I do my best, but my voice still wavers. Alex snaps his gaze to me.
“I don’t want to lie anymore. And it would bother you, wouldn’t it?”
A knot lodges in my throat, making it hard to swallow. I avert my gaze, schooling my voice to be strong, steady. These types of conversations always get nasty. At best, he’ll say I’m possessive. At worst... I don’t want to think about the worst right now.
I try evasive maneuvers. “Doesn’t matter.”
“Yeah, it does matter. You matter to me. Summer, I can’t read your mind.”
“Trust me, you wouldn’t want to read my mind.”
> “Try me. Why are you so tense?”
I realize I’ve been chewing my lower lip and stop. Alex skims his hand from my belly up to my chin.
“Tell me,” he beckons.
“Well, you started by faking things last time too... and then it turned real. I know it’s about friendship now, but...”
My mom always says honesty and communication is the key to a lasting relationship. In my experience, admitting my fears was the kiss of death. But this is Alex. I can trust him. Drawing in a deep breath, I open my mouth. Here goes nothing.
“The thought of you having to go out with her in private, even as friends, makes me want to scratch something.”
“Why was it so hard to admit it?”
I blink twice, shrugging. “Because insecurity isn’t cool?”
He takes my face in both hands, kissing my temple. “I don’t want cool, Summer. I want honest. I want real. Look at me.”
Taking a deep breath, I up my focus to his eyes.
“You’re all I think about. When I imagine the future, you’re all I see.”
Emotions bubble up my throat, even as the surprise of his words leaves me breathless.
“You do?” I manage to croak out.
He nods, more to himself, seeming surprised by his own admission. I read once that feelings have a way of sneaking up on you, growing without asking for permission. I didn’t understand the sentiment until now.
He brings his hands to my waist. I rest my palms on his bicep, loving the feeling of his hard muscles under my fingers. He’s so strong. All man. All mine.
“I’ll tell Preston I won’t do it. Being seen with her in public would fuel speculations, and I don’t want that. We wouldn’t be in this mess in the first place if the studio hadn’t used our personal lives as a marketing stunt. I’m not playing that game anymore. I didn’t want to do it anyway, and even less now that I know how you feel about it.”
He’s being so kind, so understanding. He didn’t react at all like I expected.
“Why are you so accommodating? You’re going to so much trouble for me. I bet there are thousands of girls out there who’d make things so much easier.”
“But I want you. I’ve wanted you since I kissed you the first time. And now we have something, and I don’t mind putting in the work to keep it. It’s worth it. You’re worth it, Summer Bennett. What we have is real and beautiful, and you’re precious.”
I’ve never heard a man talk so honestly, state things so simply. He’s willing to work on what we have, because it’s worth it to him. I’m worth it. I’ve never heard anything more romantic.
And because my romantic streak is wired to my tear ducts, I blink away tears as Alex starts kissing my neck, skimming his hands up until his thumbs are brushing the sides of my breasts. It’s hard for me to think when he does that. Then I don’t want to think at all anymore. I want to feel, to touch, and taste. I want to be wrapped up in him. His hands are everywhere. Moving from my waist up my back, down to my hips, cupping my ass.
He peels off my shirt, then my pants and panties. Poof! My bra goes next, and then he presses his hard—and clothed—body against me. The friction of the bulge in his jeans low on my belly shoots sparks of awareness up my nerves. I push him off me, needing a little space from all the testosterone flying around to make a plan of attack. My favorite place for sexy shenanigans is the bed. But it’s so far away.
The couch is plush and comfy, and it will have to do. When I grab the hem of his shirt, ready to get rid of the pesky thing separating me from his skin, he stops me.
“No!”