Cowan crashed in first corner. Royce had engine issues and retired the car on lap forty-nine.
We played our part, walking out hand in hand but as soon as we were in the car, he dropped it as if it was too painful.
The drive is slow and quiet. I keep wanting to talk, but what do you say? He is scrolling on his phone, and an ache settles in my chest.
“I’m sorry.” My voice breaks.
“It’s fine, it happens.” He shrugs it off.
“Okay.” I nod, rolling my lips as I turn my attention to my hands in my lap.
We don’t speak for the rest of the drive. We don’t speak through the hotel, but he makes sure he puts on the show we’ve signed into. We don’t speak as he walks me into the suite.
“I’m going to shower.” He just about squeezes out the words before he vanishes.
I don’t respond. Instead, I set myself up on the sofa with my laptop when my phone buzzes. It’s Maria.
“Hey.” My voice is upbeat even though I feel blue.
“Hey, my favourite author, how is it going? Your social profiles are looking fantastic, your followers are still trickling in. We’ve seen a rise in your sales, too.”
My eyes slice to where Royce disappeared to knowing full well he is contributing.
“Yeah, it’s going…” I stare at my word document. “It’s moving in the right direction.” I force a smile on my face and ignore the sickly feeling that swarms in my lower stomach.
“Just keep chipping away. How is the shadowing going?” she asks, but she seems hesitant.
“Well, Royce is very forthcoming and answers anything I am stuck on. He’s willing to help wherever he can.” My skin heats at his words on the plane.
“And the fake relationship, people are loving you.”
Great.
“Going as well as a fake relationship could go,” I mutter before trailing off as she talks over me, but I’m not listening. My eyes are pinned to the bathroom door. “I’ve got to go,” I cut her off and close my laptop lid down.
Pushing to my feet, a spark of confidence dances up my spine as I walk to where he is. I should knock, but I push through the door. There he is, standing under the shower looking slightly haunted.
“Did you mean what you said about helping me?”
He blinks once, twice.
“Did you? You’ve read the books, you’ve made comment about the sex scenes… so I am asking you, can you help me?”
A slow smirk tugs at his lips. The water beats down over his body, his dark hair is dripping wet, and he has never looked so hot.
“I can help you.” He nods.
“Good.” I turn and walk out of the room.
What am I doing? Pacing the lounge, I am lost in thought when he pads into the living room. His low grey sweatpants leave nothing to the imagination.
“What do you want from me?” he asks, his voice low.
“Tell me what I am doing wrong.” I stop in my tracks, nibbling on my fingernails.
“With?”
“You know what.” I can’t even believe I am allowing this to happen.
