Page 82 of Breakneck
“See, I want to believe that the accident is the reason for your erratic behavior.” He smiled sweetly. “But I also think you sucked a thick cock just before you met me tonight.”
The champagne went down the wrong pipe, and I coughed. I picked up a napkin and muffled my hacking in it.
“Am I right?” Paris asked when I calmed down enough to breathe.
I opened my mouth, but he lifted his perfectly manicured finger. “No lies.”
“I’ve been distracted for multiple reasons,” I said, hoping to sound diplomatic. “Um. How did you come to your conclusion?”
“Swollen lips, dry at the corners, which could have had multiple causes. But you just confirmed my guess was right.”
I rubbed a hand down my face. I was pretty sure groveling wouldn’t help. Paris was way too smart for that. “You deserve better.”
He nodded pleasantly. “I agree. But here’s the deal. I don’t want anything romantic or sexual to happen between us. Your being more into your alpha bodyguard than into me suits me perfectly.”
He sounded excited for some reason. My mind reeling, I could only ask, “Why?”
“You can help me as much as I can help you.”
“You want to fake date me for press? I mean, thank you for the compliment, but you’re way out of my league. I’d be the one gaining more from the attention.”
Smirking, Paris finished his glass and moved it across the table toward me. I refilled it from the bottle in the bucket. “You need me to improve your image and to gain contacts.”
“My manager and Caspian think so. It wasn’t my idea.”
“I know. You’re not the strategic type.”
“Should I take that as an insult to my intellect?”
“Oh, not at all. I like your honesty.”
“I’m still waiting for you to explain what use I am to you.”
The server appeared out of nowhere and took our plates. Paris leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table, supporting his chin on his fist. It made him look boyish and endearing, which he must have known. “I think of the interested public as a ravenous beast, and the press is the beast’s toothy mouth. We need to feed it. It’s always hungry, and when we deny it food, it attacks and feasts on our flesh.”
“That’s a…grim picture.”
“As a man in the spotlight, you need to feed the public. Truth, lies, stunts—it doesn’t matter what, but something needs to be going on and getting talked about all the time. If we’re inactive and don’t say or do anything, the beast will attack. It will invent lies, dig into our pasts, and spread conspiracies. Just like what happened to you only a few days ago.”
“You’re saying to just give them what they want?”
Paris waved a dismissive hand. “Oh, they have no idea what they want. We give them whatwewant. The monster gets fed, but we remain whole.”
The metaphor was getting a bit too convoluted for me. “I’m not sure I’m following. Do you want to fake date me or not?”
Paris straightened in his chair. “This is the deal. We’ll be seen with each other at events and occasions like this one. No PDA, and no romantic getaways. There will be speculation about our romantic involvement, which we’ll steadily deny whenever asked. After a few weeks, depending on the atmosphere, we’ll begin saying we’re close but platonic. I’ll speak of you as the older brother I never had. We’ll be publicly supportive of each other and tease each other on social media with cute jokes—I’ll have someone from my team send you a posting schedule until you get the hang of it. You could even attend my family barbecue next month. Whenever we’re asked about whether we’re dating, we’ll gush about what great and wholesome friends we are.”
As he spoke, a smile spread on my face, wide and gleeful. I was in awe of this man.
“We’ll edge them ad infinitum,” I said.
He lifted his champagne glass in a cheers gesture.
“Paris, you are a genius.”
“Now. In order to become true best friends, tell me. How is he in bed?” He casually pointed at the bar where Terry was sitting.
“Terry? Amazing.” I waggled my eyebrows. “I’m addicted to his dick.”
