Page 63 of Going Viral for Christmas
That scares the fucking hell out of me.
I can’t let myself buy into that notion, not even for a moment. If I do, then this stops being harmless make-believe. It sprouts claws. It becomes a weapon that could slice me clean open.
I wet my lips, level my voice. “But it isn’t real. It’s fake.”
Soren’s smile fades, twisting into one I haven’t yet seen from him. He shakes his head, gaze fixed on the rippling dark water. “Everything in my life is noise. Fun, sure. Addictive, sometimes. But it’s not—” He pauses, mouth pressing shut, as if the words he was about to say were too heavy to. “You see,” he starts again, pauses. “You don’t want anything from me. Personally, that is. I find that…refreshing. And you intrigue me, if I’m being honest.”
I look at him, and the cocky Dagger Daddy from ShelfSpace isn’t standing here next to me. This Soren is gentler, fervent, and—for reasons I refuse to admit to—he makes my heart beat extremely fast.
So I do what I do best. I deflect. “Deep thoughts for a dinner cruise.”
His lips twitch. “What can I say? The water makes me poetic.”
“Dangerous combination.” I turn back toward the glow of the Lincoln Memorial, my pulse still drumming, traitorous and loud.
The lit monument spills over the water, fractured light shimmering between us. I swipe a stray strand of hair from my face, pretending it’s the wind that makes me shiver.
Behind me, I hear the rustle of fabric. Then a scarf, smelling faintly of pine and sexy Viking warrior, slides around my neck. Soren tugs the ends together gently, doubling me up in it. His fingers brush my collarbone before retreating.
I freeze, because this is not in the itinerary.
“You don’t give yourself enough credit,” Soren says, voice stout like it’s been waiting to be spoken. “For what it’s worth, I wouldn’t fake date anyone else. Or re—” His words cut off. It’s becoming a pattern with him. One I don’t understand. He finishes with, “You’re fun to rile up.”
I should cut down these warm emotions taking root inside me before they overtake me.
But then Soren adds, “And for some reason, I want to help my enemy succeed. I told you, Bells—I’m more than what you see online. Maybe one day, you’ll believe that.”
I stare straight ahead. Looking at him right now would be a mistake. A fatal one. My pulse hammers against the scarf he just tied around me, as if it knows whose hands were there seconds ago.
Fake. This is fake, Ava.
What if it could be real?
No.Fuck no.I crush that little whisper in my brain before it grows teeth and turns into a beast I can’t cage. That’s not the deal. Definitely not the plan. And if I let myself believe otherwise, it won’t be Soren Pembry who breaks me. It’ll be me, all over again.
Twelve
SOREN
The suite is too damn quiet.
Ava’s holed up in her room, typing away like the world depends on it, the faint clack of her keyboard drifting under the door.
I’m sprawled across the couch, long legs hanging off the end, thumbing through the spoils of our staged “bookstore stroll.”
The book in question?The Dragon Slayer’s Secret.Yeah. That’s what Renata and Camille staged us “playfully” fighting over in the Romantasy aisle while a dozen onlookers live-streamed it for ShelfSpace. A single copy left, two fake enemies turned lovers reaching for it simultaneously. A setup so on-the-nose, it should’ve come with a laugh track.
I “won” the book. Technically, Ava let go first, which is hilarious, because she’s the one who could kill a man with her death glare and a witty line.
Now here I am, flipping through the pages for a distraction. Not gonna lie—some of these spicy scenes are hotter than they have any right to be. And reading them is safer than replaying the words she stabbed me with earlier.It isn’t real. It’s fake.
She’s not wrong. That’s what we agreed to. Fake. For content. For optics. ForThe Bell and the Bladeship.
But fuck, I want the opposite.
She looked so beautiful tonight. That little silk dress clinging—no,sculpting—to every curve. Her hair caught the light like flames. When I wrapped my scarf around her neck, her pulse jumped beneath my fingers.
I wanted to lean down and kiss her right there. See if the heat in my chest matched the heat in hers.
