“Good,” he murmurs, his gaze flicking to my lips for a brief moment before traveling back up to meet my eyes again.
The intensity in the room is palpable as we stand there, bodies pressed together, neither of us making a move to break away. My mind races.
This is only for the camera. He’s only touching me to make Harper jealous.
I can do this.
Tristan’s grip around me tightens slightly, and I can’t help but notice the way the muscles in his arms flex against my skin. His scent envelopes me, intoxicating and musky.
“Amelia.” His warm lips brush against my cheek ever so gently.
My thoughts scatter like startled birds. I push away from him, desperately trying to regain control over my racing pulse. “We need to get out of here before the time runs out.”
With trembling hands, I grasp the key tightly and insert it into the lock. As I turn the key, the door opens with a loud click, signaling our victory in the escape room challenge.
“We did it,” I shout.
“Youdid it,” Tristan says. He hesitates for a moment. “Tomorrow’s our next one-on-one date. Are you ready for it?”
The huskiness in his voice makes my skin heat. Our next one-on-one is going to be the “romantic” date. Serena’s was three days ago, and they had a candlelit picnic on the football field.
I’m not ready, but I have tonight to prepare myself mentally. I can’t soften toward him.
He needs to stop being so damn sweet.
I’m going to get my revenge before this is over. Nothing Tristan says or does will stop me.
CHAPTER 8
Amy
When the door to my dorm room shuts with a soft click, I rush over to my laptop.
My fanfic is the only solace I can have right now.
It seems like such a blur—his hard arms wrapped around me, his warm breath against my cheek.
Amelia.
After grabbing my laptop, I kick off my shoes and curl up on my bed. It takes only a moment to immerse myself in Rosings Park, and before I know it, my fingers are flying over the keyboard.
Mr. Darcy is approaching Elizabeth in the drawing room of the parsonage with his usual stoic face, but there’s a hint of wickedness in his eyes. Dominance. He sits beside her. Close. Too close for propriety. Especially since he called on her knowing Mr. Collins and Charlotte would be out.
Elizabeth pulls back.
“Lizzy,” Mr. Darcy whispers, and Elizabeth’s face flames at the use of her Christian name. “It will not do…”
Elizabeth frowns. “Pardon?”
“My feelings will not be repressed,” he says, and a wicked smile spreads over his face. Elizabeth hardly thought him capable of smiling in such a way. He looks dangerous.
“I have struggled in vain, and I can bear it no longer,” Mr. Darcy continues, his hand edging closer to Elizabeth’s. “I love you, Elizabeth.”
Elizabeth’s heart flutters. The way he looks at her sends shivers down her spine. With a sudden burst of courage, she leans in closer to Mr. Darcy. Her lips brush against his ear as she whispers, “And what do you plan to do about it, Mr. Darcy?”
Suddenly, Mr. Darcy stands and pulls Elizabeth to her feet. He presses her against the wall and kisses her fiercely on the lips.
Elizabeth moans into his mouth, her hands knotting in his hair. She feels the hard length of him pressing against her thigh.
