Page 8 of Fake Fiancé for the Billionaire Rockstar

My heart stutters. The image of being pressed against Donny, his arm around me, his warmth seeping into my bones... I swallow hard. “Is all that really necessary? It’s only for a couple of days.”

Please say no.

“You don’t know my mother. She’ll sense the bullshit from a mile away. Our only hope is to practice actually being together.”

I chew on the inside of my cheek and Donny takes a tentative step closer to me, again, with an amusing grin. “Oh, come on, Carm. I don’t bite unless you ask.”

My body reacts to that, and I groan. “Alright, alright.”

I’m already regretting this.

Nothing good can come from us getting closer, orpracticing.

“Anything else I should be looking forward to?” I grumble.

“Gee, love the excitement.”

“This is weird, you said so yourself. Give me a night to get over the shock of it all.”

He nods, then places a hand on my shoulder and gives it a gentle squeeze. “Thank you for this. I know it’s not the best way you want to spend your time.”

There’s a flash of hurt in his gaze, which makes me feel like shit for being harder on him than the rest of the guys, but it only lasts a couple of seconds before the usual calmness is back. Meanwhile, I can’t stop tapping my fingers against his island because nerves are starting to take over.

I swallow thickly and lean away from his touch, which is burning a hole straight through my shirt and onto my skin. “No problem, whatever helps the band. Can’t have you losing focus on us, you know?”

“So, lunch tomorrow before rehearsal. After rehearsal, I’m going to take you to dinner and the day after that I’ll leave as a surprise.”

“No way. We agree on everything. No surprises.”

He arches a brow. “How am I supposed to make sure I’m paying attention to you if I don’t try to plan something on my own?”

“I don’t like it,” I grumble.

Surprises have always been the worst. No one’s ever convinced me otherwise, not since my seventh-grade birthday disaster. I can still see it—coming home from my dance recital, dropped off by my friend’s mom, and walking through the door to find my parents frowning.

The table was set up just like I’d imagined—balloons, streamers, a cake with my name on it—but the one thing missing? Friends. It was supposed to be a surprise sleepover, except everyone I’d invited was at a different party—the one thrown by the girl everyone liked more.

I was chopped liver, and ever since that day, I’ve been against surprises. You can’t be disappointed if you already know what’s coming.

“Woah,” Donny says, pulling me from the terrible memory. “Okay, I won’t surprise you.”

Am I really going to let a harsh past keep me from living my life now?

“No,” I choke out, then clear my throat. “It’s all good. You can do it.”

He frowns, searching my face for that same far away look I’m sure I had moments ago, but I’ve already masked it.

As I stand in Donny's kitchen, surrounded by luxury and the promise of a life I've never known, I'm struck by how out of place I feel. Not just in this penthouse, but in this situation.

I'm used to being in control, to knowing exactly where the lines are drawn. But with Donny, those lines are blurring faster than I can redraw them. And the scariest part? A part of me doesn't want to stop it.

There’s no reason for him to know how life was for me as a child. We’re not that close… and I plan to keep it that way.

4

Donny

My pulse kicks upas I reach Carmen’s door. I swipe a hand over my temple, brushing off the bead of sweat that has no business being there, then knock twice—quick, controlled. It’s just a fake engagement, no big deal. So why the hell does it feel like I’m standing on the edge of something I can’t walk away from?

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