Page 107 of Faking the Pass
Unable to make my mouth confirm the lie, I just stared at him helplessly.
His eyelids flared then narrowed. He continued to stare at me for another few seconds, then he put the food he’d taken out back into the refrigerator, slammed the door, and walked toward the stairway leading to his gym.
“I’m going to work out.”
“Don’t you need to eat first?”
“I’ve lost my appetite,” he growled over his shoulder and stomped up the stairs.
Over the next two weeks, we went on strategic daily outings together—sunset beach walks, dinners at the Cliffhouse and several other Eastport Bay restaurants, a show at the Providence Performing Arts Center, a dinner cruise around Eastport Bay.
The paparazzi were there of course, following us everywhere we went, and that was what wewanted—supposedly.
Whenever they were around, Presley made a point of touching me, always keeping a hand on my back or shoulder, kissing me for the benefit of the cameras.
Nothing too salacious but enough to get my heart racing—and cause an ache lower down.
In private, we were living mostly separate lives.
Wednesday through Saturday Presley went in for team meetings and stayed to work with Dylan and the other backup quarterback on the field.
When he was home, he acted surly, communicating in grunts and short phrases.
Clearly he was angry with me. I guessed I’d have been angry, too, if someone had taken away my sex life against my will.
Truth be told, my body was filing complaints with the brain departmentdaily. Many times I’d scolded myself for that hall pass amendment.
If we’d never slept together on the island, I wouldn’t have known what I was missing. And maybe Presley wouldn’t have been such a grump now.
Hopefully after a few weeks of these public performances, the celebrity press would tire of us and we could drop the act.
Maybe when they stopped watching us like hawks, I could even move out and get my own place.
I didn’t know how much more of this I could take.
The idea of being sued in civil court wasn’t exactly thrilling, but I almost wished they’d go ahead and set the new court date so we could get it all over with.
Presley would just have to find another human shield to protect him from the groupies and wanna be girlfriends.
Maybe I should encourage him to get one?
If he could be discreet enough about it, that might be a solution to meeting the physical needs I was no longer attending to.
The logical thought caused a roiling of nausea in my stomach and my brain to go dark and cloudy.
Anyway, that wouldn’t work.Shemight not be discreet.
If anyone were to get wind of it—if that woman, whoever she was, couldn’t keep her mouth shut—our marriage lie would be exposed and this whole thing would have been for nothing.
No, I’d just have to hope for a quick trial—or for Randy to decide to drop the suit. Which was as likely as him telling people his real last name.
Either way, I just hoped it happened soon.
Chapter 26
A Big One On the Line
Rosie
