Page 35 of The Bad Boy's Fake Wife

“So neither of you voted that we’d still hate each other.”

Mia shakes her head. “Reed has always seen it too—the sexual tension between you all these years.”

“It’s not sexual tension!” I flush.

Mia rolls her eyes. “Well, whatever you want to call it. But anyway, he actually lost a bet that you’d hook up before you left for the big city. We’ve been trying to give the two of you some alone time, and it’s almost magical how this fake marriage came to be.”

I can’t believe it. Everyone saw this before I did, and now it’s crashing over me like a wave I never saw coming. How is it that the people close to me saw my attraction to Jonathan, but I never realized it? Is it possible that I confused a different emotion with hatred, or did I always just lie to myself that I wasn’t in love with him all my life?

“I’ll tell him today,” I say with finality. “We’ll see how things go, and I’ll tell you what happens later.”

Mia giddily jumps to her feet and claps. “Perfect!” She glances down at her watch. “Well, I have to check in at work for the day, just so my employees don’t forget who the boss is.”

We both laugh at that as I say, “It’s almost impossible for them to forget who the boss is—your shirt says it, after all.”

Mia poses before my vanity mirror, showing off her shirt, which really does have BOSS written on it in big, bold letters. Then she waves me goodbye and leaves me alone with my thoughts. The more I think of her words, the more I realize how much they sound like the truth. It’s jarring to realize that I like someone, considering I’ve hated him my entire life.

I wonder if he feels the same way too, or if the kiss and flirting is all for fun.

I decide to write to distract myself from my thoughts, and it helps a lot. My first draft is coming together, and now every time Agnes calls, I greet her with good news. And she seems to love that I’m married to someone well-known in our hometown, as she thinks it’ll give me just the right publicity.

“Agnes, very few people outside Grover Hill know who he is,” I told her. “They won’t care about me being married to him.”

“They will when they see how hot he is,” Agnes said, and I couldn’t object to that. Jonathan is the definition of hot. His face would show up if someone searched the word “handsome” or “the most perfect man.”

I wonder what he’s doing now. I glance at the wall clock. He said he’d be home soon. I don’t know why I feel anxious—maybe because I’m about to tell him how I feel. It feels almost exhilarating, like I’ll finally be able to breathe once I let the truth out.

“Okay, focus Emma. Deep breaths,” I tell my reflection in the mirror. “No nerves, you just tell him tonight after dinner how you feel. And if he doesn’t feel the same way, then I’ll simply disappear from the surface of the earth and only resurface to publish another book. Doesn’t sound too hard.”

Just then, I hear the sound of a car pulling into the driveway. I rush over to the window of my bedroom, where I have a perfect view of the front yard. Jonathan steps out of the car looking dapper, even though his hair looks slightly unruly from spending the entire day at work after the long flight, and his tie seems to be undone and hanging around his shoulder.

I imagine my arms dangling around his shoulders and pulling me to him as I kiss him. We haven’t kissed since that day, and we never even spoke about it afterward. Maybe I should start the conversation with a kiss, and see what he thinks of that.

I feel my nervous energy bouncing around me as I watch him from the window. He seems to be making his way to the front door, but then he stops and looks behind him.

I don’t see who he’s looking at immediately, but then I see her: a woman in a gorgeous red dress. She has her hair styled to perfection, and she walks up to Jonathan like she belongs at his side, with all the confidence in the world. I can’t hear what they’re talking about, but I can tell that I don’t like it.

The woman tilts her head slightly backward and laughs at something Jonathan says, and the gap between them seems to reduce with each second. The woman places her hand on his shoulder and he doesn’t move away. He doesn’t even seem to mind that she’s touching him.

I grip the blinds in my hand so hard my knuckles turn white. Anger rises inside me at the sight of the woman, with her perfect figure and the poised way she’s standing, like a ballerina or a queen.

Then she rises onto her toes, her fingers grazing his arm for balance as she presses a kiss to his cheek. The way she lingers—too long, too familiar—makes my stomach twist. Heat rushes to my face, my fingers tightening around the blinds. I nearly lose it.

It doesn’t even look like a friendly kiss, because she lingers before pulling away. All I see is red, a color ten shades brighter than her dress.

I don’t wait for the woman to leave. I just grab my laptop and storm outside.

“Emma! Wait, where are you going?” I hear Jonathan calling for me, but I ignore him. I don’t even glance their way, fearing that my heart will break at the sight of the two of them standing so close to each other.

I march around the fence separating our houses, my heart pounding. Reed’s front door is unlocked—thankfully—so I push it open and step inside, slamming it shut behind me.

The second he sees me, Reed’s brow furrows, concern flashing in his eyes. His relaxed stance shifts as he straightens and sets down his drink. “Emma, what happened?”

“Come here.” Reed opens his arms wide and I run into them. He hugs me tightly, letting me sag into his chest. Reed doesn’t ask questions, he just lets me feel the comfort that I desperately need.

Chapter 16

Jonathan

---