Page 65 of How Jenna Became My Dilemma

I, for sure, did not.

But I’m not supposed to be enjoying my time with him. I’m supposed to be making people think we’re the most in-love Hollywood couple there ever was—Ryan Reynolds and Blake Lively status. And if we don’t deliver that kind of performance, Tawny and Dallas will make us repeat this whole thing again, which I don’t know if I can handle.

Actually, it’s the sweet, vulnerable side of Cody that I can’t handle. Things were much easier when I thought he was just some sleazy playboy going from one woman to the next. But maybe I misjudged him. Because what I see in front of me is a man who just wants to be liked for all the right reasons and none of the wrong—basically the story of my life. He’s attentive, and funny, and isn’t trying to impress me with talk about himself. Our conversations have mostly been about me and my interests, which is a nice change for once.

“Here’s your check,” the waiter says, dropping a paper face down on the table.

“I got it.” Cody picks it up before I have the chance.

“At least let me pay my half.”

“Call me old-fashioned, but I believe a man should take care of his woman.”

His woman?

I’m skating past that as if I were Michelle Kwan herself, because I’m not really his woman. I’m just some girl he has to pretend to be interested in to boost his career.

“I see how you work,” I joke as the waiter walks away with his card. “You just want credit with the paparazzi for paying.”

Cody turns his head to the side as if he’d forgotten about the watching crowd of people twenty feet away. “I don’t care about them.”

“You should.” My eyes follow his. “Do you think we’ve done enough to convince them we’re in love?”

“Nope.”

“Really?” I don’t know why I’m acting so surprised. The only time we touched was when Cody fixed my hair. The simple action made my heart feel like it was pumping lava instead of blood—probably why I haven’t attempted any physical contact of my own.

I don’t trust my body not to react.

“We’re not even close to convincing them,” he says.

“Not even close?”

“Nope.”

“So what do we need to do, then?”

“That depends?”

“On what?”

“On how committed you are to selling this story.” His expression changes from normal to heated instantly. “Because if you’re committed, there are a lot of ways I can convince them.”

I blame the pounding in my heart for my next words. “Show me.”

Cody’s blue eyes lock on me. “First of all, we’re sitting way too far apart.” He casually scoots his chair over, resting his arm on the back of mine, gently rubbing his thumb along my shoulder blade as he talks.

“Distance is important,” I mumble.

We’re right next to each other now, awkwardly gazing into each other’s eyes, but I can’t look away because I don’t want to miss a single one of his slow, sexy movements. It’s the way he rolled up next to me, right in my space, with all the confidence in the world.

And that stare.

Cody Banner knows how to kill a woman with the intensity of his stare. I’ve literally died all the deaths from his smoldering gaze.

“Then what?” Somewhere in the back of my mind, an angel shakes her head at my complete lack of self-control. She might also be yelling, ‘Why are you encouraging this stupid game?!’

For the series.

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