Page 9 of Fake Fiancé for the Billionaire Rockstar

A burst of noise from the apartment next door momentarily pulls my focus, but the unmistakable sound of Carmen’s lock turning snaps me back. I brace myself.

The door swings open, and all the air rushes from my lungs.

God, she’s gorgeous.

Carmen steps out, and my heart nearly leaped out of my chest. Her auburn hair cascades down her back in soft waves, framing her heart-shaped face. The minimal makeup only enhances her natural beauty. My fingers twitch, longing to run through those silky strands.

For a moment I wonder how she would look with her hair sticking up from sleep, but quickly shake it away. Thoughts of her in bed with me are very dangerous to have right now.

I continue my perusal of her, taking in the way her dark jeans hug her waist beautifully, and when she spins around, I get a magnificent view of her ass. My mouth runs dry and I can’t pull my eyes away from her until the voices next door snap me out of the trance.

“Seems like friendly neighbors,” I mutter, nodding my head toward the shouting.

Carmen smirks. “They’re very… passionate about each other.”

"Sounds more like they’re about to tear each other’s throats out.” The shouting grows louder, and if I can hear it from out here, Carmen must definitely hear it inside. “Not exactly the most peaceful environment.

She shrugs. “You get used to it.”

Just like me, Carmen moved out of the house once all the other guys moved into homes of their own where they could growtheir families. She takes a step away from me, toward where the elevator sits just up ahead, and I clear my throat.

“I, uh, have something for you.” My voice comes out rougher than I intended. It’s only for a few days, I remind myself as I pull out the small box.

Carmen’s eyes widen. “What’s this?”

“Something necessary,” I say, my heart racing. “But only for a few days.” I’m not sure who I’m trying to convince more—her or myself.

The silence that follows is thick, the argument from next door now eerily quiet. Carmen takes the box with a hesitant frown, slowly opening it. My pulse quickens as I wait, and when she finally sees what’s inside, her sharp intake of breath tells me she’s just as overwhelmed as I am.

“What… you didn’t need to get me this?”

I run a hand through my hair. “Can’t exactly claim you’re my fiancée without the jewelry to prove it.”

She continues staring at the ring tucked in the box, then frowns and chews on her lip, with worry lines creasing on her forehead. “This is a lot.”

It’s said barely above a whisper, but now that the shouting has ceased, I can hear her perfectly. I take a tentative step forward,easing the box from her hands, and pull the ring from inside of it. She flinches slightly when I grab her left hand, her eyes locked on the ring as I slide it over her finger, and my body heats at the sight.

A sudden rush of possessiveness tightens my chest. The ring glints under the dim hall light, and for a moment, all I can think about is how right it looks on her. How much I don’t want to take it off in a few days.

This isn’t good. Not at all.

Carmen tugs her hand from my grasp, the loss of contact leaving my skin tingling. She raises her hand to the light, the diamond catching and scattering rainbows. Her frown deepens.

“It’s only for a few days,” I say softly, trying to ignore the way my chest tightens at the words.

A traitorous part of me whispers, What if it wasn’t just for a few days? The thought sends a jolt through me. No. Carmen’s our manager, our lifesaver after the mess with Mack. She’s off-limits, no matter how much I’m wishing she wasn’t.

“Right,” she says, her spine straightening as she glances down the hall. “Guess we should get on with it, huh?”

I hold my arm out to her and she reluctantly slips her hand around it, nails digging into my biceps slightly. Her shoulders are stiff and I chuckle. “Relax, it’s only a simple lunch. Nothing to be nervous about.”

Except there is something to be nervous about. We can try to be as careful as possible once we step out of the complex’s entrance, but there’s no guarantee we’ll make it through this lunch unscathed. The paparazzi are vultures, especially when it comes to a band member who hasn’t been seen with a woman for a long time.

They pay attention to every detail. It won’t be long before they take notice of the way Carmen leans into me or the rock glittering in the afternoon sun on her finger. That’s a big pay day waiting to happen.

Carmen lets out a snort, but says nothing. She doesn’t need to because I’m sure her mind is running through the same situation as I am.

The air between us is thick, a mix of nerves and something I can’t quite put my finger on.

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