Page 43 of One Small Secret

And there it is. An invitation to uncharted territory. Ben wanted the two of us together like Mom wanted me to work for Palmers. But could we do it? For real? Was Ruben so tired of likes and followers that he was willing to actually date me? I want to ask him if we would be having this conversation if Andrew hadn’t come up with the idea, or if Axley and I had been bad for his reputation.

What if the algorithms do change, and I become bad for him? He would have to move on, and I would have to let him. I’m not sure if I can do it. I open my mouth to say as much but he stops me by taking my hand.

“Before you answer, I want you to know that I have a pretty good relationship with most presses and influencers now. I've got a lot of control over what gets shared. Media can be tough. If you hate it, we don’t have to keep going. We can stop whenever you want.”

He says it like it's a kindness and he's worried about me, but all I hear is that even if I say I want it to be real, it won’t be real. He might try, but our relationship will always be dependent on how things play out in the media. That isn’t a real relationship, and I think Ruben has been pretending so long that he doesn’t even realize it.

Christmas Eve with him was magical. I want it back. But the two of us will never get our own little world like that again, and if I tell myself we can, it will break my heart when it all falls apart.

But I can’t just leave either. Just like he couldn’t give up the opportunity to have a relationship with Alyssa Fourtuna, I can’t walk away from him. Not completely. If he's willing to be in my life for a few months, I’m going to take it. I guess I’ve been one of those women waiting for a turn with him all along.

I swallow hard. “Okay. Fake dating it is.” I nod like this is a normal business conversation being held over a conference table, but I don’t look him in the eye. And I can’t see his reaction to what I’ve said. “But I have one condition. Ben has to know.”

Ruben pauses before answering. “That we're dating? Andrew pretty much told him we were.”

I finally look up at him. His face is schooled into an expression that matches my business-like tone. “That we aren’t really dating. Otherwise it's going to break his heart when you go back to your supermodels.”

His business face falters slightly. “Ah, yes. You have a point. He needs to know.”

“So we have a deal?” I hold out my hand.

He eyes my hand and his jaw clenches. “We have a deal.” My hand just sits there in the air, waiting. Ruben swallows hard, then leans forward. “But I don’t shake hands with the women I fake date. If you’ve followed me at all on social media, you should know that.” He grabs both of my calves and pulls them onto his legs. We’re facing each other and my butt is still on the sofa, but all of my legs are now resting on his. He cups my chin in his hand and everything slows down. He slows down. With every inch he brings his face closer to mine, there's a clear question in his eyes. I know what he's doing. Giving me plenty of time to stop him. But he's the Alyssa Fourtuna of men, and I need to kiss him.

So instead of pulling away, I lean in. “Oh, I know. You always kiss the women you date for show. Why else would I agree to it?”

Ruben’s lips turn into a wicked grin, and then they're covering mine, warm and soft. I’ve brought this puppy home and in one split second, it’s already worth it. The hand holding my chin drops and slides around my waist to pull me closer until I'm almost in his lap. My chest burns with something all too real and needy—something that is going to break when this is all over. Instead of tapping it down, I relish it. I’m kissing Ruben and the rest of the women on the planet can rot in the prison of disappointment. Both of his arms are around me, and my body remembers his from the sofa last night. Ruben’s chest rises and falls against mine, and the next time he takes a breath, my name is an unsteady whisper against my lips.

Something catches in my throat. As much as I want to tell myself it isn’t true, he’s not just Alyssa Fourtuna to me. I want so much more of him than his body.

And him whispering my name is too sweet. It’s personal, not business.

There is no part of me that wants to pull away, though, so instead, I answer his sweetness by biting his lower lip. Softly. I don’t want to hurt him, but it has the desired effect.

Instead of a soft whisper, Ruben makes a noise low in his throat. It wakes up a part of me that had been asleep since before the polar ice caps started melting. My arms are desperate with movement. I’m no longer satisfied with pictures of Ruben on my computer screen. I need to touch him, kiss him, hold him. I run my hands down his back, then back up to his shoulders. When I slide one hand down his arm, he flexes it ever so slightly.

I laugh against his lips and then pull away for a moment. “Making sure I notice all that time you spent at the gym, huh?”

His eyes look like they're on fire. “No one else notices.”

“Liar.”

“You made me think you had a baby, Cadence. I’m pretty sure I’ve got a lot of lies I can tell before I top that.”

“True.” I tip my head to one side. I shouldn’t have said anything about his arm, because now we aren’t kissing anymore, and I’m pretty sure I’d rather be kissing than talking. “Are you done kissing me already?”

“Yeah.” He raises one shoulder like he's bored and chucks me off his lap. “In fact, next time we make a deal, we should probably just shake on it. After all those supermodels, kissing a girl from my hometown just doesn’t quite measure up.”

I land on my back in a heap, but push myself up on my elbows and narrow my gaze. There’s a glint in his eye that I don’t think even Andrew could catch on camera. “Are you lying to me again?”

His shoulders relax and he leans over me, placing each hand between my arms and my body. I sink deeper into this heavenly sectional with his weight. “Yes Cadence, I’m lying to you.” He slides his hands under my back, pulls me up to him, and puts his lips back where they belong. On mine.

He’s back to kissing me softly and I don’t have the heart to turn his whispers into growls again. If I get hurt, I guess I get hurt. In the meantime, I’m going to concentrate on being the best fake girlfriend he’s ever had. He’s never going to want to replace me. Right now I think that means running my hands through his hair and running my lips slowly down his cheek and into the hollow of his neck.

He swallows hard in response and his fingers plunge into my back. Yeah, that was an excellent fake girlfriend move. I drag my lips to his ear and nip it, and then show him a few more of my moves.

They all work.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

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