My eyes plead with him.Don't do this.
My hands start to tremble, so I set down my cutlery before anyone notices.
The room falls silent. The kind of silence that has weight. Ace is handling the fake engagement okay. A wedding. I know he won’t play along with that. I know if I ever get married, it can only ever be with Ace.
Walking down the aisle is a step too far. This has to stop.
"Excuse me," I say, standing, grabbing my purse, and walking to the bathroom at a pace that's just short of running.
I close the door. Lock it. Press my back against it. Close my eyes.
I put my hand on my chest and pull out my phone, opening Ace's message again—the stupid, filthy, perfect message, and use it to anchor myself.
This isn't real. I'm not marrying Hudson. It isn't real. And he can't make me do it.
Me: I wish I was there.
Acey: What would you do if you were here?
I smile. Despite the fact that thirty seconds ago I felt like I was about to pass out.
Me: I'd be on my knees, pulling down your boxers so I can free your huge cock.
Acey: My hands in your hair? Your eyes on mine?
Me: Yes. I'd run my tongue along the piercings first, digging my nails into your thighs.
Another image comes through. I press my legs together and open it.
"Fuck," I hiss.
There they are. Those four bars staring back at me.
Acey: And that's how hard I am just thinking about you doing it. Are you done with dinner?
Me: Almost. Hiding in the bathroom currently.
Acey: Well, you’re done now. Be a good girl and go to your room.
I blow out a breath. Ace was less than impressed with the fact that I was spending the night here. I don’t blame him. But he also didn’t want me driving an hour back into the city on my own in the middle of the night. He trusts me. And I’m lucky, I know that.
Me: Give me five minutes. I'll say I'm sick.
Acey: Two minutes.
I look at my flushed cheeks in the mirror and almost laugh. This is perfect. I can absolutely play off being sick. My phone is still buzzing in my purse as I re-enter the dining room. All eyes on me.
"Hudson, can I speak to you?"
"Honey, are you okay? You look like you're heating up," Audrey says, already half out of her chair.
I glance at the floor. "I came in feeling light-headed after the first champagne. But I feel worse now. I think I need to lie down. I’m so sorry."
Hudson's on his feet, arm around my waist, threading his fingers through mine.
"Yes. Go lie down, I'll take you," he says. Playing the part. Always playing the part.
"I'll have a nap and see how I feel. Will you guys be here later?"
