Page 51 of Mr. Wicked

But I’d sent Laura a text before I’d grabbed the beers from the fridge, telling her I agreed to the terms.

Within thirty days of signing, I’d be able to pay off all my debt. I could cut down on the shifts I was working at the bar to really focus on building my business and create constant content to pursue my dream of being a full-time influencer. I’d be able to flaunt my relationship with Grayson in my social media posts, adding another layer to my persona, and another reason for my followers to want to live vicariously through me. Laura was right: my audience would melt over a love story, and to watch one unfold would only increase my visibility and engagement and followers. I’d be able to plan for my future—save a ton and open an investment account, things my parents hounded me to do since they were unable to.

And, most importantly, I’d be able to help my parents. A factor that motivated me more than anything.

Their situation wasn’t good.

I could change that.

I could give them what I’d always dreamed of.

But there was a massive downside to this agreement.

One that made my stomach ache.

That made my chest hurt.

That made me think of my parents and what they had and it made me want to cry.

I was marrying a man who wasn’t openly confessing his love.

I wasn’t even sure he cared about me.

The only thing I knew for sure—that I could feel every time I was in his presence—was that he was attracted to me. That it felt like he was doing everything in his power not to touch me, that he was straining to not kiss me.

In my gut, I believed there was more.

I just didn’t have proof.

And I didn’t know if things would change the more time we spent together. If it was even possible for Grayson to grow feelings when he was so anti-everything.

I just had hope.

But that hope was another reason I’d said yes.

Because despite how much of an asshole he was, I couldn’t get enough of his gaze.

His attention.

The way he made me feel.

I couldn’t stop thinking about him or scrolling through his social media, wanting to know everything about this mysterious, hard-edged man.

I couldn’t stop myself from wanting more.

I couldn’t ignore the feeling in my stomach, this foreign, nagging sensation that told me he was the one.

My goal, even if it felt outlandish and impossible, was to have Grayson fall in love with me.

To have the love that I saw every time I looked at my parents.

And that was the reason I’d shown him my sassy side when we’d been in Laura’s office. My semi-shy, timid, submissive side hadn’t gotten me what I wanted with him. In fact, if I had stayed the night, he would have rejected me the following morning. Possibly kicked me out. Most definitely turned me away. But once I laid on just a little sass, it appeared that Grayson didn’t know what to do with himself. He didn’t know how to handle a woman who talked back. Who stuck up for herself. Who had her own demands.

Still, those were two very important sides of me that held equal weight in my everyday life.

This was the real Jovana.

As authentic as it got.

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