Page 40 of Capture My Heart

“You’re not the best patient, are you?” He placed his hand under her elbow and helped her down to the weight bench. Face to face, he stared into her eyes.

His were warm, and his hand was gentle as he brushed a loose strand of hair from her face.

She blinked but couldn’t look away. Where was that snarky wit she was known for? The one time she really wished she could put him in his place, all quips fled her mind.

Seconds felt like minutes and she’d swear he moved closer.

Or did she? Her body swayed in his direction.

“Your pupils look good. I don’t think you have a concussion.” He leaned back.

Amy closed her eyes and prayed for anything to end this humiliation. She’d been thinking about kissing him and he was checking her health.

“That would have been unusual, given I didn’t hit my head.” She rolled her eyes.

“It happened so fast. I didn’t know if you clipped the handrail on the way down.” He trotted to his office as he talked. By the time he finished, he was pressing an ice pack to her hip.

He knelt in front of her. One hand held the ice and the other was on her jaw. “Amy, you can’t keep avoiding me.”

“I’m not—”

“Really? Darting into your apartment when you see me coming up the stairs isn’t avoidance?” His brow crept up. “I know you canvassed the gym before you came in here today. Don’t give me that look, I have a two-way mirror in the office, remember?”

She was caught and there was no way around it. “I don’t think I can do this whole…” She waved a hand between them. “Fake thing.”

“Okay, how about we be friends and see if we can sell it as a new relationship.”

“I don’t know.”

“Okay, let’s date. No fake.”

Her head popped up. “What?”

“I don’t care. Whatever works.” His expression was so earnest that she almost agreed to a real relationship.

Amy took the ice pack from him and sat a little taller. “I will do my best to be the perfect fake…” she gulped. “Girlfriend.”

A radiant smile crossed Trey’s face. Seriously, the guy could be in toothpaste commercials. “I promise it won’t be that bad.”

Want to bet? was at the tip of her tongue but she bit it back.

“If you say so.”

He pulled her up. “Do you need help up the stairs?”

“No, I’m good. Thanks.” A dull ache stabbed her with each step, but no way she’d let Trey help her to her apartment. Some ice and ibuprofen, and she’d be fine in a day.

He didn’t think fake dating would be bad. She shook her head. If Amy didn’t get her lust for Trey under control, she might do something stupid, like let herself forget it was all a ruse.

Chapter 9

Three loud knocks sounded at her door, and Amy jerked the mascara wand away from her eye a fraction of a second before she caused a life altering injury.

She looked at the clock on her bathroom wall. Of course, he had to be early.

“Just a minute.” She finished applying her makeup so she didn’t look like she hadn’t slept in a week. She hadn’t, but she didn’t need to look like a Walking Dead stand-in.

She stepped back and scrutinized her appearance. Hair curled—check. Flowery skirt flowing—check. Neckline low—check.