Page 215 of The Fake Date Agreement

He gives me a longer look and refocuses on the blonde at the check-in desk. “We’re staying for the night. Late check out. I’ll want the room with the best views and amenities. You want a pool, Tobie?” he asks me.

Shit, this hotel is insane.

“Um, I guess if there’s one available,” I say, playing it cool.

“Not all rooms here come with a pool,” he explains with a smile.

“We have the penthouse suite with the infinity pool available,” the woman says.

Javier pulls a black card from his wallet and slides it across the counter. “We’ll take it.”

Upstairs, I’m relaxing in an infinity pool with insane views overlooking the city, but I’m not interested in those views. I have my arms crossed on the edge, chin resting on them, watching Javier as he stretches out on the bed.

I asked him to join me, but he said if he got in this pool with me, the last thing I’d be doing is resting.

He’s still fully dressed, though he’s kicked off his shoes.

“Javier?”

“Gatinha?”

“Why do you like buying me things? And you ask me how I feel after.”

He studies me for a beat. “Would you prefer if I stopped?”

I take in the lap of luxury we’re in, and I’d be an idiot to say no, please keep your money and take me away from this disgusting place.

“Not really. I’m just confused. I’m not used to someone being so generous. And I figured rich people like to hoard all their money like gremlins.”

His lips kick up in a grin. “Gremlins?”

“Shut up,” I grumble, embarrassed at what now seems like a stupid thing to say.

He gets up and walks over to me, sitting on the edge of the pool, and pulling the legs of his pants up before he slides them into the warm water. “Come here.” He holds out his hand to me.

“I’ll get you wet,” I warn him.

“Then I’m wet.”

I take his hand, and he pulls me toward him until I’m resting my chin on his thigh, and he’s combing his fingers through my hair. He doesn’t seem to care that I’m soaking his pants.

“There is something intoxicating about spoiling you. You never ask for anything when you could. You take the things I give you so sweetly that I want to keep giving you more.”

“Oh.”

He drags his thumb across my bottom lip. “I want your smiles,Gatinha. I want to capture all the pleasure I see when I give something to you and hoard those smiles for myself.” A smile sparkles in his gaze. “But not, I hope, like a gremlin.”

I’m not sure I’m buying this.

“And if I were to ask for a Ferrari?” I tilt my head, curious about his response.

He strokes the hair from my face. “What color?”

I blink at him, struggling to believe he means it.

“You wouldn’t buy me a Ferrari just like that?” He doesn’t respond. “Would you?”

He lifts me then, and I straddle him.

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