Page 28 of Going Viral for Christmas
“What do you mean?”
“Not wanting to know feels a little too close to being jealous. Which is a whole new emotion you’re not ready to unpack.” He leans on the table with his elbows. “What are you actually afraid of?”
My reply is instant. “Failing. I’m cautious, Fisher. And honest. This whole lying thing is hard for me.”
“Is this about a certain someone we shall not name?” His tone carries a dash of faux innocence and more than enough shade to make my stomach tighten. “Mr. I Hate Your Face?”
“No,” I lie. “It’s not about him.”
He hums, skeptical. “Well, good. Keep that sore excuse for a man in the past where he belongs. With his pretty words and practiced hands.”
“The ones that took everything from,” I mutter.
Fisher’s face softens. “Luv–”
“Look, I can’t do what Soren does. He’s so good at being…well,him. He treats every woman like she’s the answer to his prayers, laughs with them, signs books with personalized notes that are probablyveryintimate. And now I’m stuck in this fake dating stunt with a man who uses charm as a weapon.”
“Which is very close to Mr. I Hate Your Face.”
“True,” I agree. “But I’m not worried about that. I’m worried associating myself with a walking man-whore, like Soren, will screw over my credibility?”
“So, you’re worried about the Whoren Pembry persona?”
“Yeah, I’ve worked hard for my reputation. It’s spotless. And he’s out there passing out orgasms with every autograph.”
“Let’s unpack that jealousy now.”
“I’m not jealous,”I insist, although part of me hated how my body responded to him today, blushing and buzzing, thighs clenching.
Fisher gives me a look so dry it could sand furniture. “You sound as though you’re trying to convince TSA you’re not smuggling a vibrator in your carry-on.”
“Cute, coming from the man whodidsmuggle, not one, but two, actually.”
He shoves his empty plate aside with flair. “Ah,memories. Romanticom last year. Security pulled me aside, thinking I was harboring state secrets. All I could say was, ‘It’s rechargeable and body-safe, officer.’”
“You’re the worst human I’ve ever loved.”
“Correct.” He grins briefly, then hits me with a pointed glare. “But seriously, Ava. You need to remember that Soren plays acharacter. Emotional connection is merely another arrow in his hot-boy quiver. It’s an illusion. Theatrics. The man doesn’t bare his soul when he bares his chest.”
I open my mouth to object, but Fisher steamrolls ahead.
“What you’re actually saying with this long, self-righteous monologue of denial is your loins lit up like a goddamn Christmas tree when you saw him in person today. And that panel?” He fans himself with a cocktail napkin. “Hot.I went to my hotel room and jacked off to it.”
I choke on my martini, then gag. “Why, Fisher? Why must I know what?”
“Because we tell each other everything. And hey, ifIgot that worked up, I can’t imagine what was happening inyourpanties.Miss Dry Spell. I’d bet money that you’ve officially tumbled into Soren’s horny abyss. And all it took was one wink from that deliciously handsome, arrogant son of a bitch.A wink!”
I’m staring at him like he pulled a secret out of my pants and waved it around like a party flag.
The alcohol isfinallydoing its job. I point a finger at him. “Let’s make one thing clear. I don’t ‘tumble’ anywhere. If I wanted Soren Pembry, I’dstrideinto his lair in full control, heels clicking as though they were a countdown to his inevitable destruction.”
“With the way Blade Boy was staring at you today, if you’re striding, he’s kneeling.” Fisher lazily circles the rim of his glass with a finger.
“Whatever,” I say, blinking away the blur in my eyes. “He hatesmeas much as I hatehim.”
“Nah, Luv. He wants to fuck you. And I think you want that too.”
I shake my head. “Um, no.”
