Page 29 of Rockstar's Fake Engagement

Her eyes darken. Just slightly. But I catch it.

And yeah, I might be playing a role, but the way she reacts to my touch? Her reactions are real.

“There they are!” Cass calls out, raising his glass. “Hollywood’s hottest couple!”

Lacey laughs, the sound genuine and warm. “Pretty sure that’s you and Kendrick.”

“Thank you,” Kendrick says, coming over to give her a warm hug. “Cass should have said the hottest ‘new’ couple. I thought I had him trained better than that.”

As we stand with the other band members, I introduce Lacey to some industry reps. The place is crowded with people—some faces I recognize and others I don’t. Lacey charms everyone she meets, her hand never leaving mine, while I try not to focus on how natural this feels.

“Would you care to dance?” I ask politely during a lull in conversations. And she smiles, tugging me toward where other couples are swaying to the live band.

“I’m a drummer,” I remind her. “We’re not known for our grace.”

Her smile is teasing. “I’m sure you have an excellent sense of rhythm.”

She leads me to the dance floor, and when she wraps her arms around my neck, pressing close, I forget my excuses. My hands automatically find her waist, and we move together like we’ve done this a thousand times.

“See?” she murmurs. “You’re not so bad.”

The lights are low, the music soft, and she feels perfect in my arms. I could blame the alcohol for how unsteady I feel, but I know it’s all her.

The band shifts into something slower, more intimate. Something with a beat that pulses like a heartbeat, and Lacey moves with it, her body swaying against mine. Her fingers toy with the hair at the nape of my neck, and I have to stifle a groan.

The lights are low, casting everything in soft shadows. She smells like vanilla and something floral, and when she presses closer to my chest, it takes everything in me not to react to her nearness.

My hands tighten on her waist as we move together, and I can feel her pulse racing beneath my fingers. She fits against me like she was made to be there, and I’m finding it harder to remember we haven’t known each other for very long.

“Everyone’s watching us,” she says softly, tilting her head back.

“Let them watch.”

Her breath catches as I pull her even closer, knowing I’m playing with fire but unable to stop. The music wraps around us like silk, and for these few minutes, nothing exists beyond this dance floor, beyond the feel of her in my arms.

When she looks up at me, her eyes are dark, and her lips slightly parted. I remember how those lips felt against mine, how she tasted, how she—

“Mind if I cut in?” Vince’s abrupt voice breaks through the moment. “Since you’re practically family now, Monroe.”

Lacey blinks like she’s coming out of a trance. Then she smiles, all actress grace. “Sure. But watch your hands, Savage. My fiancé‘s right here.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Vince says, but he winks at me as I reluctantly let her go. Damn him.

I step back, jaw tight, watching as he spins her once before settling a questionable distance away from her. Close enough to annoy me but not so close that I can justifiably rip him away.

I fold my arms as I watch them dance, the way she laughs at whatever Vince is saying, and try to ignore the ache in my chest. Try to forget how right she felt in my arms.

Cass steps up beside me, sipping his drink. “You look like you’re trying real hard not to deck him.”

I exhale through my nose. “He’s pushing it.”

Cass chuckles. “Vince pushes everyone.”

“Yeah, well. That doesn’t make it any less aggravating.”

One song later, Vince twirls Lacey dramatically before finally, mercifully, bringing her back.

I don’t miss the way her chest rises and falls, just a little faster than before, or how her cheeks are flushed from the dance.

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