Chapter 6
Reed
It’s difficult to focus with Olivia in the shower.
My gaze keeps drifting to her body. Rivulets of water run over her bare collarbone, down to her chest. I have to shuffle behind the sink slightly so that she won’t see my hard-on. I don’t want to give her any reason to think this is a bad idea.
But fuck… seeing her under the spray, I’m so tempted to join her.
I know I shouldn’t. She’s still adjusting to this new idea of mine, and I don’t want to scare her off.
Once Olivia’s out of the shower, I take her out for breakfast. Not just because it’s chivalrous, although I do feel like treating her a little bit—last night put me in a good mood, as did the sudden solution to my problem.
Mostly, the two of us need to hash things out. We need to discuss our engagement, and how to introduce it to the world.
Olivia’s a little bit reluctant to join me for breakfast, but there isn’t much food in her apartment, and we need to set the ground rules, so she agrees to come with me.
We head over to a diner around a block from her apartment. I request a booth in the back corner, where we can’t be seen from the windows.
As we slide into the booth, I notice that Olivia looks uncomfortable. For an instant, I’m worried. I don’t want to pressure her into anything she’s uncomfortable with.
Then I notice her gaze drifting to the walls, the floors—everything in our vicinity. She’s not uncomfortable with our arrangement, I realize; she’s self-conscious about this diner, just like she was about her apartment.
“This place seems great,” I tell her. “I love diners like this.”
I don’t even have to lie to make her feel better; it’s completely true. The perfect breakfast place is always a hole-in-the-wall with a huge menu. These places smell like fresh coffee and sound like endless chatter. It’s the sort of place where everyone is anonymous.
She gives me a startled look, but seems to relax a little. “Why? Couldn’t you go anywhere you want? Why not go for a brunch spot, or—”
“They make the best hash browns at places like this,” I say, flipping through the menu. “Not afraid of a little grease, you know? That’s a hangover necessity.”
“Are you hung over?” she teases, the confidence returning to her voice.
“Only a little. But I gotta be sharp, right?” I shoot her a wink. “We’re in problem-solving mode today.”
“Fair enough.”
A waiter stops by our table, a fresh pot of coffee in his hand. “What can I get for you guys?”
“I’ll take a black coffee, and my lovely friend here will have a mocha,” I say.
Olivia gives me another wide-eyed look, but doesn’t protest. I figure that she’ll be hungry after last night, so I decide to go for a big breakfast. “And we’re gonna get the whole shebang.
Two breakfast slams, please, and a side of extra hash browns. ”
Once the waiter leaves, Olivia hisses at me, “How did you know I’d get a mocha?”
“Because I’ve been out to brunch with you half a dozen times,” I say patiently. “Remember? Our friends are engaged.”
“Yes, but—”
“Hey.” I tap my forehead. “I’ve got a mind like a steel trap. Nothing gets by me.”
A flush rises in her cheeks, and I have to smother my grin of satisfaction. Even though this whole thing is just fake, just for show, I have to admit that it’s fun to get that reaction out of her.
She looks away. “We should get to work.”
“Right,” I say, trying to sound businesslike. “Let’s figure out how to present this.”
Olivia nods. “What’s the story?”
“I’m thinking that we’ll want to lean into the whole ‘childhood friends’ aspect of our relationship. The press and the tabloids will all eat that up, and it’ll be the perfect rationale for our quick engagement.”
“Why?” Olivia asks.
“We already know each other,” I explain. “The media won’t be able to frame it like I’m rushing into things, or like we got serious too fast.”
“If you say so.” She sounds uncertain, but I press on regardless.
“You’ll be the one that got away, only to come back and reform the bad boy. The press is gonna eat that up, trust me.”
She shrugs. “Yeah, I guess. I’m not sure that’ll work, but you know the media better than I do.” She leans forward. “By the way—”
Whatever she’s about to say is interrupted by the arrival of our drinks. I sigh in relief as the waiter hands me a ceramic mug of black coffee, inhaling the earthy scent. About time!
Once he leaves, Olivia says, “Before we figure out anything else, I want to talk about our rules.”
“Aw, that’s such a buzzkill,” I say, leaning back with my coffee. “Why can’t we do the fun part first?”
She raises an eyebrow, though I can tell she’s trying not to smile. “Because the serious part is more important. Sorry. Rules first, or this is a no-go for me.”
