Page 50 of Drop Shot
“Not quite right,” I mutter to myself, returning them to the shelf and pulling down another pair.
“What was wrong with the other pair?”
I jump at the sound of Elias’s voice, turning around to find him leaning in the doorway. He’s dressed in a short-sleeve linen shirt and khaki-colored pants. A thin gold chain glints at his throat and a small gold hoop adorns one ear.
My breath catches.
I keep trying to forget just how fucking hot my fake-boyfriend is and then he has to show up looking like that.
“Whim?” he prompts, a dark brow arching.
What did he say?
I shake the cobwebs free from my thoughts. “The shade of blue clashed with the dress. I think white will look better.”
“Both look great to me,” he says, pushing away from the doorframe. “Not that my opinion matters.”
We don’t run into his parents or Ebba on our way out so I assume they’ve already left for the day. Jackson sent a car to get us, despite the fact that Elias has three separate vehicles that stay in Monte Carlo.
Elias opens the back door, gesturing for me to slide in first. I tuck my dress under me and do just that.
When the door shuts behind Elias, the driver wastes no time pulling out of the driveway and heading away. It doesn’t take us long to reach the hotel where Julia is staying since she’s attending the tournament. I’ve chatted with her before—Elias has filmed a podcast with her in the past—so at least she’s not a total stranger.
I exhale a shaky breath and Elias’s hand settles on my knee. I glance over at him with a questioning look.
“Nervous?”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to lie, but I realize he’ll see right through me.
“A little.”
“Don’t be. Julia is nice.” He gives my knee a reassuring squeeze.
A small laugh escapes me. “I know. Who do you think set up your past interviews with her?”
He grins, eyes crinkling at the corners. “You, of course.”
“I just don’t want to say something to embarrass you or make it obvious this isn’t real.”
“You’ll do fine,” he says with far more assurance than I feel. “Just make sure to touch me. Kiss me if you want. Act obsessed with me.” His eyes glimmer with teasing.
“Ha, ha,” I fake laugh. Sobering, I say, “There should be some touching though, right? I mean, new couples are all over each other.”
“Absolutely.” He nods like an overly eager puppy. “Touch me anywhere you want.”
“Elias,” I laugh.
His eyes grab mine, holding me hostage in his gaze.
He’s … oh my God he’s serious.
I swallow past the lump that decides to lodge in my throat. Hewantsme to touch him. What the hell is happening?
Before I can thoroughly spiral, the car pulls up to the hotel’s entrance.
“Showtime.” Elias’s lips graze my ear with the word, sending an unwanted shiver down my spine. I follow him out of the car, staring in momentary shock when he grabs my hand. But with fellow tennis players and staff crawling all over the hotel, I know it’s what we have to do.
We take the elevator up to Julia’s floor and stop outside her door.
