Page 47 of Surprisingly Us

“Rhys, are you back in the city for good?”

“Colette, how long have you and Rhys been dating?”

I’m so confused by what is happening that I can’t even react.

Rhys possessively wraps his arm around my waist and without a word to the cameramen, he guides me into the restaurant.

“What was that about?” I ask once we’re inside.

“Nosy photographers.”

“I mean this in the kindest way, but why would they be following you?”

He gives me a cheeky grin. “Gee thanks, Princess. You really know how to deflate a guy’s ego.”

I lift my brows, ready for him to answer the question.

“I honestly don’t know. I’m entertaining, I guess.”

After checking in with the host, they take us to a table toward the back of the restaurant. It’s quiet and secluded. The moment I sit down across from Rhys, the heat starts crawling up my neck.

“It’s happening.” I wave a hand over the hot rash flaring up on my neck.

“Okay. Don’t stress.”

My eyes widen in disbelief. “That’s easy for you to say.”

“We can figure this out together.”

“There’s nothing to figure out. I can’t do this this. We should leave before my body turns into one giant splotch.”

“You were fine when I picked you up and although a bit nervous, you were okay on my bike, so what was the trigger?”

“I don’t know? This situation.” I gesture between us. “Me sitting across from you. I don’t know why I thought it would be different with you. Clearly, my body doesn’t know the difference between fake dating and real dating. It’s stressed about this either way.”

“So, it’s because I’m sitting across from you?”

“Yes! No! I don’t know. Maybe.”

“Okay,” he looks around the restaurant, “we can figure this out.”

“Let’s just go.”

Rhys stands up and takes my hand. “Come on.”

But we don’t walk toward the exit. Instead, he points us toward the bar where there are a few stools open next to each other.

“Can we sit here?” he asks the bartender, pointing at the open seats.

“Help yourself.”

He pulls out one of the low-back stools for me, then takes the one beside it.

“Problem solved. Now I’m not staring at you from across the table.”

I lean against the back rest and press a hand to my chest. It’s still red and splotchy, but I’m already more at ease. I turn to glance at Rhys’s profile. He studies the menu before he sets it down to take a drink of the water the bartender set down a moment ago.

“Thank you.”

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