Page 28 of Fake Out

I take a deep inhale, focusing on the sound of my heartbeat and the steady rhythm of my feet hitting the treadmill. I’m in a trance until my alarm goes off, at which point I hit the buttons to decrease the speed.

Stepping off the treadmill, I grab my towel and look over at Marissa. She’s already off her own treadmill, though, and walking for the door.

Walking right in front of me.

In tight leggings that hug her hips and lift her ass so that it…

I bite my bottom lip and suppress a groan. Nope. Not doing it. Not thinking those thoughts.

This woman is my agent, not some girl at a club that I can have one night with and then never think about again.

Closing my eyes, I march forward, determined to —

Pain flashes through my forehead as I walk right into the wall.

“Damn!” Popping my eyes open, I rub at the sore spot above my eyebrows.

Marissa hurries up to me. “What happened? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I lie, aware that the other people in the gym are looking at me. “Just… wasn’t paying attention.”

“Be careful.” She grins, and I swear she knows exactly what’s going on with me. “See you in the lobby in thirty?”

She doesn’t wait for an answer before leaving the gym. I’m left standing like an idiot, rubbing my head.

If this is how things are going to be between us, I should probably consider wearing a helmet everywhere we go.

Just like she asks, I meet her in the lobby in thirty minutes, after a quick shower and a bite grabbed at the breakfast line. We rush to the airport, hurrying through the terminal to catch our flight to Orlando.

The boarding line shuffles forward, and Marissa and I step onto the plane, bags in hand. My stomach churns with a mixture of excitement and nerves. We’ve prepared as best as we can for this meeting, but last time’s fiasco plays on repeat in my mind.

As the plane takes off, I tighten my grip on the armrest and force myself to breathe. I’m not afraid of flying, but I am afraid of falling on my face.

But this time will be different, I tell myself. I have to make sure of it.

* * *

“Mr. Elwood, Ms. White, welcome.” Noah, the Florida team rep, greets us as we enter the conference room. He extends his hand, and I shake it firmly.

“Thank you for having us,” I say, placing my other hand on the small of Marissa’s back.

She stiffens slightly at the touch, but her eyes don’t waver from the man in front of her. It’s a little off-putting since she told me to touch her this way in front of the rep. So am I missing something?

“We’re happy to be here,” Marissa tells Noah.

The rep responds with a genuine smile. His gaze flits between us, studying our dynamic. “Let’s get down to business, then, shall we?”

“Of course,” I agree, maintaining my hold on Marissa as we sit down.

I smile, hoping that he can’t tell how damn nervous I am. Marissa and I have rehearsed this moment, but a part of me still doubts that I can sell it the way she needs me to.

Yet, I do my best.

Throughout the meeting, I use body language to convey just how crazy I am about Marissa. I find myself leaning in closer to her, brushing my hand against hers whenever I reach for a document. I notice the way her breath hitches when our fingers touch, and I wonder if she’s as affected by this charade as I am.

When a strand of hair falls across her face, I take the opportunity to gently brush it back with my thumb. The softness of her cheek sends a shiver down my spine, and I suddenly realize how much I’m enjoying these small moments of intimacy.

“Your proposal is quite impressive,” Noah says after we’ve finished our presentation. “We’ll be in touch.”

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