Page 21 of Hard to Fake

Nova points, and mygaze lands on Miles.

He's so hot it’s like a gut punch.

His dark hair curls around his ears. He stands out even in a room full of athletes, his relaxed grace beyond sexy because it’s entirely natural.

"Who's the Kodashian?" Nova asks. Now that I look, he’s talking to a familiar woman in a black catsuit that probably takes longer to get off than it did to get on.

“Aliya. She was at the shoot the other day.”

“She’s come to the bar before,” Sierra weighs in. “She’s a snob and a terrible tipper.”

I’m surprised he’d bring her here… and a little disappointed, especially when he said they were only hooking up.

Not that I spend time thinking about the kind of woman Miles should be with. But obviously, if she’s more than some Kodashian, she should be smart, and fun, and enough of a ball-buster to challenge him.

I put my fingers to my lips and whistle. Heads swivel to face me, a few people covering their ears.

Moments later, Waffles races through the crowd, jumping excitedly to plant his sturdy paws on my legs.

“Hey, handsome!” I say, bending to scratch his cute little ears.

He’s nothing like Toto, but he’s perfect. We never had a dog growing up, but I wish we had.

Waffles and I are still having our lovefest when a set of feet—human and enormous—stop in front of me. I do my best to straighten, which is hard while being half drunk with a broken heel.

My reward is pure male hotness in the form of long legs, a wide torso, and a handsome face.

Miles is wearing camouflage pants and a faux fur vest with nothing beneath it, his hair swept back off his face in a way that makes his nose and jaw even sharper. In the low light, it’s impossible to see the warmth in his blue eyes, but I feel it penetrate my skin.

Miles’s gaze flicks over me, lingering on my legs. “Dorothy with daddy issues?”

“Haha.” I nod to the plastic axe hanging from his belt. “Are you Rambo?”

“Mountain Ken.” He tosses his hair back.

Someone hollers for Clay, and the big, tattooed man looks up.

“I’ll be back.” He brushes his lips over Nova’s. It’s sweet and sexy.

I’m the least romantic woman in the world, but even I have to bite my cheek to keep from sighing.

Someone passes by with Jell-O shots, and I grab two.

“Why thank you.” Miles takes one from me, our skin brushing.

“They were both for me,” I grumble.

We clink glasses and toss back our drinks.

The music changes, and Nova makes a dash for the floor. “I need to dance to this. Catch you guys in a second.”

I watch her weave through the crowd, meeting up with Clay. He drags her against him.

“No one should be that cute,” I say.

“Almost makes you believe in love,” he agrees.

“Do you? Believe in love?”

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