Page 45 of The Love Clause

"That I'm falling for him." Just saying it out loud again makes my chest tight. "That it terrifies me, but it's happening anyway."

"Wow." Mandy sounds genuinely surprised. "What did he say?"

"Basically that he has feelings too but can't articulate them." I try to keep the disappointment from my voice. "Which, for Elliot, is actually pretty huge."

"So what happens now? With the money and everything?"

"I don't know." I pull up my student loan account, grimacing at the outstanding balance. "The money was the deal. Pretend to be his fiancée for the weekend, get fifty thousand dollars. That part is done. But what happened between us…that was never part of the plan."

"Are you going to use the money to pay everything off right away?"

"That was always the point," I remind her. "Get out of debt, stop the eviction, have a chance to actually focus on my art without constant financial panic. The fact that I accidentally fell for the guy who's making it possible is just…a really weird complication."

"But a good complication, right? I mean, he's rich, gorgeous according to your drunk texts, and apparently good enough in bed that you're still at his place."

I laugh despite myself. "There's more to him than that. He's…I don't know. Behind all that stiff lawyer facade, there's someone who feels things deeply. Someone who cares about doing things right, who remembers how I take my coffee, who ordered room service for my dog."

The sound of a key in the lock makes me freeze mid-sentence. "Mandy, I have to go. Elliot's back. I'll call you later about the rent money."

"Use protection!" she chirps before I can hang up. "Both for your heart and your?—"

I end the call just as the door opens, my cheeks burning at Mandy's parting comment. Elliot steps into the apartment, immaculate in a charcoal suit I haven't seen before, his expression unreadable.

"Hey," I say, setting my laptop aside. "You're back early. How was the meeting?"

He doesn't answer immediately, his gaze moving from me to the laptop to the phone in my hand. Something cold and distant has settled over his features, a mask I haven't seen since our initial meetings.

"The meeting was fine," he says finally, his voice carefully neutral. "The transfer went through?"

"Yes, just now." I gesture toward the laptop, confused by his tone. "Thank you. It's…it's going to make a huge difference."

He nods once, precise and professional. "Good. That was the agreement."

The formality in his voice makes something twist uneasily in my gut. This isn't the same man who held me last night, who whispered possessive words against my skin, who admitted his feelings were real even if he couldn't name them.

"Is everything okay?" I ask, standing. "You seem…different."

"Everything's fine." He loosens his tie slightly, a gesture that should be casual but somehow looks calculated. "I have a considerable amount of work to catch up on after being away for the weekend. And I'm sure you have things to attend to as well."

The dismissal is so polite, so professionally packaged, that it takes me a moment to recognize it for what it is. "Are you asking me to leave?"

"I'm merely acknowledging that our arrangement has concluded, and we both have lives to return to." He moves past me toward his home office, maintaining a careful distance that feels deliberate. "You're welcome to stay as long as you need to gather your things."

"Gather my things?" I repeat, following him. "Elliot, what's going on? Last night?—"

"Last night was a culmination of an intense weekend situation," he interrupts, not meeting my eyes. "Emotions were heightened. It's natural for boundaries to blur under such circumstances."

I feel like I've been slapped. "Boundaries to blur? Is that what you call what happened between us?"

"What would you call it?" he counters, finally looking at me with eyes so carefully empty it makes my chest ache. "A relationship? We've known each other less than a week, Josie."

"I'd call it real," I say, my voice smaller than I'd like. "I'd call it something worth exploring, at least."

He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose in a gesture I've come to recognize as his response to frustration. "I have a demanding career. A life that doesn't easily accommodate…complications."

"And I'm a complication." The words taste bitter. "Just like that, overnight, I've gone from someone you couldn't keep your hands off to an inconvenient complication."

"You're deliberately misrepresenting what I'm saying."

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