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“I hate that,” I say. “But fine.”
I’m not taking handouts from Jesse friggin’ Taylor. I’ve got to havesomeboundaries.
God, what is Billy going to think? Jesse arrested him.
Billy also deserved to be arrested.
“Good. I’ll take care of the proposal. We’ll make it public so the town hears about it. We’re going to the museum tomorrow evening with Alex. Jayjay and Cash invited me,” he says.
“I’ll do my best to smile when I see you,” I say.
“I don’t care how you look at me,” he replies. “Just as long as you’re looking. Once we’re fake married, you’re mine forhowever long it takes. Could be a year. No actual paper’s signed, but we’ll look like the perfect couple.”
“Ditto, fuck boy,” I say. “That means no touching other women. Can you do that?”
“Yes.”
The reply is immediate. Firm.
“Rule number one,” I say, drawing a line in the condensation on the side of my glass. “No sex.”
Jesse chokes on his drink.
I bite back a smile.
His nostrils flare. “Rule number two. You call me your husband. I call you my wife.”
My core heats.
I glare at him. “Rule number three. You don’t tell me what to do.”
“Rule number four. You don’t fall for me.” A smirk.
“So arrogant,” I say.
“I’m serious, Angel. I don’t do love. I’ll only let you down.”
The pizza arrives before we can continue down that avenue of broken glass, and I’m grateful. Pepperoni is my favorite, and I take a bite and moan.
Jesse stares at my mouth.
I hold up a finger.
“Rule number one.”
His jaw clenches and pops, and I love that, for once, I’m the one getting to him. Maybe this fake marriage agreement won’t be that painful. Jesse crams pizza into his mouth, and I do the same, both of us eating like pigs over a damn trough. We both slow and stare at each other at the same time.
“Are you mocking me?” he asks.
“No. Are you mocking me?”
“No.”
We continue eating.
I wipe my fingers off on a napkin, then drag it over my mouth.
“Can I ask you a question?”
