Page 78 of The Fake Dating War

“How inconvenient for you?”

“That’s a mild word for it, but yes. And not where I thought it would be inconvenient.” He rubs a fist over the middle of his chest, his mouth pulling into a deep, displeased scowl. “Don’t cry,” orders Coleman. “Seriously. You can’t cry.”

I can’t help but laugh. Only he’d try applying rules to something as unruly as an emotional breakdown. “Yes, sir.”

Andthatwas the absolutely wrong thing to say. Silence falls between us with a whole different energy thickening the air. It’s electric, almost to an unmanageable degree.

I briefly see his hands curl into fists before he slides them into his pockets. He turns, glancing back at the door. Desperate for escape? Well, I’ve inconvenienced him a lot. I should be pushing him out myself. Crying in front of another person is the absolute worst. I can count on one hand the times I’ve done it, and each memory haunts me when I remember it.

“Better you don’t say sir to me,” he eventually says, his voice brusque.

Never one to easily follow orders, I debate ignoring him and sayingSiragain.

But no. That’s mad. My hands clasp together, fingers fidgeting. Intrusive thoughts have taken over my brain. I’m wanting to know if that’s a Bedroom Thing for him, and then because I’m a pervy lowlife, I’m also wondering what his bulge feels like and how much it’ll dwarf my palm in comparison.

“Thank you for saving my face,” I finally say, proud of how non-moany my voice is. “The woman who did my makeup would be mad if I ruined all her hard work.”

“No problem, Patel. Ask me to be your hero any time.”

His smug tone is back, and he’s back to facing me. Guess he’s ready to move on from this topic of conversation. I should be smart and do the same.

That means I shouldn’t imagine his hand in my hair again, and how I could pull his in return just to hear him snarl—and force him to tug mine harder?—

“You can’t go backwards.” Coleman tilts his head at me. “What did you mean when you said that? What’s going backwards for you mean?”

The man’s attention to detail is unrivaled, so, of course, he caught that part.

“Maybe you don’t know all the facts about me,” I answer, trying to be vague and aloof, my hip cocking out.

“So tell me.”

“It’s not…relevant.”

Instead of answering, he raises an eyebrow.

Right. It was only the complete source of my breakdown.

“It happened two years ago,” I hedge.

“What happened?”

I lick my lips.

His green eyes immediately lower… staring at my mouth. Something intense crosses his expression. He steps forward and puts his fingers assertively on my chin.

“Don’t do that,” he gruffly chides.

“Do what?” I ask, blatantly licking the edge of my lips again.

His pupils enlarge.

“Don’t,” he whispers, warning me again and tilting my head up so it’s closer to his.

“Or?”

Is this… Are we going to kiss?

44

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