Page 26 of Fake Fiancé for the Billionaire Rockstar

My grip on the hot chocolate tightens, knuckles white against the cup. A splash of liquid escapes, landing on my clothes, but I barely notice. My heart’s racing, a mix of anticipation and dread. “No, thanks,” I manage to say, but my voice lacks conviction.

“Well, looks like you might have to deal with it anyway,” he says as our driver pulls behind a car waiting in line.

There're thousands of Christmas lights surrounding us, kids running gleefully along the grass as they clap at each of the displays, and I smile at them before quickly concealing the emotion. I’m not going to let him see that I’ve been enjoying myself. It will only drive him to do more and I don’t think I’ll be able to handle it.

But as I take in the twinkling lights and the joyful faces around us, I feel my resolve weakening. This is the kind of magic I’ve been missing, the kind of experience I’ve denied myself in pursuit of my career. And Donny, damn him, seems to know exactly what I need.

“We can get out here,” Donny says to the driver before opening his door and holding his hand out for me to take.

I stare at his outstretched hand, caught in a moment of indecision. My mind screams to keep my distance, but my traitorous body has other ideas. As my fingers slide into Donny’s, a jolt of warmth travels up my arm, radiating from the firm pressure of his hand. His palm is rough, yet comforting, grounding me in the moment as the cold air nips at my exposed skin. My body tingles with the contact, heart thudding in syncwith footsteps on the frosty pavement. Donny’s hold is firm, warm, grounding. I should break free, but I can’t bring myself to let go.

He stares at me for a moment, unblinking, but a horn honking behind us has him shaking from the moment and carefully helping me out of the car. Even when we’re standing in the middle of the line, which is moving achingly slowly, Donny keeps his hand in mine and threads our fingers together.

This goes against everything I stand for as his manager, but the deeper part of me is what has me squeezing his hand and letting him lead me between the cars to the entrance. The attendant at the window eyes us curiously, then he does a double-take as he gets a closer look at Donny and quickly rushes to give us our tickets.

As we start through the entrance, a few kids rush in front of us with giggles and I watch them with a small smile. It’s a quick reaction, one that I should’ve known would come eventually, but I hate that it’s coming when I’m with Donny.

This is what I want, eventually.

I want the kids running around, playfully happy with each other, while me and their dad follow behind them with smiles on our faces.

With the way my love life is going, I highly doubt that’s in the cards for me anytime soon.

“Oh,” Donny says, tugging on my hand and pulling me from my wayward thoughts. “Let’s check this out.”

There’s a large section of the space with what looks like a western-looking diner, which is where Donny pulls us, and a few different exhibits for kids to enjoy. It doesn’t surprise me when I see a cluster of kids burst out of the building across the gravel road, eyes bouncing excitedly at each other’s treats, but I don’t get much longer to watch them before I’m being pulled through the diner doors.

“We’ll eat, then enjoy ourselves. Sound good, Sunshine?”

“I’d like it better if we ate and figured out how to handlethis,” I mutter, gesturing between the two of us.

As if realizing he’s still holding my hand, Donny drops it and takes a couple of steps away from me with a frown while running a hand through his blonde curls. My eyes zero in on the movement, and I wonder what it would feel like if I were to slip my fingers between the strands.

I bet they’d be smooth. This thought leads me to another, more dangerous one, about tugging at the strands while he tries to coax me to release.

“Hi, welcome to—” The hostess’s cheerful greeting cuts off abruptly as her eyes land on Donny. Her jaw drops slightly, and I can almost see the star-struck recognition dawning in her widening eyes. “Oh my God, you’re Donny from Raising Havoc!”

Her voice, now pitched higher with excitement, draws a few curious glances from nearby diners. Donny offers a polite smile, the one I’ve seen him use countless times with fans.

“We’d appreciate some discretion,” he whispers, his charm on full display.

The hostess nods, her cheeks flushing. “Of course, of course!” She turns to me then, her smile dimming just a fraction as she seems to remember I exist. “Table for two?”

I do my best to push aside the flicker of irritation at her blatant infatuation with Donny. This is the last kind of attention we need right now. My mouth twitches, tempted to smirk, but I hold it in check as she guides us to a table in the center of the dining room. Donny pulls out a chair for me, nodding politely to the hostess before settling across from me with a faint smile.

I’ll give him this right now, but there’s no way I’m ending tonight without going over what our next move will be. I can’t be this close to him much longer, aside from the mandatory rehearsals with the band and any other meetings.

***

The shrill ring of my phone jolts me awake, shattering the lingering warmth of a dream I can’t quite remember. Groaning, I fumble for the device, squinting at the bright screen. My heart leaps into my throat as I see my mother’s name flashing. So much for a peaceful morning.

Her call is like a bucket of cold water being dumped on me, and I eagerly jump out of bed while simultaneously swiping my finger along the screen. “Mom, hi,” I say breathlessly into the line.

“Carmen, sweetie, how is everything going with that concert of yours?”

“About as well as expected,” I mumble, then press the phone between my shoulder and while I start a cup of coffee for myself. “Is everything okay?”

“I was just calling to talk about the Christmas trip, making sure you remembered it was happening earlier this year.”

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