9. Chapter Nine #2
The city buzzed around them—car horns, the hum of distant music from an open storefront, the rhythmic slap of runners’ feet against the pavement. A breeze carried the scent of something sweet from a nearby bakery, and the sun hung low in the sky, stretching their shadows long across the sidewalk.
They talked as they walked—about the book, about Paige’s plan for the first chapter, about Ethan’s thoughts on Aldean’s next move. And then Ethan caught an erratic movement out of the corner of his eye, and a few back-to-back flashes of light. He glanced ahead, confirming his thought.
He dipped his head toward Paige and murmured, “Don’t look now, but I think we have an audience.”
Stiffening, Paige did the opposite of what he’d told her, glancing around as if a lion were stalking them through the city streets. “What?”
He flicked his gaze toward a woman amongst the parked cars, phone angled toward them, flashing again. “You think she’s a fan of yours or mine?” he asked jokingly.
The women gasped and grabbed her friend’s arm. They squealed something intangible to each other.
“Yours,” Paige whispered, cocking a brow. “Definitely yours. Mine don’t squeal.”
Ethan smiled, and an idea hit him. “Should we test out our ‘fake dating’ skills?” Why not take advantage of the situation? It was the perfect setup.
Paige furrowed her brow. However, as they neared the women, now both blatantly taking pictures of them, she shrugged. “Might as well. Maybe we’ll get another viral post? That’d make Kaylor and Marsha happy.”
“Another viral post of us lovebirds out in the wild?” he jested, and smirked, but suddenly wasn’t sure what to do to play into the facade.
Hold Paige’s hand? Whisper sweet nothings into her ear?
Ethan settled for sliding his arm around Paige’s shoulders but second-guessed his decision when her whole body went rigid.
“You okay with this?” he murmured close to her ear, his arm slung around her back, his thumb lightly brushing her bare shoulder.
For a second, Paige stayed stiff. Her fingers gripped the strap of her tote like a lifeline, and Ethan wondered if she might swing the bag at his head.
But then—just as he was about to straighten up and let go—Paige surprised him.
She leaned in so that her body settled against his side.
Her warmth seeped through his thin cotton shirt.
Her gaze bored into his. Through him? Was she looking into his soul? And what would she find there?
Ethan swallowed, trying to control his body’s visceral reaction to her touch.
Hey, body, this is fake. Paige is acting. Settle the heck down.
His internal reprimand didn’t work, so he decided to just go with it, to follow her lead.
With his next breath, Ethan palmed the curve of Paige’s shoulder, pressing her closer, absorbing her soft skin.
Her lips parted with a breathy gasp and suddenly the air felt heavier, thicker, like the city and traffic had melted into a hazy blur around them.
The warmth of the sun was nothing compared to the heat of her pressed against him.
And then Paige’s big brown eyes slipped from his gaze, dipping and lingering on his mouth.
Did she want to kiss him?
His pulse spiked. His stride slowed.
Did he want to kiss her ?
Yeah. Yes. There was no doubt. He definitely did.
Paige blinked back up at him, her pink lips parting slightly, like she was about to say something—but no words came.
Instead, her teeth tugged at her bottom lip before she released it, leaving it flushed and plump.
Ethan swallowed hard at the sight. Suddenly, all he could think about was pressing his mouth to hers.
But that beautiful, heart-racing vision was knocked from his head with his next step . . . as he slammed headfirst into a street sign.
The clang rang out across the sidewalk, and pain slammed through his skull like a hammer.
“Ethan!” Paige grabbed his arm as he stumbled back, pressing a hand to his forehead. Heat prickled his skin. Whether from embarrassment or pain, he had no idea.
“Okay,” he muttered, standing still and blinking hard. “That—ow—hurt.” He pulled his fingers away from his forehead and stared unbelievingly at his hand. Was that blood? Perfect.
But Ethan forgot all about his bleeding head when Paige’s face paled. Too pale. The kind of pale that sent a shot of panic through his chest. Her lips parted, but no words formed. Instead, she exhaled a sharp breath—then squeezed her eyes shut.
His stomach dropped.
“Paige?” He stepped forward, but barely had time to react before her knees buckled, and she crumpled like a marionette with cut strings.
Instinct took over. Ethan caught her, arms tightening around her slight frame as she sagged against him.
For a split second, he couldn’t move—couldn’t breathe—because all he could think about was how wrong it felt to see her like this.
Paige, who was always sharp, always ready with a comeback, always standing her ground.
Seeing her fragile and vulnerable sent a rush of something protective through him.
“Paige,” he said again, softer this time, the pulse of adrenaline still thundering in his veins.
But she didn’t respond.