Page 14 of The Fake Date Deal

I shuddered, reminded of his parting note. Condescending was right. He’d always struck me that way, a little aloof. Caught up in himself. I’d blamed it at first on him being a prince, but the more I saw and heard of him, the less I believed it.

“He talked the whole time,” I said. “On our first date. He tells a good story, so I didn’t notice at first. But when I looked back, he never asked any questions. We were going to get married, and he never knew who I was. Or, he assumed he knew all he needed.”

Marco tore his Danish in two down the middle. “You’re describing a psychopath. I read a book once. It said they don’t see other people as real.”

I reached for my phone again, sick of Rafael. I scrolled through instead till I found something better, shots of us roaring away in Marco’s Audi, and one just before that, him adjusting my seat belt. Hearts and hug emojis bubbled up when I tapped.

aw he’s so sweet!!!!!! doing up her seat belt

look at the way he’s locked on her eyes

any more chemistry and they’d explode lol

“Send me that one,” said Marco. “I want to save it.”

I beamed it to his phone and saved a copy for myself. It was a sweet memory, a pleasant shared moment. I’d felt cared-for then, as I had in his bed. Like for the time I had with him, I was the center of his world.

I reached for more bacon, and our hands brushed. Marco took the tongs and served me the last slices. My heart fluttered wildly, and then he winked.

“You know, I had fun last night. I think you did too. If you want to get more revenge…”

My heart did a backflip. “More revenge? When?”

“Whenever you want me.”

I wanted him now, right here on the table. That edge in his voice had my whole body tingling. But what he was offering… now was my chance. I smiled, sly and sneaky, and took a bite of my bacon.

“When do you race next against Rafael?”

“Next month, I think. On his home turf. Spain.”

I bit my lip, nervous, and pressed on anyway. “What if we dated the whole time, till then? If we were everywhere, so he couldn’t escape us? You could get in his head, and I’d win our breakup.”

“Win your breakup…” Marco chuckled. “You’re competitive. I like that.”

“So what do you say?”

“I say, let’s kiss on it.” He pulled me toward him. I fell into him, giggling, and we kissed deep and sweet. I didn’t stop to think if we were asking for trouble, or what would become of us at the end of our month. I didn’t think much beyond God yes, kiss me, and kiss me again, and never stop kissing. And then he was spinning me back to the bed, and it was glorious, and what could go wrong?

CHAPTER 6

MARCO

I’d fucked up my ritual, lost in a sex haze, but it didn’t matter. At least, not today. I had that feeling I sometimes got, relaxed and invincible. Nothing could faze me. My vision was crisp and clear, all my nerves on alert, reflexes ready to spring into action. Today’s race was mine; I knew in my marrow.

“Sit down,” said Danny, batting my arm. We were out on the tarmac behind the drivers’ rooms, wanting some fresh air before the race. A few chairs had been set up, but I didn’t feel like sitting. I did some squats instead, and set Danny groaning. We’d met racing, and hung out sometimes after, but our conflicting rituals usually meant we didn’t talk at the track. I read to get centered. He sat outside. But I didn’t need my dose of Cormac McCarthy today. I had my predator’s edge on without his grim prose.

Danny shook his head. “Dear God. It’s in love.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You. Look at you. Your girl’s in town and you’re all bullfrogged.”

I scowled at him. “Bullfrogged?”

“Yeah. All puffed up.” He thrust his chest out to illustrate. “You’re strutting around like a big, horny bullfrog, like we’re not already jealous as hell. How’d you even meet her?”

I shrugged, faux-casual. “Out at some club. She came up and said hi, and we’ve been hanging since then.”

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