Page 30 of Love so Hot

"Agreed," he replies quicker than I expect, "but on the off chance we have company, we'll need to maintain appearances." He pauses, watching me closely. "We'll share a room then—just for show."

"Fine," I relent, "but let's be clear: my boundary is that no company ever comes here." I punctuate the statement with a pointed look, daring him to challenge it.

To my surprise, a genuine laugh escapes him, rich and deep, and for a split second, the tension in the room dissipates. Our eyes lock, and there's a flicker of something unspoken—an understanding, maybe, or mutual exasperation.

"I like the way you bargain," he says.

"Alright, Larry," I quip, testing the waters with a smirk.

His laughter cuts off abruptly, and his eyes darken like storm clouds rolling over the mountainside. "I told you not to call me that," he warns, the playful moment vanishing as quickly as it appeared.

"Sure thing, Larry," I repeat, unable to resist poking the bear just a little more. The name seems to strip away the layers of his poised facade. It's probably why I like it. Even though it brings out his temper, it makes him seem more real. More human.

Larry's jaw clenches, but he bites back whatever retort is simmering on his tongue. Instead, he shakes his head, a reluctant grin pulling at his lips despite himself. It's clear this charade is going to be a battle of wills—his ironclad control against my unyielding defiance.

I can't wait.

Chapter Fourteen

Willow

13 yearsold

I'm drowning in a sea of suits and fake smiles. The banquet hall's chandeliers twinkle overhead, mocking my boredom as I slump in my uncomfortable chair. I've lost count of how many of these stuffy events I've been dragged to. Probably a billion.

Under the pristine white tablecloth, I pull out the book I smuggled in my little satchel. Take that, corporate overlords! While the adults drone on about profits and quarterly earnings, I'm escaping into a world of talking animals and magic wardrobes.

I try to focus on the pages, but the monotonous voice from the presentation keeps intruding. "In Q3, we saw a 12% increase in..." Blah blah blah. Do they really find this stuff interesting? I roll my eyes and dive back into Narnia.

An hour later, I reluctantly close my book with a sigh. Finished already. Now what am I supposed to do? My stomach growls, reminding me of the dessert table I spotted earlier.

"I'm going to get some cake," I mutter to my mom. She gives a distracted nod, eyes glued to the PowerPoint slides.

I weave through the tables, dodging elbows and chairs. The dessert spread is a sugary oasis in this desert of dullness. As I approach, I notice another girl around my age eyeing the treats.

"Hi," I say, grabbing a plate and introducing myself.

She smiles shyly. "I'm Maya."

"These fancy dinners are the worst, huh?" I grab a slice of chocolate cake, feeling rebellious.

Maya nods. "So boring."

"What do you like to do for fun?"

"I love horseback riding," she says.

"That's awesome!" I reply, genuinely interested. "I've always wanted to try that."

As we chat about horses and hobbies, I can't help thinking how nice it is to talk to someone my own age at one of these things. Maybe these dinners aren't a total waste after all.

"What is it you like to do?" she asks me in return.

"Oh, you know. Plant stuff. Trees mostly."

Her eyes light up. "That's cool! Like a garden?"

I shrug. "Sort of. I try to plant as many trees as I can. Someone's gotta replace all the ones these guys keep chopping down." I gesture vaguely at the room full of businesspeople.

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