Chapter 11
ELLORA
Iwas sitting on the edge of my bed while Bree fussed with the last stray hair sticking out of my updo. Mom had parked herself in front of the TV, seemingly entirely oblivious to Bree’s primping and my nerves.
Holden was supposed to pick me up in five minutes. Five minutes. Shit. When did it become that soon?
I stared down at the dress, fidgeting with the hem. I was not comfortable in fancy dresses. Not at all. My usual uniform of patterned yoga pants or jeans and oversized T-shirts felt like armor compared to this.
Plus, this crowd was going to be full of rich pricks who didn’t care about regular folks like me.
“You don’t know that,” Bree said when I shared the sentiment. “Holden’s not like that. He’s rich, but he’s also nice.”
I snorted. “Nice rich guys don’t exist. That’s literally a myth.”
“He is nice. You haven’t stopped talking about him for days.”
I groaned. “It hasn’t been that bad, but I suspect it’s also just because he’s suffered. He’s got that sort of haunted thing going on. It makes him seem more real. Mercedes made it sound like he had a rough divorce. You’d love her, by the way, Mercedes. We should all hang out sometime.”
Bree grinned. “That sounds good, but stop trying to change the subject. If you need me to sleep over and watch your mom tonight, just say the word. I’m happy to do it.”
I laughed. “That’s not happening, but thanks for the offer.”
My stomach was doing that nervous flutter thing, and I could feel the butterflies staging a full-blown revolt. I wasn’t sure if I was more nervous about meeting the people who belonged to his world or surviving the fake-date thing.
Bree gave me a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “You’re going to be fine. Just don’t trip on the way into the venue.”
I shot her a look. “Oh, thanks. That’s really comforting.”
She winked. “Hey, I’m just trying to think of things to watch out for. Don’t trip in your heels, don’t refer to him as Professor, and don’t forget protection.”
“Stop!” I smiled at where her mind had gone, though. Mine had been going there all day. And in those fantasies, I might have called him Professor once or twice. Although I would take that secret with me to the grave.
I stood up, inhaled a deep breath, and smoothed the front of my dress one last time, mentally trying to get in the game. Alright. Game face on. If I survive this, maybe I’ll even have fun. Maybe.
There was a sharp, deliberate knock at the door. My heart jumped. I gave Bree a quick hug, then called out, “Coming!”
I grabbed my purse and raced out of my room to give my mom a hug too, but then I lingered for a beat after I’d straightened up. She looked simultaneously so small and so completely normal sitting under the blanket, her eyes slightly glazed as she watched her show.
“Bye, Mom,” I murmured. “I’ll see you later, okay?”
She looked up at me like she was surprised I was here, blinking a couple times before she gave me a polite smile. “Are you here for bingo?”
“No, but Bree is,” I said, then took another deep, steadying breath and crossed the room to the door.
After giving her another wave that she didn’t even seem to see, I quickly slipped outside before Holden could see my mother behind me. I wasn’t ashamed of her. I just really didn’t want to invite his pity.
Not right now and maybe not ever, but definitely not tonight.
The door clicked shut behind me and I looked up. Holden was in a pitch-black suit that looked like it had been tailored by the angels just for him. My brain short-circuited as I took him in.
That dark, sandy hair that never seemed to want to stay in place was a little less mussed tonight, but a few strands still hung across his forehead a bit. His white shirt was crisp and his bowtie was perfect.
“Wow,” I managed, because that was the best I could do when faced with him looking like that.
Those deep blue eyes that were sometimes stormy were clear now, twinkling with something that looked a lot like mischief. He smiled a crooked, dangerous smile that spelled all kinds of trouble for the night ahead. “You look pretty wow yourself, Ellora. Are you ready?”
“Ella. Call me Ella tonight.” I swallowed past all the dry spots in my throat and took his arm when he offered it to me. “And I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.”
He tucked my hand into the crook of his elbow and gently rested his own hand on top of it, leading me to the stairs like we were about to enter a debutante ball. Everything in me fluttered at the sensation of his hand on mine—my heart, my stomach, something odd in my veins.
I didn’t fall over, though. That was a win.
A limo was waiting for us when we got downstairs, gleaming black and long enough to get lost in. Holden opened the door for me like a true gentleman. My hand brushed his for the briefest second as I slid past him to get in.
Sparks. Of course, there would be sparks. Shit. Why the hell are there sparks?
Thankfully, the interior of the limo did a brilliant job of distracting me from everything else that had just happened. I’d never actually been inside one of these before, but buttery soft leather passed under my palms. The lights were low enough to create an intimate, almost romantic atmosphere.
Champagne sat chilled and ready, because apparently, rich people had ice buckets in their vehicles, and beside that, there were strawberries on a platter.
And flowers. He got me flowers.
“Impressive,” I said, trying to play it cool but failing spectacularly. “You really went all out, didn’t you?”
