Page 20 of The Fantasy League
I nodded. Which was all I could manage with my brain full of images of Scarlett and I fucking. If she asked me to take her right here on the kitchen island, I’d bend her over in an instant.
My dick twitched realizing that she’d thought about us having sex too. Well, probably not in the same way I had since she was banning us from doing it, but still, the thought had crossed her mind.
Either way, it was a step in the right direction.
“Anything else?”
“Hmmm, I don’t think so. Do you have anything to add?”
Did I have anything to add? Yeah, that I wanted to ditch rules two and three. But I wasn’t going to out my desires by negotiating with her. I’d take whatever she was willing to give me, even if it meant not being able to kiss her.
“Nope, nothing.” I shook my head as I recovered from my near death by pancake.
“In that case, I guess I’m in.” She stuck her hand out toward me.
Huh. That had gone along smoother than envisioned. I expected her to have more resistance like last week or make an attempt to bargain for more than just the house.
If I had known it would’ve been that easy, I might have grown some balls sooner and asked her out months ago.
“Deal.” I slipped my hand into hers and we shook on it, sealing our fate.
“Now grab your phone and take a picture of me handing you your breakfast, but don’t get my face in it.” For the first time in months, she smiled at me, a genuine smile, and it knocked the breath from my lungs.
Her smile was like a drug and I instantly craved more of it.
She could’ve broken my fucking heart the next second and I wouldn’t have cared. I’d let her break me a million times if it meant seeing her smile like that again.
SEVEN
SCARLETT
It had beena week since Abel and I came to an agreement on the terms of our fake relationship. We had each initiated soft launch photos on our respective Socialgram accounts to generate buzz among fans about a potential relationship.
Neither of us had named the other or shown the other’s face in our posts, but it didn’t take long for people to put the details together. Granted, my ring in the photo he posted was a dead giveaway since my hands are in the majority of the cooking photos on the blog.
I made a mental note to remove any obvious personal identifiers should I find myself in another relationship publicity stunt.
With our covers all but officially broken, our first public appearance together as a couple was impending any day now.
Abel and I had been talking more than usual the last week, but our conversations were surface level at best. I couldn’timaginesitting across from him on a dinner date making small talk for two hours with people and cameras watching, but for a fourteen-million-dollar house, I would force myself through it with a smile.
I was still baffled by the entire situation. The guy was a professional freaking athlete, for Christ’s sake. I wouldn’t put it past him to have a handful of girls on speed dial at any given moment.
I hadn’t wrapped my mind around why he had chosen me, of all people, but at this point, it wasn’t like we could change it. So I guessed whatever reasoning he had must’ve been a good one.
After parking my car in Mae’s driveway, I rounded the corner toward the pool house. Pausing in front of the pool house doors, I attempted to fish my house key out of the never-ending tote bag that hung from my shoulder.
It was only when I looked down to search through the bag that I found a box with an envelope taped to the top sitting in front of the French doors.
That was odd…
I crouched down and peeled the light-green envelope off of the box and opened it to find an invitation to a charity gala for later that night. Thank God it wasn’t a dinner date and Lea would be around in case I needed an escape. I continued reading the card to see it was for the… National Cervical Cancer Coalition.
My breath caught in my lungs.
That was the kind of cancer that my mom had passed from two years ago. Did Abel know about that? If so, who the heck told him? I turned over the back of the invitation and found a handwritten note from Abel.
Be my date?
