Page 38 of Fake Fiancé for the Billionaire Rockstar

It’s completely dark, save for the occasional flicker of snow pressed against the window, and the cabin is so quiet I can hear every breath he takes.

And yet, the thought that lingers most isn’t frustration or regret. It’s a relief. Relief that, in this lonely place, with the world shut out by a storm, he’s here.

I lie still, acutely aware of every inch separating us—the warmth radiating from his side of the bed. It’s too easy to imagine what it would feel like if he wrapped an arm around me, his body close, steady and solid in the dark.

And the truth is... I don’t think I’d mind.

14

Donny

Carmen’s warm body ispressed against mine when I wake, her soft breaths tickling my neck. For a moment, I let myself imagine this as my everyday life. I carefully slip out of bed, making sure not to wake her.

As I move away, I spot a family photo on her nightstand—Carmen at about six, smiling brightly between her parents and brother. It hits me how little I actually know about her life outside of work. I make a mental note to ask her about her childhood over breakfast.

The door’s still frozen shut, but I’m not worried. We’ll figure this out, one way or another.

I’m not sure if Carmen will sleep in, but I set out enough eggs, bacon, and coffee just in case she joins me while I’m cooking.There’s enough food in here for a few days, but I’m concerned about what will happen if we are stuck in any longer. I assume that Carmen’s parents are the ones who stocked each of the cabins, or Walker, and I wish I could thank them properly for their generosity.

Instead of dwelling on the storm, my mind drifts to last night—the moment the power cut out, leaving us in complete darkness. I found her standing still, barely breathing, and without thinking, I reached for her. The way she melted into me, trusting me without hesitation, hit me harder than I expected. It wasn’t just about keeping her safe—it was something more. Moments like that make it hard to remind myself that this whole charade isn’t going to last. Because in that darkness, holding her close felt real.

She had this softness about her that I’d never seen before and it instantly made me want to be closer to her.

The aroma of coffee fills the cabin, a comforting contrast to the harsh winter landscape outside. I glance out the window, the blanket of white reminding me of our isolation, before turning my attention back to breakfast preparations.

I drop strips of bacon into a skillet, which sizzles as soon as it hits the pan, and while those start searing, I whisk eggs in a bowl for an omelet. Soon enough I’ve got the eggs cooking in another pan, filled with chopped peppers and onion, with shredded cheese sprinkled in the middle, and once the bacon is cooked enough, I add that into the mix.

It’s when I’m putting toast onto a plate when Carmen finally emerges from the bedroom and I have to squeeze my eyes shut to contain the groan, desperate to crawl up my throat.

She’s got an oversized tee shirt on and it barely hangs over her ass. Her hairs pulled into a haphazard bun, like she got out of bed and twisted it without thought.

“Something smells good this morning,” she mumbles while reaching for the coffeepot that I’ve already got overflowing with coffee.

I know she’s talking to me, yet I can’t bring myself to form words in response.

As if sensing my dilemma, she turns to look at me over her shoulder and arches a brow. “Are we just going to let the food burn?”

“Shit,” I mutter, then hurry over to the stove and flip the omelet.

Carmen glides over, her presence as warm as the stove’s heat. I stiffen involuntarily as she peers around me at the pan, her voice soft. “Mmm, love a good omelet.”

When I don’t answer, she backs away, a challenge in her eyes. “Cat got your tongue this morning, Drummer Boy?”

I turn, catching her eye over my shoulder. “Just enjoying the view, Sunshine,” I say, my voice low. “It’s not often I get to share breakfast with someone so beautiful.”

The words slipped out before I could stop them, and I saw a flicker of uncertainty cross her face. Right. This is supposed to be pretend.

I fully turn around, and my breath catches in my throat. My eyes involuntarily trace the lines of her body, drinking in the sight of her curves and bare legs. I try to look away, to be a gentleman, but I'm mesmerized.

Carmen watches me, her brow furrowing slightly as she notices my stare. Then, as if suddenly aware of her state of undress, her eyes widen and she glances down at herself. A soft gasp escapes her lips, and a rosy blush blooms across her cheeks, spreading down her neck. Then she’s hurrying into the bedroom without another word.

A few moments pass by when she comes back out into the kitchen, now completely dressed instead of half-naked, and I find that I’m able to breathe a little easier. I’m also able to look at her without thinking about what it would’ve been like to strip the shirt from her and see what she’s hiding underneath it all.

My cock jumps at attention with that thought and I groan softly, doing my best to adjust myself discreetly before I turn around and put Carmen’s plate in front of her. She stares at me for a moment, her cheeks tinting that pretty pink again, and brushes a strand of loose hair behind her ear.

“Sorry, I wasn’t thinking when I walked out.” She shakes her head and sighs. “I’m used to being alone.”

I clear my throat and give her what I hope is a genuine smile. “Not a problem. We’re supposed to be getting married, after all.”

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