Page 47 of Fake Fiancé for the Billionaire Rockstar

I've always known I work too much. It's been my shield, my way of proving to Walker and everyone else that a woman can handle a rock band. But now, as I celebrate another milestone, I can't shake the fear that my devotion to work might cost me the one person I can't bear to lose.

Donny's seen it all - the late nights, the stress, the victories. Maybe that's why his words cut so deep. He knows exactly what this job means to me.

As I make my way down the long hallway to my apartment, the dim lighting casts soft shadows that match my subdued mood.

My thoughts wander, replaying the evening's events. I wish I had found the courage to speak my mind instead of avoiding confrontation. But isn't that what I always do? Run from anything that threatens the carefully constructed walls around my heart?

Lost in thought, I barely notice my surroundings until a shadow moves near my door. My heart leaps into my throat, hand instinctively reaching for the mace in my purse. But as my eyes adjust, relief and irritation flood through me in equal measure.

"Donny, are you insane?"

He pushes away from the wall with a shrug, an amused grin playing on his lips. "Some people might say so."

"This isn't funny," I grind out, shaking my head as I nudge him away from my door. "You scared the shit out of me."

His smile drops, and he sighs. “You’re right. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“What are you doing here?” I ask, then push my door open.

He’s hot on my tail, which only irritates me further, and I whirl around. “I don’t remember saying you could come inside.”

Without hesitation, his steps falter and he comes to a stop a couple of feet away from the door. We stare at each other for a moment and he runs a hand through his curls, attention turning to the door with a frown. “Just give me five minutes, please?”

“Why should I?” I ask, crossing my arms in front of me with an eyebrow arched. “According to you, I’m always working, so you may as well make that two minutes.”

Donny scrubs a hand down his face and blows out a rough breath. “I shouldn’t have said anything, I know that.”

"Look, Donny," I begin, turning to face him. "I know what you're going to say, and you're right. I work all the time. I'm not good at... this." I gesture vaguely between us. "Maybe we should just admit this whole charade has gone on too long."

He blinks in surprise. “What… what do you mean?”

There’s a vulnerability in his gaze that makes me want to retract every thought in my head right now, but this is for the best. It never should’ve gone this far.

“It means that we should think about coming clean, admitting this was a charade for publicity or something, because you deserve someone who gives you more.”

“No,” he growls, his eyes darkening as he closes the distance between us. The intensity of his gaze pins me in place. “I didn’t agree with that, and I’m not about to let you walk away from this. From us.”

“It’s not only your decision,” I growl out, my spine stiffening when he stops a foot in front of me. “Even your mother thinks I’m a I'm terrible for you. And she's not wrong. I don't know how to be what you need."

Donny leans forward, his hand brushing against my hand. “You think I give a shit about what my mom thinks of you?”

The mention of his mother sends a pang of guilt through me. It's not just about Donny – it's about disappointing his family.

I suck in a sharp breath and turn my face away, forcing his hand to drop from my skin. “You should, because she’s right. I don’t give you what you deserve.”

“That’s bullshit,” he grinds out. “Look at me, Carmen.”

Donny's hand comes up to cup my cheek, and I can't help but lean into his touch. "You don't get it, do you? You're exactly what I need. Just as you are."

My heart clenches.

I reluctantly look at him, staring into his eyes. The heat from his body is enough to have my head spinning, but I manage to keep myself composed in front of him.

His forehead presses against mine, his breath warm on my lips. “You’re everything I never knew I needed. And I’ll be damned if I let anyone, even you, convince me to walk away from this,” he whispers.

“It’s not real,” I mutter, halfheartedly pushing against his chest. But he doesn’t budge, and I’m not sure I want him to. “Everything is fake, Donny.”

His eyes search mine, seeing more than I want him to. "Is it, Carmen? Is that what you really believe?"

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