Page 183 of Going Viral for Christmas
Matthew turns back to her. “So. Serious question.”
Ava braces. Uh oh. I’m nervous now.”
“Don’t be. I promise I won’t bite.” He grins. “Tell me, what’s your stance on dogs in Halloween costumes?”
Ava doesn’t hesitate. “Pro. Strongly pro. But only if the dog consents via tail wag.”
Matthew nods solemnly. “Correct answer.”
Ava smiles, lighting me up on the inside. “Was that the test?”
“No,” he says. “That was the warm-up.” His eyes glide between Ava and me. “Now tell me, Ava—is this all still a fake dating publicity stunt for you? Enemies with benefits? Your numbers have reached record highs due to this scheme. Is that all it still is?”
Thirty-Three
AVA
The question knocks the air out of me.
Matthew asks it so easily—as if he’s tossing out a joke. But this one isn’t funny. Not even a little. It’s very serious.
Shifting my weight, my attention snaps to Soren, who’s watching me with that calm, steady patience that drives me a little insane. He already knows my answer. He’s waiting to see if I’ll say it out loud.
For a second, I want to lie. Come out with a breezy line. Tease. Deflect. But Matthew isn’tsomefriend. He’s Soren’sFisher—his only family. And Matthew is obviously fiercely protective of Soren.
More than anything, I’m exhausted from the performance. Smiling on cue, bantering for the cameras, selling a relationship that isn’t supposed to be real. The idea of dropping the act and telling the truth for once feels less like relief and more like a risk.
Heat rises to my cheeks. I inhale, exhale. Answer him. “It stopped being fake the weekend we got snowed in.” My voice is light, but sure. “Between the cinnamon rolls and the way he looked at me like I was the whole damn world.”
Matthew listens. Soren’s expression softens so fast, I nearly dissolve.
“I kept trying to push him away,” I go on, shrugging, playing itcool. But fail. “I didn’t want it to be real. Because if it were real, then it could hurt me. Or I could lose it. And I’ve lost enough in the realm of love.”
Soren’s fingers caress my hip, a small, tender offering.
“I wanted my cake,” I admit. “I wanted to eat it too. Soren, though, didn’t want crumbs. He wanted all of me. But I kept trying to offer half. Turns out, he doesn’t settle.”
Matthew’s eyes narrow, despite a smile dancing on the corners of his lips.
“I get it now.” My eyes are still on the man who changed everything. “So, to answer your question, Matthew, it stopped being fake the second Soren felt like home.”
Soren exhales as though he’s been holding it in for months.
“Well, shit.” Matthew huffs a breath, swiping at his eyes like something is stuck in them. “Now I gotta go call my wife and tell her I love her or some shit like that. Fucking authors, man. You’re all emotional terrorists in cute shoes.”
Soren chuckles.
Matthew claps him on the back, sets his empty glass on a passing tray, then turns to me. “It was a pleasure, Ava. If you ever need someone to dramatically read one of your steamy scenes at an open mic night, call literally anyone else.”
I grin. “Duly noted.”
“She’s got me for that.” Soren winks.
“No doubt in my mind.” With a final head nod, Matthew fishes his phone out of his pocket, strolls off into the crowd.
I turn back. Soren’s gaze roams over me like I signed my name on his soul. Stormy eyes glitter with hunger, heat crackling in the space between us. The man before me is a lit fuse.
“Uh-oh,” I breathe, taking a step back that’s not really away. “I know that look.”
