Ryder
I clasp Paige’s naked body tightly to mine. Having her like this feels so right. This, right here, is exactly how we should be.
Her beautiful lips curve into a satisfied smile. Euphoria surges through me, knowing I’m the one who put it on her face.
I press my forehead against hers and breathe in her scent. My heart is still drumming, and I’m relieved I didn’t slip up.
I love you.
Where did that came from? It just popped into my head, rolling out of my mouth as I kissed her.
It’s better that I say nothing. I doubt she would’ve gazed back into my eyes and told me, “I love you, too.” Paige is smart and practical. She would never do something as unproductive as falling in love with a guy she’ll ditch in a year. Being with me hasn’t been easy for her, and she wouldn’t be bothering if it weren’t for what I can offer for her baby.
As I let my hand wander over her curves, I remember the ugly things people said about her and how hurt she was. I never want to see her shed tears over a bunch of assholes’ comments again. After a beat of hesitation, I say, “Paige, do you want to go overseas?”
Sleep weighs her voice until it’s languid and mellow. “You mean for the honeymoon?”
“No. Until the wedding. It might be good for us to get away from all this…pressure.”
She shifts until she can look me in the eyes. “I thought you wanted to put on a good show for everyone?”
“We don’t have to be here for that. Besides, I’m tired of being hounded… Aren’t you?”
“Oh god, yes. But…I worry about Bethany.” Small lines form around her eyes and mouth. “I can’t leave town until I know she’s okay.”
“Of course.” Paige is too sweet to abandon her stepsister, even if leaving might give her some peace.
“We can talk about it later when we’re sure she’s going to be okay. But do you really want to go overseas now? We have so little time before the wedding.”
I pull her closer. “That’s why I hired a team to handle it. So we don’t have to worry over every detail. Like I said, all we have to do is show up and say our vows.” I try to keep my voice light, but somehow I can’t. The one-year period starts the moment we say, “I do.”
She snuggles against my chest and falls asleep. Her breaths tickle the spot over my heart. I study her face. Her long lashes fan over her cheeks, and her nose wrinkles as she rounds her mouth and mutters something that I can’t quite catch.
I don’t break the deals I sign. Despite my wild-boy reputation, I take my career seriously, which is why directors and studios love me. Only idiots think they can be high maintenance divas and have a long, flourishing career in a town as competitive as Hollywood.
But a horrific urge to rip up the prenup and tell Paige she can leave when I’m dead and buried pulses through my veins. Instead, I lie back and stare at the dark ceiling until the sound of her soft breathing lulls me into a restless sleep.
* * *
Paige
Ryder’s gone by the time I wake up. Maybe he couldn’t rest well and just gave up. I felt him toss and turn a few times during the night, but I was so tired that I faded back to sleep just as quickly as I was jostled out of it.
The room is meticulously clean, all my clothes neatly folded and placed on a chair. Did Ryder do that? If so, he might actually be ill, I think, laughing to myself.
The bedside clock reads nine. I stretch lazily and grunt at the satisfying soreness between my legs. I check the phone. A text from Oliver is waiting for me.
All OK. Thank god. But Bethany is being kept for observation. Just in case.
My body sags in relief. I write him back: Glad to hear that. Can I see her today?
A few moments later, he responds, Sure.
“Yes!” Pumping my fist, I hop out of bed. Bethany is going to be fine. Her baby’s undoubtedly all right as well, or Oliver would’ve said something.
I want to see her ASAP, make sure everything’s really okay. Then I’ll talk to Ryder about possibly going overseas. It might be a good idea for us to get away from the spotlight and spend some time together without any pressure. Come to think of it, we’ve never really had a chance to spend any time together alone.
After a quick shower, I throw on a bright magenta t-shirt dress that says “High on Life” in snazzy diagonal teal green letters. By the time I reach the kitchen, Elizabeth and Ryder have finished breakfast, although they’re lingering over coffee. She looks like she’s ready to model for some glossy fashion magazine. Her hair is perfectly curled and gathered into a bouncy ponytail, and the dress she has on matches the shade of red on her lips. Ryder’s more casual in a gray Avengers t-shirt and shorts.