Page 59 of A Forever Love

“Do you honestly believe news won’t make its way to St. Peppers that I took a date to the gala?”

“What?” My grip tightens around the bag. “You think Dad might find out?”

“Fuck no. I won’t let that happen, for my own safety.” Carter mutters the last words under his breath, and after a moment’s pause, he glances at me. “You can think again, Mere.”

My insecurity resurfaces from its temporary hibernation. Am I pushing Carter? “Do you think I won’t fit—”

“No.” His hand reaches for mine, his fingers brushing against the bare skin of my knees.

The sudden contact surprises me, and I can’t help the tiny jolt. I don’t know if Carter notices it, but his jaw tenses for a brief moment before he lets go of my hand.

“You’re doing me a huge favor, mittens.”

* * *

I wave a hi to Sam as we step into the building and head for the elevator.

“So, what’s on your agenda for this evening?” Carter asks, casually leaning against the gleaming metallic wall.

“Are you mocking my planning process?” I grip my bag tightly, where my cherished day planner is safely tucked inside.

“Not in the slightest, mittens. All your quirks make you the amazing person you are.”

“I’ve already agreed to be your fake date. You don’t need to flatter me any further.”

He chuckles once more. “One thing’s for sure, with you, this party won’t be as dull as the ones in the past.”

“Looks like you won the lottery—a fake girlfriend and an entertainer all in one.” I wave my hand toward myself, head to toe, and a spark blazes in Carter’s eyes as he follows my gesture.

“I’ve definitely struck gold,” he drawls, his weighted gaze meeting mine in the mirror.

My eyes threaten to bulge out of their sockets. There’s something foreign in the way he’s looking at me, and I’m hesitant to put a finger on that emotion.

Thankfully, he shakes his head before breaking into a smile. “So, Ms. Lotto, what’s your plan for this evening?”

Thinking about my evening sucks away all my energy, and I can’t even be upset at him for that stupid nickname. “I don’t have a plan, but the plan has me.”

Having been distracted for a good part of the day, I have to pay the price, which means working late to fix the bug Brandon found in my code.

“I have so much work.” My shoulders droop as I exit the elevator. “Thanks for this.” I raise the brown bag in my hand. “At least I’ve got my dinner.”

“Hell no, you’re not having junk for dinner.”

I quickly hide the bag behind my back, just before he can make a grab for it. “Don’t even think of stealing my food or I won’t be your fake girlfriend.”

Carter looms over me, every inch of his towering six-foot-two frame commanding my attention. He casually leans against the wall above my head with one arm, while the other firmly grasps my hands, clutching the bag hidden behind my back. If either of us moves even a fraction of an inch, the slim space between us will vanish, and that single thought sends a searing heat coursing through me, deep enough to penetrate my bones.

“Such a crafty little blackmailer,” Carter murmurs, his words barely audible.

The scent of his cologne, laced with hints of tobacco, vanilla, and rich spices, fills my senses. He leans in closer, and my focus narrows onto his lips—full, pink, undeniably enticing. When I glance up at his impeccably sculpted nose, Carter is following my gaze, sporting a knowing smirk as if he’s fully aware of the flustered state of my mind.

I steal one last look at his dimpled cleft and those lips curved to one side before I muster the courage to stomp on his toe. His eyes widen, and he lets out a groan, involuntarily taking a step back as I maneuver around him.

“Don’t you dare touch my snacks again.”

He finally raises his hand in surrender. “Okay. I won’t touch your snacks, but I can’t let you eat this junk when there’s even a one percent chance it might make you sick this weekend. I can’t handle those oldies on my own.”

“Feeling a little needy, are we?”

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