Page 48 of Puck Prince

We make our way to a booth in the back corner.

“How did you land this?” I ask, surprised.

“It’s reserved for players.”

“Oh. Fancy.” It is nice to be a little farther from the chaos, not gonna lie. I’m not loving all the camera flashes and catcalls, but I guess he’s right: if we’re going to do this for the sake of face, I guess we have to be in the limelight.

I just didn’t expect it to be so bright.

Several waitresses eye the table, but a young brunette with bouncy curls and even bouncier boobs beats the others to it. “My name’s Bailey, and I’ll be takin’ care of y’all. What can I get you to drink?”

Her eyes are locked on Owen, but he nods towards me without even glancing at her. “Ladies first.”

Oh, brother.

“Just a ginger ale for me.” I answer, setting the menu aside.

“I’ll take a Jack and Coke.”

She smiles and skips off, and I can feel Owen staring at me.

“What?”

“Ginger ale?” He arches an eyebrow. “Want some saltines to go with that, just for the extra flavor?”

Actually, crackers would be nice. My stomach is a mess because ofhisbaby. Not that I can tell him that.

My cheeks flush, and I pick up the menu again to hide it. “What’s wrong with ginger ale? I like it. And maybe I want a clear head. This is more of a business meeting, after all.”

He doesn’t look convinced, but I’m sure enough he hasn’t guessed at the real reason that I can sit back and take in the ambience.

Or, I try. It’s hard with a constant stream of fans interrupting every couple minutes.

More people drop by the table, haranguing Owen to sign this and that. I’m irked after the third one, but Owen eats the attention up, his smile never fading.

Once they leave, I lean in. “I don’t get it.”

“Don’t get what?”

I motion around the room. “This. I thought the point of our fake relationship was to keep us out of the spotlight.”

“It is.” He leans in as well, taking my hand from across the table. It’s weird how not-weird it feels.

“We need to be in the headlines for a couple months first, and then we will be old news. No one will give two shits about it after the honeymoon phase is over.”

A couple months.

Well, I have a couple months before my secret starts making itself known, so I suppose that works out.

“Fine,” I agree as the waitress returns and sets our drinks down. “But we need ground rules.”

“Shoot.” He takes the skinny straw from his drink and licks it off. I have flashbacks of his tongue on my skin.

I clear my throat. “This is pretend. You can lay it on thick in public, but nothing—and I meannothing—goes on in private. Understand?”

Owen takes a casual sip of his drink before replying. “Alright. But define ‘lay it on thick.’”

I blink. “What do you mean?”

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