Page 16 of Dirty Secret Love

Wren:I don’t know if I should go and play referee or get a bucket of popcorn and watch you two try to . . . what are you trying to do? It doesn’t matter though, may the odds be in your favor.

“You have a cat,” I hear River’s voice coming from somewhere in my house.

“Daisy,” I correct him. “Her name is Daisy, not acat. Where are you?”I start looking around. “Where did you wander off to?”

“My new room,” he answers playfully.

When I arrive at what’s supposed to be the guest room, I see him bending slightly to pet Daisy, who’s stretching her body and rubbing her face against his hand, clearly enjoying the attention.

“You little traitor,” I mutter, slightly annoyed.

Can she stop being this friendly with strangers? Sometimes, I think I own the world’s only extroverted cat—the anti-cat or is it a cat-dog? I should retrain her.Show her how most cats ignore humans and make them beg for their attention, not the other way around.

“This isn’t your new room,” I correct him.

He looks around. “Not yet anyway. So, what’s the plan for all these books, darling?”

“Don’t call me that,” I snap, yet my voice doesn’t come out annoyed, more like playful.

River grins triumphantly, but then he surveys the room, his eyes darting from one stack of books to the next. “Let’s focus on the books, Sutton. If your mom drops by and sees this, she’ll know we’re not together.”

Taking a deep breath, I attempt to visualize the room from his perspective. Everywhere I look, there are piles of books looming like miniature mountains and rogue papers seem to have taken up residence on every available surface.

Usually, I don’t have a problem with this. In fact, it’s exactly what I need when I’m working but. . .a pang of anxiety hits me right in the gut. I hate to admit it, but he’s right. How on earth are we going to fix this in under a week? No one should look at this mess, and I just hope he doesn’t pay attention to any of it. It’s best if they don’t know my secret.

“Sutton, I really need you to change your clothes and prepare the overnight bag. We’ll deal with this and the rest soon,” he urges.

Clearly he doesn’t get that this is a matter of life or death. My mother is going to catch us . . . what’s the point of all this if we’re going to fail?

Feeling a lump form in my throat, I whisper, “This seems a lot more important than the date.”

The edges of panic begin to close in, and my breathing grows rapidly. River swiftly crosses the room. Standing just inches away, he gently grips my shoulders, grounding me. His blue eyes, full of concern, lock onto mine.

“Hey,” he murmurs soothingly. “Deep breaths. In and out. We’ve got this. Count with me, one, two, three, four, inhale.”

Taking shaky inhales, I try to match my breathing to his steady rhythm. “I just don’t know where to start,” I admit, my voice wavering.

“We’ll figure it out, okay? Together,” he reassures. “But right now, let’s just focus on changing your clothes and leaving.” He gives me a tender squeeze.

I don’t move, only stare at him. He really doesn’t understand the gravity of the situation. I don’t have any place to put these books. They can’t leave the room, and my parents—why are they coming back?

ChapterEight

Sutton

After I calm down,I change into something more comfortable and pack my bags. I’m too concerned about my parents that everything else is just a reaction. It’s not until I’m in the car that I realize everything that’s wrong in that exact moment. Shooting a sidelong glance at River as he pulls out from my garage, I say, “You’re not supposed to leave town.”

From her carrier on the back seat, Daisy mewls in protest. Of course she’s not happy we’re hauling her away to somewhere unknown. Whenever I have plans, I always prepare her in advance to ensure she feels loved and secure. River’s last-minute decision to leave town so we can have some weird power-hour . . . or was it power-meeting . . . Ugh, it doesn’t matter what he wants to do. This only shows his blatant disregard for Daisy’s feelings.

“Trust me,” he says.

“You can’t ask that when I don’t even know you,” I remind him.

“And yet, you asked me to be your fiancé,” he says sardonically. “Now you have to live with the consequences of your actions. But let me tell you, I never half-ass anything. If we’re doing this, we’ll do it right and be the best at it.”

It sounds like we’re about to be in the fake relationship Olympics, and he’s planning on winning the gold medal. As I’m about to tell him that he’s getting a little too passionate about something that’s pretty simple, he pulls in front of Wren’s house. She and Milo are outside, I assume waiting for us.

The moment I get out of the car, Milo’s face brightens. His favorite cat is here to see him. The two have this unusual bond. It’s quite endearing. She loves sleeping in his room. The only downside of this arrangement is when I have to take her home. It breaks my heart to see Milo’s sad face. Those big brown eyes begging for me to leave her a few more days. Sometimes, I agree and leave her, but other times I take her with me.

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