Page 82 of Hold Me Today

Her nose scrunches in confusion. “Why would they be assholes?”

There is seriously no good way to put this. I meet her gaze. Silently return her cell phone. “Because you’re not Savannah Rose.” When her shoulders jerk, I get my shit together real fast to explain what I mean. “These people”—I point at the phone she pockets in her jeans—“they’re internet trolls,koukla.”

“They seem like reasonably nice people,” she tells me stiffly.

Ah, shit.

I climb to my feet. “And theyarenice people. It’s just that . . . how do I explain this?”

“From the beginning, maybe.”

I give a low laugh. “Smartass.”

She twiddles her fingers in the air, urging me on. “Keep going.”

My girl pushes a hard bargain. Almost as hard as I do.

Heading for the mini fridge I installed as soon as my electrician did his thing, I pull out two bottles of water. “They prepped the two final contestants for the media right before it all went to shit. Might as well have been etiquette lessons for dummies—felt like it, anyway. And one thing they hammered home is that viewers grow loyalties just by watching us. Maybe one guy does something to hurt the bachelorette—viewers digest it as a personal attack. You hurt the persontheywere rooting for.” Uncapping one of the bottles, I drain half. Then hand the full one over to Mina, who’s watching me earnestly. “I may have been dumped, but now I’m worried they’ll be out hunting for blood. Yours, now that I’ve dragged you into this with me. The internet is a world of trolls.”

“But it wasyouridea for this fake relationship in the first place.” She points the top of her bottle at me. “Did you think my identity wouldn’t get out?”

Shifting my weight on my feet, I grumble, “I hoped it wouldn’t. I didn’t think . . . to be blunt, I didn’t think anyone would care enough about me to be leaking shit to the press. I’mme.”

“You’re hot, Nick.”

She says it so matter-of-factly that I can’t help but laugh. When she doesn’t join in, I toss the bottle from one hand to the other, buying myself time to think of something to say. Ultimately, I choose not to pussyfoot around the truth. “Mina, I work inconstruction. There’s nothing sexy about that. Half the guys on the show were lawyers, investment bankers, actors . . . For fuck’s sake, Dom played in the NFL.”

Lifting one brow, Mina sips from her bottle. “You own a business, which means you’re a CEO. Women love CEOs. Trust me, I listen to enough romance audiobooks to know. And, as if that’s not enough, you’re the CEO of a business that by all accounts is doing insanely well. You’re kind and funny, and your arms are just—well, let’s just say that I don’t mind eating dessert at dinner because I know you’ll be able to lift me up no matter what. You’re a catch, Nick. Cream of the crop.”

I try to smother my grin with a palm scrubbing over my mouth. Well, well, well, Mina Pappas thinks I’m acatch. A month ago, she was making fun of me for ordering two bags of popcorn on a date. Calling it like it is here: I should have kissed her years ago. Probably would have saved me from going on a show likePut A Ring On Itin the first place—if I had a girl like Mina by my side, I never would have given the show a second thought.

As if on cue, I think back to her comment about dreams manifesting when they should and never before. Was I not ready for Mina all this time? Hell, am I ready for hernow?I sure want to be, especially when faced with the thought of never having her again.

Oblivious to the dangerous direction of my thoughts, Mina says, “And in case you were wondering, everyone commenting on my pictures seems wicked nice. They’re sending me DMs and asking me whenAgapeis opening. The thought that even a few of them might turn into clients is beyond exciting, particularly since I can now count all that I have on one hand. And—hold onto your panties, here—but they’reactuallycommenting about how cute we are together.”

Well, that’s . . . surprising. The cute thing, I mean. Everyone should want Mina as their hairdresser—that goes without saying.

By leavingPut A Ring On Itas I did, I expected some bumps and bruises after coming home to Boston. Once the footage leaked of Savannah Rose turning me down, those expectations metamorphosized into a very real reality of shit going south. Only, Mina and I have somehow managed to create our own narrative through no real effort on our part. Each moment that’s been broadcasted to the press is all too real. That kiss in Downtown Tattoo, that raw moment of us standing outside my parents’ house. What thisCelebrity Teasite is capturing is a man falling in love.

Falling in love.

My eyes fly shut at the realization, just before I shove it in a lockbox and throw away the key. Mina’s made no secret about being fearful of relationships and commitments—and I had sex with her knowing where she stands.

A fling.

This is only a fling.

The thought rings surprisingly hollow.

I guzzle the rest of my water, wishing I could just dump it all over my head instead. “Production is going to lose their shit over this.”

“Do you really care? This Savannah girl turned you down. Not that she’s not nice—I’m sure she is—but do you really care about whatproductionthinks? They’ll air the season when they air the season. Live your life the way you want to.”

And Iamliving my life exactly how I want. Only . . . “She didn’t turn me down.”

I flick my gaze over to Mina in time to catch her jaw dropping open. “I’m sorry, but I thought you just said . . . I’ve seen that shot of you two on the beach when she told you no.Everyonehas seen that shot. Everyone and their mother—except for youryiayia.” She blinks, her honey gaze locked on my face. “That day in your office, you told me you weren’t engaged.”

God, this is going to be awkward.

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