bhapter /bb54 /b

I keep my expression neutral, like this is no big deal. Because it’s not. Anyone on this ne can be a bfan /bor bsomeone- /bwho knows us, it’s only natural for us to be affectionate. “If you’re gonna keep passing out, you might as bwell /bget

bShe /bstares at me.

For a second, I think she’s going to refuseb, /bmake a joke about how weird this is, or push me awaypletely.

Instead, she exhales slowly.

Then, without a word, she shifts closer, resting her head against my shoulder.

It’s not perfect. Her curls tickle my neck, and she’s tense for a solid minute before finally rxing. But she bdoesn’t /b

move away.

Neither do I.

As the ne hums around us, the clouds drifting past the window, I find myself staring at the top of her bhead/b,

wondering-

What kind of guy was Zane Whitmoore to win her heart?

The thought sits heavy in my chest, a feeling I don’t want to name.

Emilia’s breathing evens out after half an hour, her body rxing into sleep. Carefully, I slide the book from herp and flip to the first page.

It’s a romance novel.

Women read about the kind of men they want, right?

It doesn’t mean anything.

It won’t hurt if I actually like the kind of guy she’d be into. It’d make our act more convincing.

That’s all.

I flip open the book and let my eyes skim the first few lines.

She knew she shouldn’t want him. He was trouble, wrapped in a smile that made her forget her own name.

I pause.

That’s… intense.

I can’t hold back my snort.

I nce down at Emilia, still fast asleep against my shoulder. Her lips bare /bslightly parted, hershes resting against

her cheeks.

b1/4 /b

bChapter /bb54 /b

This girl reads about men who make women forget their own names?

bI /bshake my head, turning another page.

The next line doesn’t make things better.

His voice was smooth, a quiet promise of danger as he murmured, ‘You’re mine.‘

I blink.

Jesus.

I full–on cackle at that, trying my best to be as quiet as possible not to wake Emilia up, but it’s hard.

I flip forward, scanning random paragraphs. The guy in this book–Ethanb, /bor Evan, or something like that–spends half his time staring at the heroine like she’s thest person on earth. The other half, he’s brooding about how he’s no good for

her.

Is that what women actually like? Iugh again.

I don’t get it.

I don’t get him.

I nce at Emilia again. She shifts slightly, her nose scrunching before she rxes again.

What did Zane Whitmoore do to make her love him? Was he the brooding type too? Did he tell her she was his in that deep, dramatic voice?

1

PFFT.

Even the thought is ridiculous.

But then is it really? If this is what Emilia likes would it really be okay tough about it?

I just hope it wasn’t goddamn Zane Whitmoore who set her standards in men–both fictional and not.

I click my tongue and shut the book.

I don’t like this train of thought.

I should sleep. After all, once we’re out of this ne it’ll be an entire month of watching Zane and pretending I feel something for Emilia.

My mouth suddenly tastes sour and I’m not in the mood to sleep anymore.

Instead, I stare out the window, watching the clouds roll by, wondering why the thought of Emilia loving someone like Zane Whitmoore sits so ufortably in my chest.

When we were teammates, when he wasn’t being an asshole, he was a bore. I never imagined what he bcould /bbhave /bpossibly done to pull someone so far out of his league:

b2/4 /b

bChapter /bb54 /b

bThen /bbhe /bbleft /bher after ten years to marry someone he barely knows.

My bjaw /btightens.

Well, I guess it’s a good thing. If he didn’t let Emilia slip through his fingers, this wedding cruise would be btheirs /bband /bmaybe I wouldn’t even get to attend.

And every single moment we’ve spent together won’t exist.

A

Hab.. /b

A soft murmur pulls me from my thoughts.

At first, I think she’s waking up, but then I realize-

She’s dreaming.

レン

Her brows draw together, her lips parting slightly as another quiet sound escapes her.

Then she starts moving.

Just a tiny shift, pressing her closer, her face tilting toward my neck.

I freeze.

Move, Liam. Or nudge her awake and adjust my seat, or do something that doesn’t involve sittingpletely still while my heart does something weird in my chest.

But I don’t. I don’t think I physically can.

Because suddenly, she sighs.

And it’s soft, barely more than a breath, but it sends warmth curling in my stomach.

bI /bswallow hard, turning my head slightly.

She’s right there.

Her curls brush against my jaw, and her breath is warm against my corbone.

This is… not normal.

This is the kind of moment that happens in those ridiculous romance books she reads. The kind where the guy stares at the girl for way too long, trying to figure out what she smells like.

(For the record, she smells like vani and something sweetb, /blike she might have made it in the bakery.b) /b

I shake my head at myself.

What the hell am I doing?

bI /bexhale and close my eyesb. /b

AM

bChapter /bb54 /b

bSleep/bb. /bbThat’s /bwhat I need.

I’ll wake her up in an hour. Maybe.

bChapter /bbComments /b

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