Page 53 of The Fake Dating Plan

Another bout of silence passed between us, making me feel anxious again. My gaze wandered around the room looking for Francie. I was happy to listen to her and Hailey talk rather than me having to be part of the conversation. Unfortunately, she was with her parents and she seemed to be trying to convince them of something. There was a lot of hand waving, gesturing and spats of ‘please!’, ‘come on!’ and a ‘reasonably!’ from her father.

“He seems to not be able to take his eyes off you,” Hailey said.

I knew who she was referring to without looking. “Is that so?”

“Please! He’s been looking like he’s ready to devour you whole.”

Finally, I looked up. His gaze was squarely on me, the brandy held loosely in his hand like an afterthought. Was he thinking about our earlier tryst? I hadn’t given him my answer yet and really, not that I wasn’t thinking about it. A night with him wouldn’t be so bad. Granted, it had been a long time since I was with anyone. He literally was the last person I slept with. I wouldn’t mind feeling him inside me again. Maybe then I would stop thinking about him.

“Hailey, can I ask you something?”

“Yes.”

“If a guy wants to have sex with you, and is known as the world’s worst douchebag, but you also want to sleep with him, would you do it? Asking for a friend.”

Her eyes gleamed. “Is the friend afraid of losing her heart?”

I reluctantly nodded.

“I say she should do it. She should give him the best night of his life and make sure he never forgets his time with her. After all, why should we be the ones to be afraid to lose our hearts.”

Hailey was right. If he had the ability to mangle my brain and turn it into mush, surely I had the same abilities when it came to him. I don’t know why I never thought about it from his perspective. What him wanting me meant. It might not mean love, but it meant want. And I was going to make him want me so much he would become obsessed.

After the party was over, and everyone had gone, including Francie. She had gone home with Tiago. It was just the two of us.

“Will you be leaving? Or have you made your decision?” He said so as he stood by the fireplace watching the embers. I was still sitting on the same sofa I sat on after dinner.

“Will I still be here if I hadn’t?”

I heard a sharp intake of breath coming from him. Good to know my gamble was paying off. I did have some control.

“Good.” He placed his glass on top of the fireplace. The same brandy he was nursing all night, I noticed. He must have drunk two sips, if at all. “I knew you would make the right decision.”

“But with one caveat.”

“Which is?”

“I dictate the pace.”

12

“If you want to take the reins, you can do so, Emy. I don’t mind you riding me.” My heart wobbled. There he goes calling me by that nickname again.

“That’s not what I mean.” I was suddenly less sure of myself. He must think I was as experienced as he was and not the practical virgin who pretended to be sophisticated.

He stepped a little closer, making it that much harder for me to concentrate on anything other than him. “What do you mean?” His voice had dropped to a bare whisper.

“I will control how much we do when and to what extent.”

He frowned. Gosh. I was now feeling way more embarrassed than I did before. I cleared my throat. “If we are going to have sex, I will control when and where.”

His eyes turned cloudy, and he stepped that much closer to me until there was little separating us. “I see you didn’t say how long?”

“I’ll leave that up to you.” My eyes were on his chest. A way of avoiding looking at him, but it did little to help because my mind kept wandering to what lay beneath the sweater. I wanted to rip it off and place my hand on his chest.

He took hold of my chin and tilted my face upward. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

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