Page 37 of The Fantasy League
How had I never heard of this place before?
“I’m pretty sure this is the best food in Miami.”
“Aside from yours.” Abel winked.
“Don’t be smug.”
Excusing myself, I wandered off to the lavish restroom down the hall. And just as I was about to slink down into my seat, Abel pulled me into his lap.
A gasp escaped my lips as he cradled me sideways against his chest. One of his hands snaked around to hold me by my waist and the other gripped the back of my neck and pulled me closer to him.
Holy. Freaking. Hell.
He really, really,reallyneeded to stop holding me like this.
“Don’t freak out. There’s a few paparazzi outside the window behind you and they’ve been eyeing me since you got up from the table,” Abel whispered, his lips brushing gently against the shell of my ear, sending a shiver down my spine.
My whole body turned to stone, yet every nerve ending in my body ignited at the way his faint touch overwhelmed me.
Testing out my improv skills on old couples at a charity event was one thing, but making sure our relationship looked realistic through the eyes of the paparazzi?
Not so simple.
“Relax, Red. You’re doing great.” Abel pressed his forehead against mine. “I know we said no kissing, but I assumed that only meant on the lips.” His voice was low and husky which made goose bumps flare across my skin. “Am I allowed to kiss your cheek?”
I nodded wordlessly, ignoring the fact that I could feel my cheeks turning pink before he planted a kiss against my skin. When he pulled his head back our faces were inches apart and my stomach lurched thinking about what it would be like for him to kiss me. Really kiss me.
“I like it here,” I whispered after a beat. Though I was unsure whether I meant the restaurant or sitting on his lap.
“I had a feeling you would.” His lips curled and he stroked his hand across my outer thigh as he held my body against his. I watched while his hazel eyes fervently roamed across my face and a hint of dizziness whirled through me.
He didn’t know it, but a wet spot began to form in my panties as heat soared between us. I desperately needed to scoot off of his leg before I soaked through the fabric of my dress.
Oh god, what if he could feel my heat through his jeans?
Just at the thought, Abel broke the gaze he had on my lower lip and nudged my leg, indicating that it was time for us to go.
Thank God.
My stomach dipped as I peeled myself off of his lap and stood on two wobbly feet. As much as I tried to ignore it, I liked it when Abel pulled me close to him. If I could, I would’ve stayed curled in the warmth of his chest for the rest of the night.
Despite my urge to push him back down into the booth, I smoothed down my dress with my palms and made my way toward the exit. My stomach erupted with nerves as Abel caught up with me and grabbed my hand before leading the way to the front door.
“Wait, wait.” I stopped, turning on my heels to head back to the table. “I have to go back and pay.” Abel wrapped his hand around my wrist to stop me. “Abel, seriously, I have to go back,” I stammered.
“I paid while you were in the bathroom.” Abel shifted himself behind me, placing a possessive hand on my hip as he walked us out of the restaurant doors, giving Carlo and Gianna a wave before we passed them. “And for the record, whenever you’re with me, you won’t be paying for a damn thing. Got it?” he whispered, his breath hot against my ear.
Oh god, was itthatobvious I was broke?
Obviously he knew how much money I made, but surely that was pocket change when you factored in his league contract, the brand deals, and his real estate investments.
According to the league’s official website, my annual salary was equivalent to two of his games when I looked up a few months back. Still, it was beyond embarrassing when the hottest guy you’d ever gone out with—even if it was fake—knew that you were broke.
“O-okay, if you insist,” I muttered hastily, not entirely sure how to respond to him, but also not stupid enough to fight him on it.
The moment the giant wooden doors to the restaurant opened, we were assaulted with bright camera flashes and demanding questions from the paparazzi who’d been stationed outside the restaurant.
My hands trembled, but Abel gave my hip a tight squeeze reassuring me that he wouldn’t let anything bad happen.
