Page 140 of How to Lose at Love

I mean, yeah—I totally have the hots for him.

What warm-blooded young woman wouldn’t?

Dallas snorts. “You just said you would take all of this on.” His hands move over his body.

“I did say that.”

“And aren’t you gonna say anythin’ else? You’re just going to clam up and leave me guessin’?”

The Southern accent alone is enough to make me melt; the grin only punctuates the shiver sliding down my spine.

“Can I be honest?”

“Please.”

“I have no idea why I’m telling you this,” I admit, the blush creeping onto my cheeks.

“Darlin’, you haven’t told me nothin’ so far.”

Darlin’.

It’s the first time he’s called medarlin’, and I don’t hate it as far as endearments go. Wouldn’t push him out of bed if he happened to groan it while he was coming—but that’s getting ahead of myself.

“Ryann, are you tryin’ to tell me you want to end our PR stunt?”

No?

Yes.

No.

I panic. On one hand, if I say yes, he might think I don’t want to see him at all. On the other hand, if I say no, he might think I want to keep pretending.

“Ryann…you’re freakin’ out.”

“I’m not.”

“You are. I can see it in your eyes.” He reaches over and takes my hands. “Hey, if that’s what you want then…let’s do it.”

“Do what?”

“Stop pretending.”

Did my shoulders just sag from disappointment? Defeat?

Dallas’s middle and forefinger touch my chin, lifting it. “Hey. Look at me.”

I can’t.

Can’t look him in the eye, afraid of what I might see.

“Let’s try it.”

I raise my eyes. Raise my brows.

“Yeah.” He nods. “I’m game.”

“Are we talking about the same thing?”

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