Page 36 of The Fake Out

Ignoring my directive, they kept up with the chatter until the water shut off. Finally, probably worried Emerson would overhear, they shut their traps. But when he opened the door, I couldn’t look away. He was dressed in a pair of gym shorts, just like he’d been before, but all his tanned skin glistened, still damp from the shower. His shoulders, tight chest, and six-pack abs were all on display.

For a heartbeat, he stood in the doorway, eyes locked on me. I couldn’t drag my attention away as one corner of his mouth kicked up in a smile and he ran a hand over his well-defined chest.

“I’m gonna get dressed.” With that, he ambled across the room, and as he passed me, he settled his hot palm over the small strap of my tank top. When he dug his fingers into my skin and squeezed gently, my heart skipped. My breath caught and froze as I stared into his eyes in the mirror. “Looking good, Mariposa.”

His deep voice echoed through me, but before I could even react, the warmth of his hand left my skin, and he walked away.

The second the door shut behind him. Linc fanned himself. “I’m telling you—you need to jump that man.”

I glared, choking down the desire that single touch had ignited in me. Turning back to the mirror, I forced myself to refocus and let Linc finish before I put on my dress.

When I stepped out of the bathroom in the red satin, both Linc’s and Mila’s eyes snapped wide.

“Too much?” I skated my hands down the fabric over my hips. The dress was fitted through the hips before the slit up the thigh let the satin flare out to the floor. The dip of the neckline wouldn’t be too much on most, but being an F cup since I was thirteen meant that sometimes I had to be careful about the line between hot and too much.

“No, but damn, Emerson might die.” Linc laughed.

“Did you do the bend and shake?” Mila gently asked, confirming that I wouldn’t fall out of my top.

I nodded. Spanx with supportive cups were my friend.

“Now go out there and convince that man he needs his hands all over your curves.” Linc waggled his brows.

I rolled my eyes, but when I walked out of my room into the open living area and found him dressed in his black-on-black suit, it was hard not to want to agree with my friend.

There was fire in Emerson’s eyes as they hovered over me. The way they paused at the neckline of my dress, then slowly scanned down to my hips and back up, had my body heating.

He cleared his throat. “You. Are. Gorgeous.”

Stomach flipping, I stepped closer. In that moment, it felt as if he wanted me. But in the next second, he spoke, and the words were like a bucket of ice water poured over my head. “The idiot ex is going to hate himself, and I’ll play my part to make him jealous.”

A lump formed in my throat. Was that all it was to him? Oh course. That was what he’d agreed to do. So I pulled my shoulders back, harnessing my don’t fuck with me vibe and shielding myself against the emotions threatening to ravage me.

“Ready?” I asked.

He watched me carefully for a minute, his expression thoughtful, before he nodded and turned to my friends. “It was nice meeting you both. If you want to hang here, feel free.”

“We’re headed back to the hotel to change, then going bar hopping.” Linc rubbed his hand together. “Need to find my girl a hookup.”

“It’s funny how we have such different plans for the same night.” Mila’s eyes were bright as she turned to us. “Have fun.”

“I left my keys if you need them,” I said with a quick hug to Linc. After I wrapped Mila in a hug too, Emerson opened the door and ushered me into the hall.

He was quiet on the elevator, cracking his knuckles and keeping his focus fixed on the number panel in front of him. I’d never seen him this nervous.

Once we settled back into the black Mercedes, I broke the silence. “You okay?”

He nodded and cleared his throat. “I’ve just never done a formal event like this before.”

I frowned. Never? Chris did them all the time. “How is that possible?”

He rubbed his hands on his pants and then looked at me out of the corner of his eye. “The team usually calls on me for the funny stuff, like a pie in the face. I’m not the guy who goes to the big-ticket fundraisers. And you—” He took me in, his gaze searing me as he looked his fill. He forced a swallow and met my eyes. “You are so beautiful it makes my chest hurt.”

My heart squeezed in response to the quiet comment. Beautiful wasn’t a word I heard a lot. Pretty or curvy, maybe. But no one called me beautiful. Cheeks heating with a combination of embarrassment and pleasure, I reached up to touch my hair before I remembered that Linc had done it. The last thing I wanted was to mess it up.

“Sorry,” Emerson said, his face set in an earnest frown. “I just want to be a good date, not the dumbass who crashes into a table or tells a stupid joke. I just want you to be proud that I’m the guy on your arm.”

That caused a totally different kind of pang in my chest. Every line on his face was etched with worry. It was a look I’d never seen on the always smiling man. “Emerson,” I whispered, grasping his hand. His fingers were long and firm as they wrapped around mine. “Just be you, and we’ll have a good time.” When the worry in his expression didn’t ease. I added, “I don’t think you’re a dumbass at all—I just really like hanging out with you.”

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