Page 26 of Do It With Me

He tucked my hand into the crook of his elbow and gently rested his own hand on top of it, leading me to the stairs like we were about to enter a debutante ball. Everything in me fluttered at the sensation of his hand on mine—my heart, my stomach, something odd in my veins.

I didn’t fall over, though. That was a win.

A limo was waiting for us when we got downstairs, gleaming black and long enough to get lost in. Holden opened the door for me like a true gentleman. My hand brushed his for the briefest second as I slid past him to get in.

Sparks. Of course, there would be sparks. Shit. Why the hell are there sparks?

Thankfully, the interior of the limo did a brilliant job of distracting me from everything else that had just happened. I’d never actually been inside one of these before, but buttery soft leather passed under my palms. The lights were low enough to create an intimate, almost romantic atmosphere.

Champagne sat chilled and ready, because apparently, rich people had ice buckets in their vehicles, and beside that, there were strawberries on a platter.

And flowers. He got me flowers.

“Impressive,” I said, trying to play it cool but failing spectacularly. “You really went all out, didn’t you?”

He shrugged like it was nothing. “I didn’t want this to feel fake for you, so I’m making it feel real. It might help us get in character a little more convincingly.”

I rolled my eyes, but my cheeks warmed. “Fine. You win.”

He climbed in behind me, eyes raking across me in my dress every so often. I couldn’t keep my own eyes to myself either, so I didn’t call him out on it. Besides, getting to run my gaze across his broad shoulders in that suit made getting ogled in return totally worth it.

The ride was mostly quiet at first as a result, but it was surprisingly comfortable too. I found myself watching him in the low light, noticing little things like how he held the glass tight, but effortlessly, and somehow also in a grip that looked weirdly elegant. There was a calm to his posture that made my nerves settle and an intrigue in his eyes that made the butterflies flutter again.

Finally, he cleared his throat and motioned at the champagne. “That’s not supposed to just sit there. Can I pour you some?”

“Please.”

He leaned over and slid a champagne flute out of a little shelf, tipping the glass and filling it halfway before passing it to me. When I took it, our fingers brushed again and I felt my cheeks heat. I withdrew, watching as he poured the next glass for himself.

I snagged a strawberry and popped it in my mouth. He settled back again, turning my head to look out the window as I chewed. The scenery outside wasn’t nearly as interesting as what was in here though, so I turned back to him as soon as I’d swallowed, finding his eyes already—or maybe still—on me.

“Why would you want to make it feel real if it’s completely fake?” I blurted out of nowhere. I hadn’t even actively been thinking about it. “Oh, God. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”

Holden didn’t flush or seem flustered. Frankly, the guy didn’t even flinch. I was learning this about him more and more with every one of our encounters. Even our texts. Nothing seemed to faze him.

At first, he’d come across as an academic. The professor standing at the front of the class, annoyed by my interruption, but human in the fact that he’d also seemed intrigued by me—or, most likely, by the rumpled cartoon frog.

No worries, baby.

After that though, I’d started to see him for the titan he was, a guy who took everything in his stride and lived the kind of life I couldn’t even imagine. Right now, he was larger than life.

A billionaire who probably didn’t know what instant coffee even tasted like.

He held my gaze steadily, but his expression was faintly amused instead of irritated or offended. “You have every right to ask, Ella. It’s a good question, actually.”

“It is?”

He cracked the slightest hint of a smile. “Of course, it is. Aside from the fact that I thought arriving like this would make our act more believable, I also wanted it to be a special experience for you.”

My heart tripped over itself. “Why?”

“You helped me out when I was in a pinch. Even after the way I treated you during your first class, you agreed to hear me out. Then you agreed to help me. Maybe you’re doing it for the money. I honestly don’t know why you said yes, but even if you are, you showed up to dinner without asking for another payment. I respect that.”

“Why would I have asked for more money?”

He arched an eyebrow at me. “Most women I know would have demanded it if I’d offered them the same deal.”

My eyes narrowed. “Seriously, man. You’ve been hanging out with the wrong people.”