Page 52 of Building Romance
Al nods and looks between us. “So, are we allowed to tell anyone that you won?”
I shake my head. “I cannot confirm nor deny that we won.”
Everyone laughs.
“But it was a great experience,” I say. I can see Roxy and Jocelyn give me suspicious looks and I know they are going to ask a ton of questions later. I’ll need to come up with some explanation of why Fletcher and I are still being civil with one another.
Damn, this just got complicated.
“Did you talk to your family yet?” Al asks.
I shake my head. “Not yet. Winston is traveling for work and my parents are about to head out on a cruise. We’ve texted but I haven’t spoken to them.”
And I haven’t texted Max yet, I remind myself.
“So now what?” Hutch asks as he looks between the two of us.
I furrow my brows in pretend confusion but I know exactly what he means. Will our truce continue? Are we back to being mortal enemies?
I have no idea how to answer that. Oh, yeah, I’m fucking my rival now, so it’s all good. Nope. Fletcher’s dick is so good, I’ve forgotten all about that little competition between our stores. Yeah, no.
“We actually found that we work well together and have a lot in common. So, for now, we’re going to try to stay friends, right?” Fletcher answers him and I give him a grateful smile.
“Right,” I agree.
Drew gives me a look that says we will most definitely be having a roommate conversation later tonight. I suddenly wish Fletcher and I could have remained in our little estate bubble for a few more days.
“We have some more media to do over the next week,” Fletcher says. I glance over at him in confusion. We do not have any media. I have no idea what he’s talking about.
“Right,” I say, downing the rest of my drink.
“The show has us booked tomorrow night downtown, remember?” he says.
“Oh, uh, yeah,” I play along.
“I thought you had no more media for, like, two or three more weeks?” Drew asks. Fuck, why do I have to tell my bestie everything?
“That’s what we thought, but Felicity apparently added some additional interviews,” Fletcher lies as he glances over at me.
“OK, I need to hit the hay,” I state as I toss my paper plate away and set my champagne flute on the bar. We all take turns cleaning the dishes. “Shall I wash them?” I ask Al.
He waves me off. “Nope. The party is for you, we’ll take care of it,” he assures me. I hug him.
“Glad to have you back, kiddo,” he whispers in my ear. And I squeeze him a little harder.
“It’s nice to be home,” I reply. While I love my family, there’s just something about my apartment family. I’m not sure I’ll live here forever, but I do know I will always be friends with them all.
I look over at Fletcher. He’s standing and tossing his plate away too.
“I’ll walk you out,” I say, hoping for some privacy.
He nods, and with some goodbyes and hugs, we walk downstairs. His car is already waiting. “So more press, huh?” I ask.
He winks. “I needed a way to get you all to myself, Hollywood,” he confesses.
“Nicely played, McDowell,” I reply.
He looks around and then pulls me against him and kisses me, and not just some little peck. A full, open-mouth, tongue-against-tongue kiss that leaves me weak in my knees and wishing this pretend press event was tonight.
