Page 50 of Pack Fever

Curious, I lean forward to study the phone screen. It’s a national news website, and as I focus on the title of the article, my heart sinks.

Love Strikes a Chord. Fever’s Lead Singer, Seth, Engaged to Mystery Omega.

Panic rises through me, strangling me the longer I stare at the photo of myself in a side view. The focus is me staring down at my hand, where the ring is. I feel as though I’m going to pass out. I scroll frantically as my face flushes with anxiety, scanning each line, reading the lies about Seth introducing me to his family as his fiancée, the engagement. It’s all there in bold print.

Fuck!

The only relief is that they haven’t printed my name or shown my face, which is a minuscule comfort, considering Seth is breathing like a damn dragon. Then another photo catches my attention—Seth lifting me into the back of his car, which he did when we left the party, and my exhaustion became too much.

Who the hell was watching us? The thought turns my stomach.

I glance up at Seth. “I-I don’t understand why someone would publish this. Why would they lie? I mean, at least they didn’t show my face, so Nexus can’t track me down. There’s that.”

His brows furrow as he asks, “You told the girls you were chatting with that we were engaged?”

I blink at his anger, a reaction that stabs me in the chest. Here, I assumed he might actually like me a bit after last night, but instead, he’s staring at me as if I killed someone he loved all because he’s announced as engaged. It’s fake, of course, so what the hell is his problem?

“I didn’t tell them anything,” I gasp out, my hand trembling as I hand the phone back to him. “Why the hell would I say that to anyone? And why would they take a photo of me and spread these lies? Was it the paparazzi?”

His gaze drops to my outstretched hand, and he’s silent, his expression dropping. He takes back his phone.

“Is that my grandma’s ring you’re wearing?” he asks, his voice darkening.

As Seth’s stare hardens on the ring on my finger, my frustration boils over.

“Yeah, your mother insisted I wear it, and I couldn’t exactly say no. We’re just faking being together,” I snap. “So, really, us being in the paper is your fault.”

“Dani…” My shortened name escapes his lips, almost like a warning.

But I’m not backing down.

“I get it. You’re angry because your bachelor reputation is at risk. Maybe you should have thought of that before taking me to the party.”

His breathing grows heavier, his shoulders inching up as he just stares at me. I’m half expecting him to blow up, except no way in hell is this my fault.

Shaking all over, furious at myself that I felt anything for him yesterday, I yank the ring off my finger, then round the table and shove it into his hand.

“Take your ring back. I never asked for it, so don’t look at me like I’m some groupie dying to tell the world we’re together. That’s the farthest from the truth.” My insides are trembling, my throat thickening because I’m mad at myself, but I’m not going to let him see my angry tears. As I stride past him, I call out over my shoulder, “And just so you know, I regret ever kissing you… at the club and last night.”

My emotions are overwhelming, my heart hammering in my ears. I feel foolish, naïve, for thinking there could be something more between us. At least Reed’s been honest about it, not pretending.

Seth suddenly snatches my wrist and pulls me back with a surprising strength. In an instant, I’m pinned against the wall, his body blocking any path to escape.

Our eyes lock, and there’s a storm in his gaze, a tumultuous explosion of emotions mirroring my own. Anger and tears push forward, and I hate how quickly he brings them out of me. I realize then it’s because of how trapped I feel. Not just physically by his presence, but by Nexus on my heels, by the growing heat whirling through me. Instead, I’m standing there with tears in my eyes and my thighs clenching together from his delicious scent, from how desperately I want him to strip me.

I’ve lost control of my life and my body.

“What’s your problem?” I ask in a husky whisper.

His expression softens as he sighs. “That damn article is going to be such a pain in my fucking ass. We’re under contract with the record company not to get married, engaged, or settled down with anyone, especially not publicly. All to maintain the illusion that we’re available,” he murmurs.

“Oh, shit.”

“Yep. The team at Wing Music rang me at seven this morning and blasted me. Lawyers are involved as I try to undo the mess and not end up with a lawsuit on my hands.”

His words press down on me, dread hammering in my chest as I know that Wing Music is the country’s biggest record label.

“B-But it’s not real. Just tell them that.”

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