CHAPTER EIGHT
Jovana
“Because I refuse to drink alone,” I said to Sloane as I walked toward our couch, handing her a beer from the twelve-pack I’d bought on my way home.
“Girl, you never have to convince me to drink, you know this.” She took the bottle from my hand and clinked it against mine. “Isn’t this a rare sighting—both of us home, on a Friday night. Can the bar even operate without one of us there?”
I sat down beside her and dropped my feet onto the ottoman, sighing. “Probably not, and at this moment I could care less. Everything hurts, even my eyes. I need a break.”
“Same.” She turned toward me. “But you do have this smile on your face that I noticed when you got home this afternoon.” She nudged my calf with her foot. “What’s that about?”
I rolled my head until I was facing her. “What, I’m not allowed to be happy?”
She laughed. “You’re like a golden retriever. You’re always happy and something is always wagging on your body. But today, you just seem the happiest. So, spill it.”
She wouldn’t have thought the same if she had seen my face the morning after my meeting with Laura and Grayson. But two days had passed since my talk with them. That gave me enough time to process the details and the contract. To really consider what they were asking of me.
To wrap my head around marrying Grayson Tanner.
Maybe I was making the worst decision of my entire life.
Maybe I was doing this for all the wrong reasons.
Maybe I was completely nuts to be confident enough to think that somewhere, deep down, Grayson had feelings for me, and it would just take time and patience for those feelings to surface.
But I’d sent Laura a text before I’d grabbed the beers from the fridge, telling her I agreed to the terms.
Within thirty days of signing, I’d be able to pay off all my debt. I could cut down on the shifts I was working at the bar to really focus on building my business and create constant content to pursue my dream of being a full-time influencer. I’d be able to flaunt my relationship with Grayson in my social media posts, adding another layer to my persona, and another reason for my followers to want to live vicariously through me. Laura was right: my audience would melt over a love story, and to watch one unfold would only increase my visibility and engagement and followers. I’d be able to plan for my future—save a ton and open an investment account, things my parents hounded me to do since they were unable to.
And, most importantly, I’d be able to help my parents. A factor that motivated me more than anything.
Their situation wasn’t good.
I could change that.
I could give them what I’d always dreamed of.
But there was a massive downside to this agreement.
One that made my stomach ache.
That made my chest hurt.
That made me think of my parents and what they had and it made me want to cry.
I was marrying a man who wasn’t openly confessing his love.
I wasn’t even sure he cared about me.
The only thing I knew for sure—that I could feel every time I was in his presence—was that he was attracted to me. That it felt like he was doing everything in his power not to touch me, that he was straining to not kiss me.
In my gut, I believed there was more.
I just didn’t have proof.
And I didn’t know if things would change the more time we spent together. If it was even possible for Grayson to grow feelings when he was so anti-everything.
I just had hope.
But that hope was another reason I’d said yes.
Because despite how much of an asshole he was, I couldn’t get enough of his gaze.
His attention.
The way he made me feel.
I couldn’t stop thinking about him or scrolling through his social media, wanting to know everything about this mysterious, hard-edged man.
I couldn’t stop myself from wanting more.
I couldn’t ignore the feeling in my stomach, this foreign, nagging sensation that told me he was the one.
My goal, even if it felt outlandish and impossible, was to have Grayson fall in love with me.
To have the love that I saw every time I looked at my parents.
And that was the reason I’d shown him my sassy side when we’d been in Laura’s office. My semi-shy, timid, submissive side hadn’t gotten me what I wanted with him. In fact, if I had stayed the night, he would have rejected me the following morning. Possibly kicked me out. Most definitely turned me away. But once I laid on just a little sass, it appeared that Grayson didn’t know what to do with himself. He didn’t know how to handle a woman who talked back. Who stuck up for herself. Who had her own demands.
Still, those were two very important sides of me that held equal weight in my everyday life.
This was the real Jovana.
As authentic as it got.
And he was getting to meet all of me.
Even though it was hard to tell what he actually liked since he had only one side and that was grumpy, I had a feeling the sass had sparked something inside him.
It pulled at him.
It challenged him in a way where he hadn’t been before.
Still, that didn’t change the elephant in my life, and that was that I was going to be a wife.
In a fake relationship.
And somehow, I was going to have to convince my family, friends, and colleagues that this quick, whirlwind phase of dating that led straight to an engagement was completely normal. That I was falling right into love’s hands. That Grayson was the man of my dreams. That a marriage to him was everything I wanted and needed.
That this was soulmate-level kind of shit.
And at the end of the one year, I would have to swallow the massive lump in my throat, along with my pride, and admit to everyone—mostly my parents and followers—that rushing into marriage had been the wrong thing to do.
I was sure that once my parents found out their only child was getting hitched, they were going to have a slew of things to say. Warnings. Advice. Words of caution. And once the divorce papers were signed, I could already predict how many I told you so’s were going to be thrown in my direction.
So I needed to be extra convincing.
I needed everyone to believe that if there was a man made for me, that man was Grayson. That I couldn’t breathe without becoming his wife.
