Page 63 of Miss Matched

“Hungry?” I ask her with a grin.

“Starving.” She swallows hard and grabs for another. “I can’t seem to eat enough lately.”

I lay my forearms on the table and lean in. “Maybe it’s all the extracurricular activities.” My eyebrow hitches.

She pauses with a fry on her lips, and her eyes widen. There goes my mouth, running off and getting me into trouble. I think maybe I said the wrong thing until she sets the fry down and smiles back at me.

“That’s awfully bold,” she teases. “But no, that’s not it. I stress eat, and business has been hectic.”

“Sexy.”

Kennedy rolls her eyes, but she doesn’t realize I mean what I said. I love the way she unloads whatever’s on her mind and doesn’t give a shit how a person is going to take it. It’s the same way she inhales her meal: in big bites with no pauses. Messy, unapologetic, hungry. She’s mind-blowingly gorgeous in every way.

By the time Kennedy’s plate is empty, I’ve watched her long enough to know one thing is clear: this arrangement will end in me having the biggest case of blue balls on the planet.

And I’ll be married to the wrong woman.

“Be sure to let me know if you need anything when setting up your next date with Jasmine,” she says, sitting back. My stomach sinks as we circle back to this inevitable conversation. “Just because I’m handing off the scheduling, doesn’t mean I’m not here to help in any way that I can. I’ll just stick to the sidelines. Give you a chance to find your own pattern with each other. See how you communicate. Determine if you two really are a good fit.”

Her face is blank apart from the slightest downturn of her lips on the last sentence.

“And then what?” I ask her against my better judgment, wanting her to tell me there is no and then what because I should ditch Jasmine and fall in love with her instead.

“And then our contract is complete.”

Like a sledgehammer to my gut, that idea takes an awful shape. Complete. Finito. The end.

Kennedy reaches her hand across the table, surprising me by placing it over mine. It’s the first time today she’s shown a crack in her armor.

“This is good, Zac,” she assures me. “Remember why you came to me in the first place.”

I do remember—the article, Samson, the whole fucking mess. But even if this arrangement is keeping the board off my back, I don’t feel any better than I did when it started.

Kennedy runs her fingers over the back of my hand, and I’m not sure she realizes she’s doing it.

“Jasmine is a great girl,” she says. “Give her a chance. I wouldn’t have set you up with her if I didn’t believe it.”

“And what about us?”

I regret the words the second they leave my mouth, because she pulls away, and a familiar emptiness takes shape.

“There is no us,” she says, and I almost hear the hollow strike of the final nail in the coffin. “I just mean—” She fumbles her words. “We agreed it was just a one-night thing.”

“That lasted for two days,” I remind her.

“Oh, I remember.” She hitches an eyebrow. “But that’s all it can be. I can’t give you what you’re asking for, and you have a business to think about.”

“So do you.”

She nods. “Let’s just let what happened be what it was.”

“Amazing, incredible, hot as fuck?”

Her eyes roll in annoyance, but I don’t miss that she blushes. “Okay, yes, all those things. But most importantly, it’s in the past.”

Too bad it doesn’t feel like it.

“You’re dating Jasmine now,” she says. “It might have been casual before, but if you keep going, you need to actually commit. Get to know her. No distractions. Enjoy the process.”

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