I lift one shoulder in a lazy shrug. “Sure, I get you. Let’s do rules.”
“Okay,” Olivia says. She whisks some of the foam from the top of her mocha, then sucks it off of her finger while she thinks. I bite my lip, trying to squash the immediate thoughts that come to mind. None of them are appropriate for a serious conversation. “Got any suggestions?”
“Well,” I say slowly, “if this is going to seem like a real relationship to outsiders, you probably need to move in with me.”
She folds her arms. “But what about my apartment?”
“Don’t worry about that,” I reassure her. “I’ll pay for you to keep the apartment. It’s just—if we’re engaged, people will expect us to live together.”
“How would they find out?”
At that, I laugh. Olivia really has no experience being the subject of press scrutiny; I’ll have to prepare her for what’s to come. “Oh, trust me. They’ll find out.”
She nods, a small crease appearing between her eyes.
“Don’t worry,” I say quickly. “We can do this.”
“I’m not worried,” she insists, though I can tell that she’s lying. “Easy as pie. What else?”
“My father will want you to sign an NDA and a contract. Just basic stuff—his legal department will draft it. It’ll outline our agreed upon compensation, everything I need from you—especially the secrecy stuff. Is that okay?”
“Sure. I figured there would be something like that.” She takes a sip of her drink. “But it can’t be a complete secret. Our friends probably have to know.”
Internally, I balk at that; I can just imagine the flack I’m going to catch from Cole and Declan if they hear about this. But she’s right. If we want to keep this secret, our closest friends will have to help us. I nod in agreement. “That’s fine. We can include a clause for that in the NDA.”
“If you’re going to convince anyone that this is exclusive, we can’t have sex or date outside of our relationship.”
“That’s a given,” I agree.
“And if we’re going to keep these lines clear,” she adds, “you and I probably shouldn’t have sex, either.”
I don’t respond to that right away, grappling silently with a pang of disappointment. Being with her was incredible. I’m used to short relationships; being with new people is always more of a thrill than fucking the same woman long-term. But I definitely didn’t get my fill of Olivia last night.
There are so many more things I want to do with her, so many different paths open for us to explore in the bedroom. I’d been looking forward to it, honestly. Now, I’m facing six more months of celibacy.
But she’s probably right. If we keep that wall up between us, we’ll be able to keep this arrangement as careful and neat as possible.
“Yeah,” I say finally. “Yeah, that makes sense.”
“Anything else you want to add?” she asks.
I shake my head to clear it, trying to take my mind off of sex. “Well, we’re going to have to actually plan that wedding.”
At that, she laughs a little. “Oh, for sure. Get someone to take a picture of me trying on dresses, or whatever.”
“We have to act like it’s real, and that’s what they’re going to expect.”
“Works for me,” Olivia says. “Hell, it might even be fun.”
“That’s the spirit.”
“Oh,” she adds suddenly, as if a thought has just occurred to her. The smile fades from her face, to be replaced by a serious expression. “There’s something else I want in the agreement.”
“What is it?”
“You can’t be seen with other women. Especially ones you’ve slept with before.”
I purse my lips, nodding. “Well, yeah. Makes sense.”
“My reputation is important to me,” she says. “I want to keep it clear and scandal free. It needs to be part of the agreement. I don’t want anything bad to follow me out of this.”
There’s an intensity to her voice that makes me feel uneasy. History has shown that it can be difficult for me to avoid women from my past. But I’d be an idiot to ruin this chance over one request. Besides, Olivia is doing me a massive favor, and I probably owe it to her.
I’m not overjoyed by the arrangement we’ve made, but at least it’s settled. I try to tell myself that it’ll all be worth it in the end, though my thoughts keep straying to Olivia’s no-sex clause.
Six more months without sex. It’s going to be a struggle to resist her, especially when we’re living together.
I can do it, though. I have to. I’m determined to make her comfortable in this contract. I’m asking her for a lot, and the fact that she agreed to help me was a weight off my chest. I never would’ve dared to hope that she’d go for it.
I can manage to go without sex for six months.
The waiter returns with our food, which is exactly what I was hoping it would be: piping-hot piles of hash browns, perfectly cooked omelets, and greasy bacon.
Before we eat, I lift my coffee cup in a mock toast, and Olivia obligingly clinks her mocha mug against it.
I grin at her. “To the future Mrs. Eastwood.”