Page 49 of Puck Prince

He takes my hand again, caressing it with his thumb. “Is this too much?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Hand-holding is a given.”

“Alright. What about this?” Suddenly, I feel his hand under the table, rubbing my knee.

I swallow discreetly. “Sure. Just stay south of the border or you won’t be getting that hand back.”

It makes him chuckle. “Fair. Now, how about this…” Owen leans over the table, and I keep waiting for his chiseled jaw to pump the brakes and stay on his half, but he keeps coming. He takes my face softly in his palms. Then his lips cover my stunned mouth in a kiss.

Again, despite all the reasons why I should pull away, I sink closer.

When he pulls away, I realize my eyes are closed. When I open them, I realize everyone else’s are on us.

“Too far?” he asks, sitting back down.

“I think… that’s probably… the line.” My words come out breathy, broken.

Owen’s mouth tugs into a third of a smirk as he takes a sip of his drink. “Pleasure doing business with you, princess.”

After dinner, Owen drives me home. We stop in front of my door, and he smiles, his hands shoved in his pockets. “I think that went well, don’t you?”

“Yeah, I think… we did what we intended to do,” I agree. I’m still feeling a little heady from all of it. “I am afraid to look at my phone, though.”

“It’ll be a shitshow for sure. But it’s what we want; just remember that.”

I nod. His eyes are warm. Maybe from the whiskey. Maybe because there’s something good in them somewhere. Something sweet. Something?—

Back the fuck up, Callie.

I take a step closer to my door and unlock it. “Well, I’ll see you at work.”

“Sounds good.”

I start to walk in, but turn to him before closing the door. “And, uh, thanks for dinner.”

Owen just gives me a slow nod down.

I close the door and finally get the chance to sag against it, all cinematic like. I really need to get my own place. Because living next to Owen, fake relationship or not, is going to be torture.

17

OWEN

“I thought I told you I don’t need money, Owen.”

I can hear Nicky in the background making all kinds of gurgling noises as Summer whines into the phone. I’m looping around my apartment before work making sure I don’t forget anything.

“And I thought I told you that I can’t have you coming in and out of my place with all the press hiding in the bushes.”

“Having a famous brother is so inconvenient,” she grumbles.

“Love you, too, sis. Now, listen: I am Venmo-ing you some cash. It’s enough for a down payment on a place, assuming your credit is okay. Your credit is okay, right? Or do I need to co-sign?”

“Oh my God, yes! My credit is fine. I already told you that’s not the problem. The problem is I don’t like being alone in a city I don’t know.”

I run an exasperated hand through my hair, wandering my way onto the balcony, which I quickly note is a bad idea. Cameras flash the moment I step outside.

So much for hiding in the bushes. They’re literally swarming the place like angry wasps.

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