Page 13 of Fake Fiancé for the Billionaire Rockstar

All I have to do is get a handle on the story, erase any traces of it, and they’ll never know. It should be easy.

The guys each stride down the hall, away from their small dressing rooms, and I eye Donny as he walks past. His jeanstoday are hanging more loosely today, but the shirt he’s got on doesn’t hide a single muscle. I suck in a sharp breath, unable to turn my eyes away from him, and only the sound of someone clearing their throat has me snapping out of it with a frown.

“Nothing,” Mia says in amusement, then she starts heading toward the stage to watch the guys. “Right.”

Instead of following her, I keep myself rooted in this spot because I refuse to get lost in Donny again. He might be attractive, any woman who’s not blind would agree to that, but that doesn’t mean anything in the grand scheme of things.

Help him, then walk away.

That's what a professional would do. But as I watch Donny walk past, his presence magnetic, I realize it's anything but simple.

***

Hours later, as I stand in front of my mirror, I realize how naive I've been. This isn't simple at all. It's a complex dance of emotions and expectations, and I'm stumbling through every step.

I smooth down my dark purple dress, the fabric clinging to every curve. The neckline plunges into a deep V, showing just enough cleavage to be enticing. My hair tumbles loose around my shoulders—a far cry from my usual severe updo.

I open the door, expecting Donny in his usual rockstar getup. Instead, I'm face-to-face with a stranger.

Well, stranger. It's Donny, but... different. Devastatingly handsome in light jeans and a button-up, sleeves rolled to expose strong forearms. My mouth goes dry.

Fake date, I remind myself. But my racing heart doesn't seem to care.

I eye the veins running along his arm, watch glistening against his wrist, and finally meet his gaze.

His eyes flare as he trails them over my frame, taking my exposed thighs and strappy heels. I clear my throat and shift nervously. “I’m ready when you are.”

Donny snaps out of whatever the moment is and frowns at me. “Not without a coat you aren’t, you’ll get sick before the night is over with.”

Oops.

As quickly as possible, I hurry through my apartment and into my room to search my closet for the perfect coat to go with my dress. I’m not the most stylish woman, but that’s only because I don’t try. My fingers stop on a silver coat hanging and I tug it away, then slip my arms through it.

Donny's waiting in the doorway, hands shoved deep in his pockets, muttering to himself. At the click of my heels, he looks up, and the grin he flashes steals my breath away.

I stumble, my ankle turning. In an instant, Donny's there, strong arms catching me. We're pressed chest to chest, his cologne enveloping me. My cheeks burn.

Get yourself together, Carmen.

"Easy there," he murmurs, his breath warm on my ear. He doesn't let go immediately, and I find I don't want him to. Finally, he steps back, taking my hand. "You look beautiful, as always."

My heart skips. It's just for show, I remind myself. But God, it feels good.

“There’s no one around, you don’t have to say things like that.”

Something flashes across his face, but it’s gone just as quickly as he comes and Donny drops my hand before taking a step back. “Right, sorry. Just trying to get used to things, my parents will expect us to be the lovey dovey type when they get here in a couple days.”

I nod, then gesture to the door. “Shall we?”

The walk to the car waiting for us outside is silent, along with the ride to the restaurant, and I chew on the inside of my cheek nervously.

This was a mistake. We can barely think of two words to say to each other.

When the car comes to a stop at a curb, I quickly unhook my belt and climb out of the vehicle. Donny frowns as he comes around, then shakes his head and presses a soft kiss to my temple. It’s light, barely there, but my body heats from the simple touch regardless. “Next time, wait for me, Sunshine.”

“I’m capable of opening my own door, Donny.”

He smirks. “I don’t doubt that,” he says gently as we head toward the glass double doors that lead into the restaurant and his hand falls over the small of my back, “but my mother would kill me if she knew you were doing it around me.”

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