That there was nothing more solid in this world than our relationship.
And I needed to start now.
That was the reason for my smile.
Because first up was Sloane.
She wanted to know the cause of my grin, so I replied, “Well, I may have some news.”
“I knew it. Spill the tea, girl.”
I turned toward her after taking a long sip and tucked a throw pillow into my stomach, resting the beer on top of it. “You know how much I despised Grayson? And the way he treated me? And how painful it had been to wait on his party the other night, but how I was sorta hopeful by the end of it after I walked him out and we almost kissed?”
Her brows rose. “That would be hard to forget, yes.”
“He reached out the next morning and took me to breakfast.” I hated that I was lying. That breakfast was really a meeting with his PR crisis manager and attorney and that, somehow, this had become my life. Still, I had to roll with it.
“And?”
I chewed the corner of my thumbnail. “He apologized for everything—the way he treated me at his condo and the things he said to me, and that he regretted never getting my number so he could call me after and apologize.”
“He didn’t need your number. He could have just come into the bar to talk to you.”
“True.” I sighed. “But you’re missing the point.”
“Isn’t the point that if he gave a shit about you and your feelings, then he wouldn’t have rented a yacht with six other women? He would have asked you to cruise the Mediterranean instead?”
Sloane took zero crap from anyone and gave zero fucks.
I knew she was going to be a hard sell.
“We had one night together, Sloane. He wasn’t about to invite me on vacation—”
“But he invited someone. Six someones, to be exact.”
I set my elbow on top of the back cushion of the couch, holding my face with my palm. “What the Celebrity Alert didn’t show was that there were three other dudes on that boat with him. He wasn’t there alone with six other women. So, yeah, it was bad, but not nearly as bad as the way it was portrayed.”
“And you believe him?” Her tone told me she didn’t.
“He showed me photos of him and the other guys on the boat.” My voice softened as I added, “Yes, I believe him. And he feels like the biggest piece of shit for everything that went down.”
She guzzled at least half her beer. “So, let me see if I understand this. He met you for breakfast with his tail between his legs, and I’m assuming, by the way you’re looking at me right now, that he wants a chance with you. Please, for the love of God, tell me you told him to fuck off.”
“I didn’t.”
Her head shook while she stared at me. “Why, babe? Why are you giving this man even a second of your attention? He doesn’t deserve it.”
This was my chance.
An opportunity to make a Sloane breakthrough, especially since this was the part that wasn’t a lie.
Every word I was about to speak was the truth that lived inside me.
“Because when I left his condo, I felt it. And as I stalked his social media between our first and second encounters, I continued to feel it. And when I waited on his table the other night, I felt it even more. And when he took me into the hallway by the restrooms and pressed our foreheads together instead of kissing me because he didn’t think he’d earned the right to put his lips on me again, I felt it the most.” I reached across the cushions and put my hand on her shoulder. “I’ve never felt anything like this, Sloane. Never, ever. And I know the start was rocky and much more turbulent than I wanted”—I swallowed, feeling my throat tighten as I said and really processed those words—“but I know in my heart that this is right. That I have to give him a chance. That I have to see where this goes or ...” My voice lowered as I said, “I’ll regret it for the rest of my life.”
She was silent for several seconds. “Well, shit. I can’t exactly fight you on that, can I?”
“I mean, you could. But that would be dickish.” I winked.
As I pulled my hand back, hers extended and landed on the visor of my baseball hat, lifting it so she could really take in my eyes. “Does this mean I have to be nice to Grayson the next time I see him?”
“That’s probably going to be very soon, and yes, that’s exactly what it means.”
She let out a long, drawn-out breath. “Fine. But I’m still going to give him an extremely strict warning that if he hurts you or breaks your heart, he’s dead.”
I smiled. “I expect nothing less.”
“Good.” Her eyes narrowed. “That doesn’t mean I’m happy about this.”
“You don’t have to be. You just have to trust that I know what’s best for me and that I’m following my heart and that Grayson Tanner—despite how much we used to despise him—is the perfect man for me.”
Just as I finished speaking, a chime came from my phone, a sound specific to incoming texts.
I pulled out my cell and looked at the screen.
Unknown: It’s Grayson. Laura gave me your number and said you were signing the contract tomorrow. That means we need to set up our first date. I’ll be in touch with the details.
“That’s him, isn’t it?” Sloane asked. “I can tell because you have that goddamn smile on your face again.”
I made sure she couldn’t see the screen while I read his words once more and then shoved the phone back into my pocket. “I can’t help it. He makes me swoony.”
No matter what he said, like the professional text he’d just sent, or the directness that spewed from his mouth every time I was around him, it was all thrilling. Of course, sometimes more than others, but it still had the same result.
Grayson caused me to react—my heart, my body.
Every single bit of me.
“Swoony.” She groaned. “For the record, that word should be banned. Forever.”
I gently shook her shoulder. “Come on, you’re going to love this and you’re going to fall for him just like I have.”
“Yeah, yeah.” She finally gave me a smile. “We’ll see about that.”