Page 158 of By His Rule

Tonight’s date and maybe a photo or two would have helped get rid of him. Or at least I can hope that it would have. But spending Saturday night in my apartment with only a glass of wine for company isn’t going to convince anyone that I’ve moved on with my life.

I’m still scrolling when my cell begins buzzing with an incoming call.

My heart lurches at the thought of it being him, but the second my eyes land on the person calling, I relax.

“Hey,” I say the second the video call has connected and my best friend’s face fills the screen. “How was last night?”

She rolls her eyes. “Exhausting. I swear every single person wanted to personally congratulate us.”

“Aw, that’s sweet,” I say, fully aware of how much Tate would have hated all the attention. I know because I’d feel exactly the same. The only difference is she’s been brought up in these elite circles and wouldn’t have stared back at them with her best resting bitch face fully in place. I, however, am less skilled at hiding my true feelings.

“Uh huh,” she mutters. “King killed his speech, though, so that was good.”

“Were you expecting him to do anything but?”

“No, but seeing him nervous was funny as hell.”

“King gets nervous, who’d have thought it?” I tease.

“I know, right? He’d kill me if he knew I told you.”

“Your secret’s safe with me. Maybe.”

“So…” she starts, her eyes twinkling with excitement. “How was your night?”

“Fine,” I mutter, reluctantly.

“Oh, come on, Lori. You looked fucking stunning, by the way.”

“You saw me?”

“Haven’t you been on Instagram?”

A weird mix of dread and excitement war inside me.

Maybe we didn’t need a date tonight to publicly announce our fake relationship.

“Clearly not,” I mutter as I open the app. “Oh shit,” I gasp when I find more notifications than I think I’ve ever had before.

“Told you so. Everyone and their wife wants to know who the beautiful woman is smiling up at Kian Callahan like he’s personally handed her the moon.”

My stomach twists uncomfortably.

“I am not looking at him like that. I’m glaring at him in pure irritation.”

“Bullshit,” she coughs. “Admit it. He looks good.”

“When don’t any of the Callahan brothers look good?” I mutter, wondering how it’s possible that even on their worst days they look like they’ve just walked off a runway.

Kian in a tux, though…almost as good as those gray sweats from this morning.

Heat blooms in my lower belly as I think about what they were hiding—or not hiding, as the case may have been. And how it felt pressed against my stomach as we made out in the gym.

Bad move, Lorelei. Bad fucking move.

“What’s that face for?” Tate asks. We’ve been each other’s ride or die for so long now that one look can tell a thousand words.

“N-nothing.”

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