Page 52 of Fake Fiancé for the Billionaire Rockstar

I’m used to him calling me Sunshine, but that word rolls off his tongue nicely and sends shivers down my spine. “I’m running late,” I grumble before heading back into the apartment and leaving my door open for him to come through.

The last thing I’m going to admit to Donny is that I had to rush out of my own home with him lying peacefully in my bed because I couldn’t bring myself to ponder why he was still there. I could’ve easily sent him home last night, after we exhausted ourselves, but I chose instead to curl into his chest and fall into a peaceful sleep myself.

It’s dangerous, how easy it is to be with him like that.

I have to think about the things he said to me, how the words he spewed before pleasuring me sent butterflies racing through my stomach. I can’t deal with all these feelings while he’s still here. That is why I called the girls, begging them to meet me at an all-night diner around the block so they could give me some advice.

They are all probably sitting at a table right now, impatiently waiting for my arrival, and all I can focus on is the fact that I can’t find my damn heels.

What do I even need heels to go to the diner?

“What’s the rush?” Donny asks, leaning against the doorway, watching me closely.

“They’re waiting for me and I’m late,” I say before looking at my phone and groaning, “by ten minutes.”

“Who’s waiting for you?” His tone is calm, but I can feel his curiosity.

“The girls,” I mutter as I hurry past him and down the hall, his heavy footsteps following my trail. “I asked them to meet me for a late snack.”

I feel Donny’s presence behind me as I rummage through my closet for the right shoes, his steady silence both grounding and unnerving. Flats it is. I snag a pair from the corner and slip them on, hoping to make a quick exit.

I’m about to bolt for the door when I feel his hand on my wrist, pulling me back. My heart stumbles in my chest as I meet his gaze, the intensity in his eyes locking me in place. He leans down and presses his lips to mine, soft at first, but it quickly deepens, becoming something I’m not ready for but can’t resist. His arm wraps around my waist, pulling me flush against him, and my body betrays me, melting into him. I moan softly before I place a hand on his chest to push away.

I hate how much my body reacts to something so simple.Get it together.

We stare at each other for a moment, but my phone pinging has me shaking from the haze I find myself in when it comes to him. This can’t keep happening. I need the girls’ advice. They always know what to say, how to help me figure things out. “I, uh, I’ve got to go,” I say once I see Mia’s text on the screen asking where I’m at.

Donny steps back slightly, his brow furrowing, but he doesn’t move to leave. Instead, he just watches me like he’s thinking through something.

He finally breaks the silence. “You mind if I stay here for a bit? Wait up for you?” His voice is soft, careful.

My heart races. Why does he have to say things like that? Like he’s here for more than what’s just on the surface. His eyes search mine, and for a moment, I almost tell him yes—that I want him to stay, that I want him here when I get back. But the rational part of me, the part that’s been trying to keep this strictly business, tells me I need space, tells me I’m about to walk into a mess I can’t handle.

I bite my lip. “You sure? You don’t have to wait for me.”

“I know,” he says, stepping closer again, his fingers brushing the side of my arm lightly. “But I want to. We need to talk, Sunshine.

My pulse quickens at his words. This is what I’ve been avoiding—an actual conversation. Because if we talk, if we really lay everything on the table, then I’ll have to face my feelings.

I take a breath, my mind swirling. “Okay. I won’t be long. We can talk when I get back.”

He gives me a half-smile, one that’s almost hopeful.

“Go,” he says, his voice quiet but steady. “I’ll be here when you get back.” The fact that I’m not shoving him out the door right now says everything. I should be kicking him out, locking the door, and putting distance between us. Instead, all I can think about is how much I want to stay, to fall back into his arms.

What’s wrong with me?

As I step into the elevator, I send a quick text to Mia and let her know that I’m on my way, then apologize profusely for being late when I’m the one who asked them to meet me.

***

The warmth of the diner hits me as soon as I step inside. Mia is the first one to lift from her place at a table tucked in a corner, right next to a large window that looks out onto the busy street. She smiles while waving me over to the other two women.

Julia looks like she could fall asleep with the way she’s resting her head on her hand and the dark circles evident under her eyes. When I come to a stop at the side of the table, I frown at the woman in question and say, “You could’ve stayed home and gotten some rest.”

She pushes up into a sitting position, looking more alive than a few seconds ago, and shakes her head. “No way. When a girl texts an SOS, nothing stops us from getting into action.”

Mia waves me toward the bench seat in front of Julia and Mallory, smiling sheepishly as I slide into it. As a former professional bodyguard who now runs her own security agency, she doesn’t have to explain her habits to me or anyone. I’ve known her long enough to understand why we’re sitting away from each point of exit, with Mia perched at the edge of the bench seat, her eyes constantly scanning the area. It’s not paranoia—it’s years of training and experience keeping us safe, even during a casual outing.

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