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“Give. Me. The contract.” Each word is growled through tight teeth as she struggles to reach the napkin.
“No.”
“That’s your favorite word, isn’t it?”
“No.”
I drop the napkin beneath the chair, framing her ribs with my hands. The plan was to keep her from reaching, but with warm satin beneath my palms, I freeze. Willow sucks in an unsteady breath as my fingers flex on their own.
I should let go. I need to let go.
It would be easy to stand and set Willow on her feet. Then there wouldn’t be all this…touching, making it hard to remember what position I play. Decision made, I flex my quads only for them to turn into limp noodles when Willow’s hands slowly trace up my chest.
She gently fingers the petals of my daisy boutonniere. “Did you do this on purpose?”
I nod.
“Kindhearted man wrapped in a coat of burs,” she murmurs, barely audible over the blaring Ke$ha song and the post-game recap.
My mouth opens, but I don’t have words. Though I don’t usually talk much, I suddenly want to explain to Willow why I’m this way, why it’s better if I block everyone out.
But then Willow’s gaze ticks up and stalls on my lips, and all thoughts leave my brain. She draws in a shaky breath, drifting closer. I find myself leaning in as my life distills down to this chair, in this apartment, and the woman who’s more vibrant than every color ever recorded.
When the front door flies open, we both startle.
Delilah immediately covers her eyes with a hand. “Do you want to text me when it’s safe to come back?”
“No. Stay,” Willow says, hopping off me.
I rocket to my feet. “I should—”
“Yes.” She pushes me toward the door with a nervous laugh. “You need to go. Get on out. But, um, we’re still meeting at the courthouse at ten?”
I nod, stepping through the threshold.
“Okay, great. Everything about this is totally normal and not weird at all. And we’re fine. Right? This is fine? You’re fine?” Her cheeks grow pink. “I mean, obviously you are, in general—and especially in that suit. It looks like you were poured into that thing.” She swallows hard, putting her hand on her hip then fussing with the robe tie before placing her fingers back on her hip. “What I mean to say is—”
“Everything’s okay, Willow,” I tell her, leaning forward and placing a quick kiss over her temple. “I’ll see you soon.”
Willow doesn’t answer, just stands there, blinking, like I short-circuited her brain. To be honest, I’m just as shocked at the casual show of affection as she is.
“M’kay. See you then.” Delilah tucks her friend behind her and closes the door in my face.
I spend way longer than I should staring at the orange eviction sign.
What the heck was that?
I’ve never been a fan of public displays of affection, which is why I knew Willow pretending to be my wife wouldn’t be difficult. Her just being in the same room with me would be proof enough. I barely held Brielle’s hand in public, let alone kissed her in front of anyone besides my family.
Numbly, I turn toward the stairwell. I make it three steps before the whispered squeals coming from behind Willow’s door bring a wild smile to my lips. Instead of forcing it away, I let my mouth stay curled all the way to the parking lot.
Chapter 14
Willow
Ipunch Delilah’s car console with an unsteady finger, silencing “Chapel of Love.” Since I spent most of yesterday in an eerily calm haze, even after meeting Shane’s terrifying lawyer, my nerves are finally catching up to me. I’m hovering on the verge of throwing up while also fending off a full-blown panic attack.
Add in the fact that I almost kissed my groom before an officiant instructed me to do so, and my skin feels like it’s been electrified. It’s just that Shane’s small gestures, how he quietly pays attention while perpetually protecting me, are so unbearably sweet.
