Escorting the Actress (The Escort Collection 2)

No one had run a story about Kyle being my stepbrother or my escort—or both, God forbid. But I felt as if I was holding my breath every day, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

I got multiple daily texts from Lucas, Shirley, Gigi and Tori. Everyone agreed that we were doing great. I even got a note from Officer Scott and Officer Deborah, thanking me for the gift cards, balloons, flowers, coffee, and doughnut bonanza Kyle and I had personally delivered to their precinct. I'd also given them, and all law enforcement in general, a long-winded, teary, and heartfelt apology.

All in all, considering I'd hit rock bottom only a short time ago, things were looking immeasurably up.

So of course I knew it wouldn't last.

* * *

Kyle was waiting for me to go to the gym. We were running late, which he hated. I got into the kitchen, and whatever he was about to say died on his lips as he inspected my lycra workout pants and snug-fitting tank top.

"Sweet baby Jesus in the manger," he said.

I laughed, blushing as he stared at me. "What?"

"Nothing," he said, his eyes raking over me hungrily.

I felt myself blush deeper, in pleasure and in anger at myself. I was playing a dangerous game, and I knew it. I craved his eyes on me. I craved more than that, but in my heart, I knew his eyes were all I could ever have.

"You look nice," he said, his voice strained.

"Thanks." I flashed him a grin in spite of knowing better.

He held out his hand for mine, and I took it, my eyes tracing the lines of his biceps, visible from beneath his T-shirt.

"Let's do this," he said, and my insides clenched.

"Okay. Let's do it." It. All sorts of It.

We went outside for the flashing cameras and the myriad of questions, and I found, quite unexpectedly, that they no longer bothered me at all.

* * *

Kyle made me do weights, which made me scowl, but he put his hands on my waist to hel

p me, which made me smile.

Which made me scowl.

"You don't need to touch me like that," I whispered. "We're inside."

"You never know who's taking a picture," he said into my ear. "Like that guy? The one who keeps checking himself out in the mirror? He could totally be an XYZ informant."

I looked at the huge, fake-tanned man Kyle was talking about, and I giggled. He was watching his reflection in the mirror as he lifted enormous weights over his head; it seemed as though he only had eyes for himself.

"He doesn't look too interested in us," I said.

Kyle kept his hands on me. "Better safe than sorry."

Resigning myself to the garbled emotions running through me, I lifted the heavy weights again. He kept his hands on my waist, and heat rushed through me. For once, I just let myself enjoy it.

* * *

As we were leaving the gym, Kyle threw his arm around me.

"Ew, I'm all sweaty," I said, recoiling.

He gave me a wicked grin. "I know, and I don't mind one bit. Besides, you know our friends are waiting outside."