Page 58 of Mr. Misunderstood

“Because you agreed to marry him?” She makes a dismissive sound. “Or because he’s your friend?”

“Because he loves me,” I say. That hasn’t changed. No matter how many rules he breaks.

Of course, he did lie to my mother. It’s possible he threw all the rules out the window. Including the one about when we end our fake engagement.

No, he wouldn’t. Not after one night of sex. He wouldn’t assume that we were actually going to …

He wouldn’t make that leap. Gavin has sex all the time …

My hand tightens on Luna’s leash as a spark of jealousy rears its ugly head. And okay, it might be more like a wild fire threatening to wreak havoc on my emotions. Jealousy is probably a side effect of waking up with my hand on his too-perfect abs. And I have every right to feel a little possessive after what we did last night. I’m not ready to wrap him up with a bow and present him to the next Alexandra.

“Mom, I need to go,” I say quickly. “I’ll keep you updated on the wedding plans.” And have Gavin call you when we en

d this mess to explain everything.

“I love you, sweetheart.”

“Love you too.” I end the call and lower the phone. Luna stares up at me, and then she turns her head, cone and all, to the trail as if eager to continue her solo walk.

“This is exactly why I didn’t want to be his fake fiancée in the first place,” I mutter. Luna turns her attention back to me. “I knew I wouldn’t be able to hold on …”

To my heart. To my sense of self. To my independence. To my dignity.

I don’t say the words out loud. I haven’t lost anything yet. It was one night. It’s amazing we’ve been friends for this long without having sex. He’s a gorgeous man. It was bound to happen at some point. And it doesn’t change anything. At least not for me.

I wonder if Gavin feels the same?

My phone vibrates against the palm of my hand. I glance down at the text message from … drumroll please … Gavin. It’s as if he felt me thinking about him and decided to send me a message demanding I call him.

“Gavin, just the man I need to talk to,” I say when he answers.

“Are you at the apartment?”

“No, I’m out—”

“Alexandra is on Good Morning with Charlene. She’s doing the morning show circuit.”

“She has more pictures?” I drag Luna back to the bench and sit down again. I can hear the panic in Gavin’s voice. Everything else fades into the background. We can discuss what last night meant to our friendship later. Tomorrow I can demand that he call my mother back and tell her the truth. Right now, he needs me.

“No pictures.”

“That’s good,” I point out.

“She’s attacking you.” It’s not fear that gives his deep voice a sharp edge, but fury. “Alexandra’s talking about your failed marriage, and how I helped you out of it. She’s telling fucking Charlene that I paid your legal bills.”

“You did,” I say simply.

“She claims that our long friendship proves we’re friends and our engagement is a sham.”

“What was the host’s reaction?” I demand.

“Charlene laughed and suggested that was a little far-fetched. But how the hell did Alexandra find out?”

“She’s guessing. Or smarter than we gave her credit for,” I say. “The only thing we can do now is prove her wrong.”

“How?” he demands.

I take a deep breath. I shouldn’t suggest this. Not now. Not after last night. But we have to do something.

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