CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Hendrix
N ot like theater class. Not even close.
None of this has been.
Not his kiss I can’t stop thinking about in the hotel or the one for the cameras under the chintz-covered arch in the chapel where Elvis married us. It left me speechless and my body filled with a yearning I’m choosing to ignore.
One, I’ve sworn off men.
Two, Jase Gizmodo is used to playing women. He may be charming and sweet, but I’m under no pretenses that our kiss was more than a kiss to sell the lie, regardless of how damn earth-shattering it was.
Or how much I can’t stop thinking about it.
I glance at the diamonds glittering on my ring finger and my head dizzies.
I’m married. We’re married . And while the ceremony seemed like it should play out like the cheesy B-list movies where the couple gets married in Vegas, it didn’t.
Sure we laughed our way through it—the cheesy vows, the Elvis impersonator marrying us, the organ playing as I marched down the aisle—but that’s just it, we laughed our way through it.
We had the best time together. Tequila shots and voiced I do’s followed by holy shit as he pressed his lips to mine under the neon lights with Elvis crooning, complete with a corny photograph session after to top it off.
Followed by another shot.
I look over at Jase in the dimly lit elevator beside me. His bow tie is undone and hanging loosely around the unbuttoned collar of his dress shirt. The almost empty bottle of tequila is in one hand while the other is resting politely on my lower back.
He’s striking even now as I stare at him and think about the kiss earlier in the hotel room. His lips. His skill. The taste of tequila on his tongue. The way he stole my breath and heated my body in one fell, fucking swoop.
He turns to look at me, the blue of his eyes so light. I don’t know what I expected from him after the ceremony—anger maybe over having to get married, aloofness definitely given what I am to him—but it most definitely wasn’t the mixture of pride and mischief that I see in them right now.
A slow grin crawls across his lips as he shakes his head. “Sorry for the sucky last name.” He pulls me against his side and murmurs, “I’ve always hated it but now we can hate it together.”
“It’s not bad.”
“Whatever you say, Mrs. Gizmodo.”
The sound of those words makes my stomach twist. “You’re right. That might take some getting used to.”
“I think there might be a lot of that to get used to in the coming days, but we’ll figure it out. And if we don’t, my house is big enough that when you’re mad at me, you have plenty of room to steer clear of me.”
“You can just as easily be angry with me.”
He angles his head to the side and meets my eyes. “I doubt that’s possible.”
The elevator arrives at our private floor, but when I look around, it’s a different foyer than I remember. “I don’t think this is the right—”
“It is.” He takes a key card from his front pocket and opens the door, ushering me in before him. “It’s the honeymoon suite. Or rather, what my agent, Abigail, requested to be the honeymoon suite. To keep up pretenses, obviously.”
“Obviously,” I say.
“Who knows what we’re about to get. Ready to find out?”
If I thought the room I had earlier was extravagant, this one is that on steroids. The entire penthouse is lined with floor-to-ceiling windows, providing a stunning view of the Strip. The lights that line the wall are colored, but it’s the scattered flower petals, the chocolate-covered strawberries and champagne chilled on the table, and the heart-shaped bed with fluffy robes laid out for us that have me catching my breath.
Because if the nuptials and you may kiss the bride didn’t make this real, seeing all this sure as shit did.
Those nerves the tequila tamed? Yeah, they’ve come roaring back with a vengeance.
“Oh. Wow,” Jase says as he follows behind me. “All that’s missing is the vibrating bed.”
“Are those still a thing?” I ask, distracted as I move around and peek into the bathroom that’s larger than my entire studio.
“I’m sure they are somewhere,” he says. “We stayed in some pretty shifty places when we first started out, but I can’t say I ever saw one.”
“This suite is... gorgeous. Over the top. Ridiculous.” Completely unnecessary. I smile when I see my luggage is on the far end of the room. Clearly, someone must have packed it up and brought it here for me. I don’t know how I feel about that—someone doing things for me. “I’ll—uh—get changed. I’m sure you want to get back to Los Angeles and as far away from this as soon as possible.”
“Hey.” I yelp as Jase grabs my hand and whirls me out as if we’re dancing and then back into him. I land solidly against his chest and am greeted by his grin and a flutter in my lower belly. “This is some crazy shit, isn’t it?”
“It is,” I say and try not to think about his lips being so close. “Probably the craziest thing I’ve ever done.”
“Give it time. You’re married to me now. I’m sure there will be more times to stretch those wings of yours.” He chuckles as I become fully aware of every single place we’re pressed against each other.
“Noted.” Why do I sound so breathless? “Um. I’ll go get changed. My bag. It’s over there.”
“True,” he says but doesn’t let go of me. “It is.”
“I’m sure you want to get back home for... whatever. In Los Angeles. Away from here.”
“Do I make you nervous?” he murmurs, his eyes flickering to my lips before locking on my gaze.
My body wars between sense and desire—neither of which I want to win. This is fake. This whole scenario. We kissed. We got married. I’m normal and totally not his type.
“Yes.” I smile. “You do. Because we both know that we’re standing here thinking about the kiss while knowing the only reason we are is because of the poignancy of the moment. You don’t like women like me, and I just broke up with someone after two years so sure, it was a great kiss, but the moment surrounding it elevated it.”
“Cookie, no amount of talk is going to dampen my ego. That was a damn good kiss and you and I both know it.”
I step back from him, needing to break from his compelling charm. “I can admit it. Easily.”
He eyes me as I move about the suite. “What are you doing?” he asks.
“Getting changed.” Anything to change the subject and make me stop thinking about your lips and how soft they are.
“For?”
“Well, I can’t exactly wear this wedding dress on the plane. I’m sure your stylist would prefer it back sooner rather than later.”
“Huh.” I can sense his displeasure.
I reach back to unclasp the necklace but struggle with it. “Jase? Can you help me with this? I’m sure the jeweler you got this on loan from will need this back as well.”
“On loan from?” he asks as I glance over to him.
His jacket is off now, his hands are shoved in his pockets as he rests his shoulder against the wall, but it’s the muscle ticking in his jaw that catches my eye.
“Yes. Isn’t that how this all works?” I look around but don’t see it. “Did whoever move our stuff bring the box up here?”
“That’s not how I roll, Hendrix.”
“Meaning?”
“When I give gifts, I don’t get them on loan from the jeweler, and I sure as shit don’t want them back.”
Oh. Oh . He bought this for me? “But I was under the impression—I thought it was—”
“It’s for you. I saw it and was smitten with it.” His smile is tight but his eyes soften. “It suits you.”
I gulp as my fingers worry over it. This cost a ton of money. I know it had to. “I... I can’t accept this.”
“You did. You will.” He moves over to me and studies it for a beat before surprising me and pressing a chaste kiss on my lips. “Now, are we ready to see what the night will bring?”
“What? I thought we were leaving—”
“I know this is fake, but I celebrate all firsts in life. You never get them back so my theory is you better damn well remember them.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning the night is yours. What do you want to do? Have a nice dinner? Eat sushi on a rooftop? Go to a club? Party? Sleep? You tell me, and we’ll do it.” He holds his hands out toward the windows and the sparkling lights beyond. “The city is yours.”
He looks back over his shoulder at me, his grin wide, and I know I’m in serious trouble.
I may have made all kinds of promises to myself, so what is it about him that makes me want to break every single one of them?