Page 45 of The Bad Boy's Fake Wife

“Like I said, I adore you. I…” A pause, then: “I love you, Emma. I’ve loved you for longer than I was willing to admit how I felt, and I love you so deeply that sometimes it hurts to think about it. And when you didn’t talk to me for weeks, I thought I’d lost you forever. It was the most devastating two weeks of my entire life.”

“Jonathan,” I say, “are you sure?”

I ask him because I want to make sure, because I don’t want him to be confused by how well we seem to be fooling everyone else. If this is an elaborate lie that he’s begun to believe, then I don’t want it.

“I’ve never been so sure in my life, Emma. Never. I love you from the depths of my heart. I love you so much it hurts. I mean it.”

He brings our interlocked hands to his chest and spreads my hand there. “You feel this? The beating of my heart? It beats just for you, and it beats really loudly.”

I laugh at his words. “That sounds very cheesy, but I love it.”

“You do?” he asks, and I nod.

“It’s because my heart beats for you, too,” I say, making him smile really wide. “I love you, too, Jonathan. I love you so much that it almost hurts to think about it.”

Jonathan doesn’t hesitate. He leans in, his lips brushing against mine with a mix of urgency and tenderness, stealing my breath before I can even think. Warmth spreads through my chest, my heart hammering as I melt into the kiss, losing myself in the moment. I moan at the feel of his mouth against mine as I pull him to me, kissing him back as hard as I can. My hand weaves into his hair and he wraps his arms around my waist, closing the gap between us.

He pulls away and places his forehead against mine, and I’m so giddy and in love that I can’t fathom how this came to be. When did I start catching feelings for him? Was it after our first kiss? It feels like it was much earlier than that, but I can’t put my finger on when this started. It just happened, and I choose to accept that.

Jonathan mirrors my smile as he asks, “Can I kiss you again? I want to make sure I’m not dreaming.”

I laugh at that, but I kiss him again and again. I’m still kissing him when we hear a noise behind us.

“Geez, guys, get a room!” Reed walks in, cringing at us.

I pull away and roll my eyes at him. “We’re in our own home, Reed, and you decide to butt in.”

He shrugs, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “Can’t I miss my sister? Or my friend?” His smirk suggests he’s enjoying our reaction a little too much. “I just came to see you guys.”

Jonathan says, “So you can’t complain at whatever you end up seeing at our home.” He wraps his arm around my shoulders and pulls me against him. I sink into him, feeling his warm body pressed against mine.

Reed sighs and turns around, leaving without a single word. He seemingly has decided to give up and leave us to our own devices. I laugh and pull away from Jonathan before walking to where I left my laptop on the couch.

“I need to send this to Agnes and see what she thinks of it,” I say while typing away. Jonathan begins cleaning up the popcorn.

“Can I read it?” he asks, and my heart thuds. I want to show him, I really do. But what if he doesn’t like it? He read the first chapter, but this is the finished product and naturally, I’m scared of what he’ll think.

“Will you be nice when you read it?” I ask, nervously biting my bottom lip.

Jonathan nods. “I promise.”

I pull up the file for him and hand over the laptop.

“You don’t have to read everything now,” I say, feeling very nervous. He nods, but he doesn’t move, his eyes trained on the screen. And that’s how he sits for hours, reading without a moment’s rest while I pace the living room, the kitchen, and every other inch of the house.

He takes his time reading every chapter, and I only hear low grunts every once in a while. I keep asking him every few minutes if it’s good, but he seems to have lost the ability to speak.

The second he’s done, he closes the laptop and turns to me. “Have you submitted this to Agnes already?”

I nod. “I did just before you read it, remember?”

He nods, and my heart drops.

“Why? Should I tell her to not read it yet?”

He shakes his head. “Far from it. Emma, I’m not lying when I say this is genuinely the best book I’ve read in my entire life—and I don’t mean just your work, but all of the books in the world that I’ve read.”

I gasp. “You can’t possibly mean that!”

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