Page 63 of Perfectly Faked

Her gaze shifts to the door. “I need to get back.”

“Victoria.” I keep my voice calm, taking her shoulders gently and turning her to face me. “Please. Don’t do this. Don’t just walk away.”

“What do you want me to say, Leo? That I believed it? That for one moment I thought maybe—” She stops herself, pressing her lips between her teeth like she’s afraid of saying more.

“Maybe what?” I step closer, desperate to close the gap between us. “That you thought it was real?”

She doesn’t respond.

My gaze locks on to hers. “That’s because it was, Victoria.All of it.Every second.”

“Stop,” she whispers with a frown. “You don’t have to say this just to make me feel better.”

“Feel better?” I laugh in disbelief. “You think this is about putting on an act?” I drag a hand through my hair. “Do you have any idea what it’s like to look at you every day and pretend I don’t really see you? To touch you, to hold you like that, and then act like it meansnothing? Acting like I don’t care about you has been thehardestthing I’ve ever done.”

Her eyes cut to mine, and for a moment, I see it—she wants to believe it’s true.

“Give me one night to prove it to you,” I beg softly, stroking the back of my fingers down her cheek. “No cameras, no rules, no pretending. Just us. If you still think this is all fake after that, I’ll back off. But promise me you’ll let me try.”

She hesitates, and for a second, I think she’s going to say no. “One night.” Her voice is barely audible, but it’s enough to give me hope.

TWENTY-FIVE

victoria

As I rush out of the studio, the burn from his touch lingers on my skin, and I wonder if I just made a terrible mistake. None of it changes what I’ve done to him. I’m the one who broke his heart in college and did something I can’t take back. Even if that kiss made him forget for a moment, there’s no way he can forgive me that easily.

I hurriedly change into my own clothes, but when I step out of the dressing room, there’s Leo, leaning against the wall like a cover model, one leg propped up and his hair falling over his eyes.

Of course he looks like that. So dangerously handsome my heart skips a beat.

I take a deep breath to slow my galloping heart. “Were you waiting on someone?” I ask, looking down the empty hallway.

“You agreed to give me one chance. And I’m not letting you go until we finish what we started back there.” He nods toward the set.

I begin down the hall, knowing that arguing with him is futile. “Don’t get any ideas about tonight, Ego. You’re not getting past first base with me.”

He quickly matches my stride, then looks over at me, one eyebrow arching. “Pretty sure I already scored when we filmed the commercial. Or have you forgotten the part where you tackled me onto the couch?”

“That wasn’t scoring,” I say, rolling my eyes. “That wasacting.”

“Sure it was,” he says with a laugh.

We agree to take his car, and he heads toward the beach. When we arrive, there’s a lone taco truck parked in the corner of the lot and only a few vehicles left for the day. The entire beach is ours.

“Still like tacos?” he asks, parking the car.

I nod, and my stomach rumbles when I smell hot onions and spicy chorizo on the grill. Back when we dated, Leo discovered a taco truck near campus that was cheap, delicious, and my favorite.

“That’s what I hoped,” he says, turning to grab a blanket and a Crushers’ hoodie from the backseat. He hands me the shirt. “For you. Because you’re always cold on the beach.”

I take the sweatshirt and slide it on, burying my nose in the familiar scent. If I could steal this hoodie, I’d never wash it again. Leo’s scent isthataddictive. “Is this some trick to get me to kiss you again?”

He grins. “All part of my master plan, Victoria.”

We order tacos, and when they’re ready, we take them down to the beach, where the fading daylight paints the sky in soft pinks and violets. He spreads the blanket on the sand and invites me to sit, laying out our taco dinner between us. It might still be winter in South Carolina, but it’s an unseasonably warm day, perfect for a picnic. The wind picks up, whipping my hair intomy face, and without a word, Leo tucks the loose strands behind my ear.

“Why are you being so nice?” I ask, not hiding my smile.

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