Page 15 of Never Fake Date the Financier
“The lady doth protest too much, methinks,” she says, glancing at my laptop.
And so it goes. The more I deny it, the more Olivia’s convinced. Although we’ve only known each other for a short time, I’ve learned that once Olivia gets onto a track, it’s best to let her stay the course until it plays out. She’s hard-headed and opinionated but also fiercely loyal, kind, and empathetic. What more could I ask for from a roommate who’s quickly becoming my best friend?
“You know, when you told me you accepted his wild offer, I thought you were crazy.” Olivia peeks at me from over my laptop.
“And now?” I ask, placing everything neatly back into my makeup bag before shoving it into my suitcase.
“I think you’re insane.”
When I look up at her, she flashes a cheesy grin at me, and I laugh.
“For not accepting on the spot. He. Is. Beeeeeautiful. I’d have done it for free. A chance to drag my tongue across those abs?”
“Oooooookay. That’s quite enough.”
I knew I should’ve closed my laptop, but I lost track of time while I was… researching. And now she’s staring at the photos of Adrian from his profile in Forbes. GQ? Esquire? I don’t remember, but they’re the only high-resolution images I could find of him. The only images, really. Apart from that profile, he’s a ghost online. Not that I was stalking him or anything. It was for research purposes only. I’m not going into a business deal with someone blindly. And that’s all this is.
A deal.
A contract.
One party fulfilling their obligations to the other and nothing more.
I slide in next to Olivia and glance at the screen. There he is: Adrian Thorne in his natural habitat. He’s seated on a dark leather couch—the same one I passed in his office yesterday—wearing a charcoal suit a shade lighter than his eyes. His legs are spread wide, elbows resting on his thighs as he knits his fingers together in front of him. Dark hair tousled, eyes ablaze as he stares directly at the camera.
“Just look at that smolder,” she says, fanning herself.
I have. Many, many times. Every time I close my eyes, I can see it etched in my mind. Dark eyes under darker brows, narrowed as they dissect me inch by inch. The sharp edge of his cheekbones. The sharper edge of his jawline. I know the smolder. I know the face. But what Olivia doesn’t understand is how it feels when it’s directed at you. In person.
Sizzling. Lung crushing. Panty—nope!
“What about it?” I ask in a tone that affects nonchalance but is an octave too high.
She gapes at me. “What about it? You know damn well.”
I try to ignore the heat rising in my cheeks and neck, but Olivia sees right through my facade. It’s hard not to when my face is quickly becoming the color of a ripe tomato.
“You know, for an actress, you could do better,” she says, a knowing look on her face. “Maybe that’s why you haven’t?—”
I swat her with a pillow, laughing.
“All I’m saying is that the man is beautiful and you know it. But…” Her gaze drifts lazily as she scrolls through more and more pictures of Adrian. “If you’re not interested, I’ll take your place.”
Just wait until she scrolls far enough to see him working out in his home gym…
Research. Pure research and nothing more.
“I’m very interested. Just not in the same way you are.”
The look she gives me cuts through my bullshit again.
I groan into my hands, my cheeks sizzling to the touch. “Fine. I’m kinda interested in the same way you are.”
“What was that?”
“You know what I said.”
She shakes her head and raises her brows. “I think you need to say it with your chest. Admit it. You kinda like the guy, or else there’s no way you’d be doing this.”
