Page 35 of Filthy Twisted Devil

In the picture, Luke’s leaning across the table to kiss me. I remember it, of course. It was the only time he kissed me the whole night. The rest of the night, he was the perfect gentleman, opening doors, pulling out my chair, and sticking to polite touches on my elbow and back. Even when he dropped me off back at my apartment, he waved goodbye when I got out of the car.

Which means that Luke probably knew the photo was being taken. That's the only reason he kissed me.

Disappointment and relief mix in my chest. As much as part of me wishes he kissed me because he wanted to, I always knew it wasn’t the truth. Luke told me our first kisses were practice, and the restaurant kiss was apparently what we were practicing for. It’s obviously not our first kiss, something the caption notes in great detail.

@ TorontoTea: Looks like things are heating up between the Twisted Devil and his newest lady friend. He’s never been spotted with a woman in public twice, and this mystery lady has been spotted at his side at least three times now. Has Luke Windsor finally found the angel who can make him settle down?

I roll my eyes. Of course, the Toronto Tea knows who I am. Brinley might not be writing for the gossip blog anymore, but they would know me by sight. Maybe they’re trying to drum up some engagement with people writing my name in the comments.

The microwave beeps, letting me know my mac and cheese is warm. I ignore it and scroll back up to the photo again. Someone must have taken it at that dinner last night, the one where he leaned across the table to kiss me.

It looks just as hot as it felt.

My eyes are closed, my body relaxed, all of me completely focused on Luke. He looks just as obsessed as me, his hand flexing territorially as it wraps around my jaw. I zoom in on the photo to look closer at that hand, because seeing the tendons flex makes my heart beat at a thousand miles a minute.

He’s holding me like he’s afraid what’ll happen if he lets go.

I lean back against the counter. Suddenly, my legs feel a little too wobbly.

My phone flashes, and the photo of Luke and me gets replaced with an incoming call from Brinley. I pick it up and put it on speaker.

“Hey, Brin. I was just warming up some mac and cheese. Let me guess, Beau cooked you some five-star dinner?” I have a feeling I know why she’s calling me, but I plan to stall as long as I can.

“He did make me some butternut squash risotto.”

“Some excellent butternut squash risotto with a balsamic glaze!” Beau shouts from the background.

“She didn’t ask for the full menu description,” Brinley says. “Sorry about him. I was calling to ask, did you see the Toronto Tea post?”

So much for my distraction strategy. “Uh, yeah. I did.”

“It's a good photo. Really convincing. Honestly, it weirded me out looking at it.”

“It’s honestly weird for me to see, too,” I admit. “The whole public attention thing isn’t me. I get that Luke needs it for his side of our deal, but I’d rather not have my business out there for the world to see.”

Brinley sighs. “I should have warned you more about that. I had some idea from my Peppermint era how bizarre it is to have your personal life plastered all over the internet.”

I lean against the counter. “You could have warned me all you wanted. It’s not like I had a real choice, though. After the whole Locke brothers Toronto invasion, the fake relationship was the best shot I had to get them off my back.”

“It must be weird kissing Luke, too.” Brinley’s voice is careful—curious without being accusatory.

“Of course it is. I’ve never had to pretend to kiss someone before. It’s strange, apart from the fact that it’s Luke.”

“It looks like it comes pretty naturally to you in the pictures. I have to ask, Eden. This thing with you and Luke, is it still fake?”

I bite my lip. The honest answer is…it’s mostly fake. The dates are fake. Any future we pretend to have together is fake. But the way I feel when he touches me…it’s real. My heart pounds, my face flushes, my knees get shaky. I have a physical reaction, but that’s just it. It’s physical. It’s not something I ever plan to act on.

“It’s an act, Brin,” I tell her. “We’re only doing it to fool my brothers. The PDA is part of that. Luke arranged for a photographer to take that picture, and that’s the only reason he kissed me. It’s not real.”

“Are you sure? Because no offense, but you're not that good an actress. And that picture…”

“You worked for the Toronto Tea. You know as well as anyone that it's easy to print things that aren't true. Pictures can be deceiving.”

Brinley pauses. It goes on long enough that I have time to grab a fork and prepare an emotional support bite of cheesy pasta.

“I just know how charming Luke can be,” she says finally. “You wouldn’t be the first girl to think he feels things that he doesn’t.”

My stomach drops. I put the fork back in the bowl, because I’m not really excited to eat anymore.