He shrugged like it was nothing. “I didn’t want this to feel fake for you, so I’m making it feel real. It might help us get in character a little more convincingly.”
I rolled my eyes, but my cheeks warmed. “Fine. You win.”
He climbed in behind me, eyes raking across me in my dress every so often. I couldn’t keep my own eyes to myself either, so I didn’t call him out on it. Besides, getting to run my gaze across his broad shoulders in that suit made getting ogled in return totally worth it.
The ride was mostly quiet at first as a result, but it was surprisingly comfortable too.
I found myself watching him in the low light, noticing little things like how he held the glass tight, but effortlessly, and somehow also in a grip that looked weirdly elegant.
There was a calm to his posture that made my nerves settle and an intrigue in his eyes that made the butterflies flutter again.
Finally, he cleared his throat and motioned at the champagne. “That’s not supposed to just sit there. Can I pour you some?”
“Please.”
He leaned over and slid a champagne flute out of a little shelf, tipping the glass and filling it halfway before passing it to me. When I took it, our fingers brushed again and I felt my cheeks heat. I withdrew, watching as he poured the next glass for himself.
I snagged a strawberry and popped it in my mouth. He settled back again, turning my head to look out the window as I chewed. The scenery outside wasn’t nearly as interesting as what was in here though, so I turned back to him as soon as I’d swallowed, finding his eyes already—or maybe still—on me.
“Why would you want to make it feel real if it’s completely fake?” I blurted out of nowhere. I hadn’t even actively been thinking about it. “Oh, God. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”
Holden didn’t flush or seem flustered. Frankly, the guy didn’t even flinch. I was learning this about him more and more with every one of our encounters. Even our texts. Nothing seemed to faze him.
At first, he’d come across as an academic. The professor standing at the front of the class, annoyed by my interruption, but human in the fact that he’d also seemed intrigued by me—or, most likely, by the rumpled cartoon frog.
No worries, baby.
After that though, I’d started to see him for the titan he was, a guy who took everything in his stride and lived the kind of life I couldn’t even imagine. Right now, he was larger than life.
A billionaire who probably didn’t know what instant coffee even tasted like.
He held my gaze steadily, but his expression was faintly amused instead of irritated or offended. “You have every right to ask, Ella. It’s a good question, actually.”
“It is?”
He cracked the slightest hint of a smile. “Of course, it is. Aside from the fact that I thought arriving like this would make our act more believable, I also wanted it to be a special experience for you.”
My heart tripped over itself. “Why?”
“You helped me out when I was in a pinch. Even after the way I treated you during your first class, you agreed to hear me out. Then you agreed to help me. Maybe you’re doing it for the money.
I honestly don’t know why you said yes, but even if you are, you showed up to dinner without asking for another payment. I respect that.”
“Why would I have asked for more money?”
He arched an eyebrow at me. “Most women I know would have demanded it if I’d offered them the same deal.”
My eyes narrowed. “Seriously, man. You’ve been hanging out with the wrong people.”
“So I’ve heard.” He fixed his already perfect tie and brought his gaze back to mine, as even and steady as always. “Either way, just because it’s fake doesn’t mean it can’t be special. You’re doing me a favor and I wanted to at least make it memorable for you in return.”
Neither of us spoke again until we arrived at a big, Gothic church. With stone walls and stained-glass windows, it was dramatic, romantic, and beautiful. My heart was still pounding after that conversation, but I was flattered and bowled over by the fact that he’d said he respected me.
We slid into a pew just as the ceremony was starting. The couple were clearly in love, completely radiant as they stared at one another. The groom’s eyes never left his bride and the bride’s smile was so bright, it could light up the whole city.
Romantic vibes practically radiated off them and I found myself inching closer to Holden, resting my head lightly against his shoulder. He didn’t pull away. Not that I thought he would. Pretenses and all, but still.
When the groom kissed the bride, I grabbed Holden’s hand impulsively. He looked down at me with his sandy eyebrows raised, but gave my fingers a little squeeze.
Not too much. Just enough for more sparks to fly through me.
My heart thumped in a way I hadn’t expected, and I realized then that as much as this was supposed to be pretend, it was really, really nice to feel this close to him.
Much too nice, actually. My cheeks turned beet red when it occurred to me that it was so nice that it was getting me hot and bothered.
I shouldn’t be thinking like this.
Not here. Not now. Not in a church, before God and man, but the heat rising through me was undeniable. My pulse thudded in a way it never had with any other man, and it made me press my thighs together just a little bit.
God, the groom and bride were kissing, the vows had been said, and yet all I could think about was him. The way he smelled, the warmth of his body, the strength in his arm resting lightly against mine.
No man had ever made me feel this way just by sitting next to me, but none of those men had been Holden. He was one of a kind, and somehow, some way, tonight, he was all mine.