Page 67 of Fake It Till You Make It
“Noticed you had more followers on PerkyLateBloomer, too.”
“Yeah,” she said absently. “When I added my CashApp handle, I never considered people would donate to my account.”
Seems their followers speculated that PerkyLateBloomer and #SexyKittyVet had a thing going on. They would be right. Many of his female followers had placed bids under an account created in Amarie’s name. At first, they’dlaughed it off. But each week the bids for her to win grew. Folks wanted to see them together after the auction, even if she didn’t. Eli would donate to her account… if she wanted to keep him, forever.
He plated their pork chops and ladled a generous helping of mushroom and onion gravy on top before pulling the potatoes from the oven. “Spend the night with me.”
“Hmm, I thought we were talking about our final week’s campaign?”
He understood her hesitancy.
“We can do some naked studying.”
“Are you suggesting both activities together or separately?”
“Not picky. As long as you’re naked.”
“That takes the pressure off.” She smiled, but those deep brown eyes he got lost in every time she looked at him clouded with emotion.
“Does it?”
“No, I’m expected to excel at two unrelated sports, man.”
“What’s the probability of you allowing me to lead this hands-on demonstration?”
“Is this Dr. Sexy Kitty dirty talk?”
“Not dirty. Serious.”
“Eli.” She sighed. Uh, that wasn’t good. “I dream of seeing you naked. Really, I do. I mean with your big feet. My imagination, I just, whew. I have huge, with a capital H, expectations…” she trailed off. “But what about tomorrow? Remember, I’m the dopey romantic who wants the morning after to be the first day of forever, not a pill.”
“Let’s see where this leads tonight.”
“You said the same thing to the Black Bear when people asked if I was your girlfriend.”
He pulled a wine glass from the cabinet for her and a beer from the fridge for himself.
“My feelings, real. My care and concern for you, real. Me wanting to start every day with you by my side, real. The decision, the question you have to answer, is what you feel for me, and I know it’s more than money that keeps you here. Is what you feel for me real enough to take this next step with me?”
“Eli—”
He interjected, not sure he could bear the rejection before spilling his feelings like a puppy stepping in his water bowl and turning the whole thing over. This could get messy.
“I’m not the suit-and-tie kind of man”—he crossed the room handing her a glass of West Virginia’s finest Marechal Foch—“that you’re accustomed to.”
Amarie palmed his cheek with one hand, accepting the fruity wine in the other. “You’re better,” she whispered. “You’re the best man I’ve ever known, Eli Calvary. Brave, compassionate, dedicated, faithful. And the absolute best kisser I’ve had the pleasure of smooching on a regular basis.”
He leaned in for a kiss. “How about a permanent basis? Stay the night. Every night.”
“After,” she said with a smile.
He nodded, but not in agreement, before returning to the kitchen. “What? We’ll both explode in sexual frustration. We’re burning hot for each other.”
“You’ll be my treat after I finish the exam.”
“That’s your plan. Using me as an after-dinner mint?”
“Never, Eli Calvary. You are a full-course meal with an appetizer, dessert, and hot coffee. But if we’re going to mess up the best real relationship I’ve ever had, I’d rather have my exam behind me. There’s no ugly-cry exemption.”
