Page 30 of Big Dick Energy

“When this all goes public, and it will,” he said, his voice taking on a seriousness I wasn't used to from him, “that's the first thing that will surface, and I don't think either of us wants to be caught on camera doing something...”

“Something that would ruin our fake marriage,” I finished.

“We want to end this marriage on our own terms,” he added, studying me.

“If you're worried about me cheating on you, don't,” I said, attempting to lighten the mood. “Big dick energy, remember?”

He laughed, genuinely this time. “Right.”

“So we both come back here alone,” I said.

“Deal.” He held out his hand.

I took it. His palm was warm, and I felt it more than I should have.

“I'm heading out to meet Matt and James,” he said, picking up his phone from the table. He stared at the black screen for a second. “We should probably exchange numbers.”

“What? Why?” I asked, blinking rapidly. “Are you afraid I'll get lost between here and the elevator? It's a straight shot. Even I can manage that level of navigation.”

He cut me a look that was half amusement, half exasperation. “Because we are married.”

“Is that going to be your answer for every question I ask?” I challenged, crossing my arms over my chest. “What time is it? We're married. Where should we eat? We're married. What's the meaning of life? We're married.”

He nodded, dimples making a brief appearance. “Probably. It's convenient and technically accurate.” He handed me his phone. “Put your number in. Unless you want me to ask the concierge to send up a carrier pigeon when I need to reach you.”

I took it, opened his contacts, started typing D-a-v-i-n-a, then deleted it and typed Davidson instead.

We swapped phones back. Our fingers brushed.

“Promise you'll call if you guys get into any trouble tonight,” he said, his voice dropping to a register that did interesting things to my insides, like they were rearranging themselves to better accommodate the sound.

“Trouble.” I almost laughed, the sound catching in my throat. “Like getting drunk and marrying your arch nemesis? I think I've hit my quota.”

The corner of his lips quirked up, and he stepped into my space, our bodies nearly flush with each other.

“No.” He lowered his voice to a seductive tone I'd never heard before. “You're already married.” His hands curled around my waist, his fingers spread wide, and I suddenly couldn't think straight, my brain offering nothing but static like a TV channel off-air. “I mean, if anyone touches my wife.” He leaned down, letting the heat of his breath feather across my lips. “You let me know.”

I swallowed hard, the protective-husband spiel melting my insides like chocolate left in a hot car, sending a wave of heat straight to my core. The intensity in his eyes made me think he was going to kiss me, and for a horrifying moment, I realized I wanted him to.

Instead, he straightened and took a step back, leaving me feeling like I'd been standing too close to a fire and suddenly been pushed into the cold.

“See you tonight, wifey,” he called over his shoulder as he headed for the door, the sun from the windows highlighting the confident set of his shoulders.

As the door closed behind him, I collapsed onto the nearest chair, my legs suddenly unreliable.

“This is fine,” I told the empty room. “Everything is completely fine.”

CHAPTER 11

MR. & MRS. ACCIDENTALLY MARRIED

DALLAS

I leaned against the bar's sticky brass rail, nursing my second whiskey while the bass thumped through my chest.

On the elevated platforms, dancers in sequined bikinis danced to the beat of the music. Their performances commanded the attention of nearly every guy in the place, myself excluded.

We'd been here for hours. Matt and James were both three sheets to the wind, sailing toward a fourth. I was ready to call it a night three hours ago, right around the time fangirl number forty-seven shoved a Sharpie at me and requested I autograph her right ass cheek.