Page 24 of Her Dark Angel

I’m too stunned to speak. Between Nash hitting me with a surprise kiss and watching him drink Jack Daniels like it’s going out of fashion, I’m unable to form a single word.

Nash inhales a deep breath and flings the car door open. Moments later, the shuttering of photos being taken is almost deafening as Nash walks around the car to my door.

I close my eyes and ready myself for what is about to happen. Although I had a major freak-out moments ago, I know deep down I can do this. Despite my inner demons trying to convince me otherwise. They almost won for a second there, but I won’t let them consume me.

You’re an actress, Kin. Just pretend this is another movie and you’re playing the role of yourself.

The door swings open and I’m instantly met with loud gasps of surprise. Then, the shutter sounds grow louder as photo after photo is snapped of Nash helping me out of the back seat. His hand goes around my waist, holding me close to his side as we step onto the red carpet. My fake smile is set in place as we make our way down the carpet. We stop every few steps to smile for a photo before we move on to the next.

James made sure to reach out to each media team attending the award show to say that Nash won’t be doing any interviews. They had no idea it would be because Nash would be with his new girlfriend. Adam said this is because we need to be seen as a couple first before we start making statements to the media.

I’m grateful for this decision because I don’t think I would be able to speak to anyone right now even if I wanted to. I feel like the biggest fraud as we join the rest of the attendees on the carpet for photos.

It doesn’t take long for the whispering and curious glances to start. I feel everyone’s eyes on us, and it’s making me nervous. Are they convinced we’re a couple? Or can they see right through our facade?

When I look up at Nash, his features are turned down in a bored expression as if he has somewhere else to be, and I’m sure he does.

I wonder if events like this mean anything to him or if he simply comes for the free food and booze. I don’t know how he’s not wobbling on his legs from the amount of alcohol he consumed before stepping out of the car. It’s oddly impressive. I would’ve died of embarrassment if he was stumbling around in front of everyone. It wouldn’t have been a good start to the night.

“Everyone is watching us,” I whisper to Nash.

He looks down at me. “So? That’s what we want.”

I glance around at the watchful eyes of the most popular artists in the music industry and swallow hard. Beautiful women in dresses only the best money can buy walk the carpet ahead of us. Seeing them flaunt their figures in such exquisite dresses makes me feel underdressed. Maybe I should have worn something with more color to bring out the blue in my eyes, or make my blonde hair pop.

The couple walking behind us are two of the biggest names in the music industry right now—Shannon and Jason Taylor. A power duo with chart topping hit after hit. They’re a household name if you don’t live under a rock. Seeing them together in person, holding hands and wrapped in each other’s arms as they pose for the cameras, has me worried Nash and I aren’t doing enough to convince the public we’re dating.

“Do you think they know?”

Nash sighs. “Little devil, you need to get out of your head or you’re going to ruin this for us.”

I huff because he’s right. I’m the one who’s freaking out, not him. I need to learn to relax and just go with the flow. I can’t mess up now.

We continue to take photos along the carpet, and my anxiety seems to cool off a little. But when I see the end of the red carpet, I swallow hard. This is it. The moment of the big kiss. I try to drown out the media personnel calling out my name to look their way and just focus on walking in these heels and smiling.

When we reach the end of the carpet, Nash and I turn to face each other. His mismatched eyes appear brighter under the harsh lights lining the carpet.

I inhale a deep breath and meet his gaze. “Now?”

Nash doesn’t respond. Instead, he plants his large hands firmly on my hips and bends down to press his lips against mine. They’re just as soft as they were moments ago, but the whiskey taste is stronger. Although it’s just a simple peck on the lips for the cameras, something stirs deep within my core that has me forcing back a frown.

The voices from the journalists and media personnel are almost deafening, along with the shuttering from the cameras. If we weren’t convincing with our relationship, everyone wouldn’t be so shocked and desperate to snap a photo, right? At least, that’s what I’m trying to convince myself of.

Nash is the first to pull away. A grin takes over his lips as he smiles down at me, but I know he’s doing it for the cameras, so I return the smile. After a moment, we turn to face the media again to snap a few more photos before we’re ushered off the carpet and into the arena where the award show is taking place.

I do my best to keep the fake smile on my lips until we’re seated at a table near the front of the stage. As we walk through the room, I feel everyone’s eyes on us. I’m sure it’s unusual to see Nash Beck with a woman on his arm since he’s notorious for showing up stag or with the rest of Dark Angel. Or it could be the fact they’re confused to see the two of us together since we are two very different people from opposite walks of life.

Nash pulls out my seat for me and I settle down it, my eyes darting around the room. He takes the seat next to me and sighs. He closes his eyes and rolls his neck from side to side as if to relieve tension in his shoulders.

“I’m glad that’s fucking over,” he grumbles as he reaches for the glass of champagne already poured on the table.

“Me too,” I respond and look around the empty table. There are three empty seats. “Are the rest of your bandmates coming too?”

Nash meets my eyes over the rim of the champagne glass. “They’ll be here soon. It’s not unsurprising that they’re running late.”

“What are they doing?”

Nash shrugs and leans back in the seat after consuming every last drop of liquid in the glass. “If I had to guess, they’re probably at the strip club getting plastered and high. If I didn’t have to do this whole show-and-tell with you, I would be with them.”

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