Page 125 of Some Like It Hot

My heart swells. “Thanks.”

“You two are so cute,” the woman says with a hearts-in-her-eyes look.

But what’s especially funny is that it’s clear she has no idea who Blake is.

“Thank you for the photos,” I tell her.

“Of course! I hope you’re happy forever!” She waves to us as she moves off.

I keep my smile in place.

She’s so sweet. But that last word hit me hard.

I mean, I know this is short term. Of course it is. That’s been the plan all along. But I guess in the back of my mind maybe I’ve been thinking that even if we don’t stay married, because that would be crazy, Blake and I could still see each other.

But forever? Yeah, that’s not in the cards.

Even if I suddenly want it to be.

No, that’s just insane.

Blake is moving far away.

I’m entrenched in Chicago.

But more importantly, he doesn’t love me.

Even if I love him.

Oh, God, I’m in love with Blake.

My heart is suddenly racing and I suddenly grasp the obvious. I didn’t offer to marry Blake because we’re friends. I’m in love with him.

Houston, we have a fucking problem.

“Hey, you okay?” he asks, noticing that I’m still staring after her.

I look up at him and force a smile. “Yes. Of course. She was so nice.”

“She was. I have some amazing photos to share on social media.” He pulls me close and holds up his phone, scrolling through the shots so we can both see them. “We look good together.”

I can’t deny that. “We really do.”

I look like I’m in love. It’s written all over my face. I’m beaming. Glowing, even. It’s so damn obvious. How does Blake not see that?!

Maybe because he doesn’t want to see it.

“You ready to get out of here?” he asks, no idea I’m suddenly going through a massive existential crisis.

I’m definitely ready to get out of here. If I stay here any longer, or someone actually recognizes Blake, I’m going to panic a little bit.

I need time to regroup before tonight.

I give him a little smile. It’s not really our wedding night, but he has a game tonight, so getting home to bed won’t be until late. Me being at the game tonight as his wife was part of our plan. We’re hoping to get a bunch of attention, make it as real as we can by using the fans and team, maybe even the media, and get even more social media posts circulating about our impromptu marriage. And someone—probably a broken-hearted Blake Wilder female fan—will definitely research the legitimacy of our marriage license. Heidi won’t be able to argue with all of that proof.

Which now all feels very overwhelming. I need to pull myself together, and in order to do that, I need him to rip this wedding dress off of me. Hopefully, with his teeth.

“My place or yours?” I ask coyly, eager for the distraction.

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