivid.

She cleared her throat. “What’s that?”

Where I got the boldness, I’d never know, though I was glad for it.

“I don’t want our first real kiss to be in front of a bunch of strangers and cameras.”

Her eyes fluttered, and adrenaline shot through me as though it hadn’t been cranking already.

“It’ll look forced, maybe even look like a first kiss. It shouldn’t look that way… it should look practiced, and?—”

“I see what you’re saying. I do. Okay, so let’s… I guess we should practice.”

That voice. It wrapped around me like a silk robe, not something I'd ever thought about wearing or touching or being wrapped around me, but that was her voice.

All I could do was nod. No way I’d kiss her now, even though she stood right there, looking up at me, the neck of her T-shirt sliding off one shoulder.

She cleared her throat again—wait, was that a nervous tick?

“Okay, well, we probably better get dressed. The cocktail thing is at five.”

“Okay. I’ll be ready.”

CHAPTER TWENTY

Whit

I’d be honored to kiss you.

It wouldn’t be a burden, I can tell you that.

Oh, honey, did I know what he was talking about.

I would have kissed Ben Holder the night I met him if he hadn’t been such a wreck. I say that with all the possible compassion my heart can summon, because more than anything, that night, he’d needed a hug. I hadn’t given him that, either.

And now, every time I saw him, it was like he was a giant magnet and I was steel, feeling drawn and pulled and urged toward him regardless of what lay between us.

Let’s be honest about that—a lot lay between us.

First, I was one of the most famous people in the US, maybe the world.

Second, I wasn’t great at focusing on anything other than my career. And by wasn’t great, I meant I never had done much of anything but think about me and my career—not since I was a teen, and even then, my focus had been on music. I’d certainly never factored in another person.

Third, he had no idea what he wanted—Army, or not?

My heart of hearts told me he’d end up staying—patently incompatible with my lifestyle.

And we couldn’t forget the whole contracted to be my fake boyfriend thing, though a not-small part of me whispered several hundred times a day, “What if he was your actual boyfriend?”

That part of me was what had me telling Amanda to hold off on the lip. “Just wait. I need to go talk to Ben. Can you do it last, right before we leave?”

She eyed me, a knowing look passing between us. I had very few secrets from Amanda, and this wasn’t one. She’d figured out I had more than a casual, business interest in Ben, and she’d declared in no uncertain terms that she was all for it. No way could I have avoided her knowing about the contract, both because she was practically the person I was closest with in this life, and also because she was incredibly observant. “It’ll make you human,” she’d said.

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