Page 124 of Late Nights & Love Lines
30
SO MANY LIES
ROWAN
“I’m nervous,” I admit as we walk the red freaking carpet into the event. “I had no idea there would be a red carpet. Don’t women practice how to smile and how to walk and all that stuff?” I hiss the last bit from the corner of my mouth.
He tucks me into his chest, then leans down so his mouth is at my ear. The light bulb flashes are intense. This will be the pose that circulates in the press. My hand resting on his chest. His hand covering my own while I press my face into his shoulder.
It’ll be a great shot. I only wish it weren’t of me.
“Just smile, Peach. We’re almost to the door,” Seb whispers into my hair.
I force air into my lungs, then turn in his arm as more cameras flash.
“Right this way, Mr. Walker.” An attendant finally ushers us to the door.
“Oh my God.” I’m panting as though I just sprinted a mile.
“Sorry,” he says, taking my hand in his. “I forgot how the family running this event does things. They go all out to raise the most amount of money for their charities—even if that means exploiting its guests for a few minutes.”
“It—it was something.”
“Are you okay?” he asks. Concern crinkling the corners of his eyes.
“I’m a nervous pee-er,” I blurt, and he takes a step back but doesn’t release my hand.
Good lord. What’s wrong with me?
“Okay. I’m not sure what that means.”
If I weren’t running on adrenaline right now, I’d probably laugh at the confusion on his face. “It means my brain tells me I have to pee a hundred times when I’m nervous even though I don’t.”
“So you need to use the restroom before we find our seats?”
My smile takes over my entire face, and my shoulders relax in relief. “Yes, thank you.”
Sebastian’s hand falls to my bare back and he aligns our steps as he guides me to the restroom.
“I’m sorry you’re nervous, Peach. I promise our second date will be more relaxing.”
“Awfully presumptuous, aren’t you?”
He smirks down at me. “Sweetheart, I can still taste you on my lips. There will be a second date.”
“Gah.” I glance around to see if anyone is paying attention to his dirty-talking mouth and make eye contact with a beautiful woman who winks at me. “What’s wrong with you?” I ask Seb under my breath, but a giggle slips free too.
“Nothing’s wrong with me, Peach. I’m not on dad duty, so I’m taking full advantage of our adult-only time.”
We stop outside the red double doors of the women’s restroom.
“Here, here.” The same woman who winked at me giggles to our left.
She’s a gorgeous redhead who stands in an emerald green dress on the arm of an equally gorgeous—but giant and a little scary—CIA-ish looking man.
“Come with me, we can trade dirty-talking stories,” she says conspiratorially.
My face must pale because her date groans. “Sloane, not everyone wants to talk about sex all the time.”
