Page 43 of Sweet Caroline
“Man, that guy’s a real piece of shit.”
I let out a resigned laugh. “Tell me about it.”
His gaze licks over my collarbone, my neck, somehow heating my skin.“It’s his loss, you know.”
“What is?”
“You,” he says simply—like it should be obvious.
My lips part, but I have no idea what to say. “Y-you don’t know that,” I finally stammer out. “You barely know me.”
“Yeah, but I’ve got a good read on people. Always have.”
I tilt my head in question.
“It’s like an ADHD spidey-sense or some shit.”
“You have ADHD?”
“Yup.” He nods slowly. “And I know what you’re thinking: ADHD, addiction… Man, this guy is thewhooole package.”
My laughter takes us both by surprise and he gives my thigh a playful nudge with his, then catches it with his hand, squeezing gently. His palm lingers, warming my skin through my dress.
“Good thing I’m not your real boyfriend, huh?”
Our eyes lock then, smiles faltering. His gaze drops to my mouth before he looks away and removes his hand.
“About that…”
His attention swivels right back to me. “Yeah?”
“I know this was supposed to be a onetime thing,” I start, suddenly hating the sound of my own voice. “And I know it didn’t exactly go amazingly for you at the fundraiser…” My throat tightens and my palms feel sweaty.
God, why do I feel like I’m fourteen and asking Caleb Fraser to the Valentine’s Dance all over again?
“But you need a fake boyfriend beyond tonight,” he finishes for me.
My anxiety shape-shifts into confusion. “How did you?—?”
“Just a hunch.” He breaks eye contact, rubbing his thighs. “I have a good read on people, remember?”
“Right. Well, yeah, actually. But only for a few weeks—until the election. So the public thinks I’m in a stable, steady relationship. If you disappear now, it’ll look like I’m… having casual flings. I’m sorry. I should have realized?—”
“Casual flings?” Miles frowns, his jaw clenching in the dim living room light. “Is that what your dad said to you?”
“Not in those exact words.”
The furrow in his brow deepens, the protective glimmer in his eyes from the gym back again. “What words did he use?”
Worse words.
“Doesn’t matter.” I wave him off.
He looks like he doesn’t agree, but he doesn’t push.
I study him for a long moment, my heart heavy with guilt for pulling him into all this. This man doesn’t owe me a thing. How could I ask for anything more, especially after what he went through tonight?
“Actually, forget it.” I push off the couch and head for the door. “I can’t ask you to do this.”
