Page 52 of Motion to Dismiss

Sighing, I call Jameson.

“Yes, Scarlett?” he answers before it can ring.

“Can you remind me that I’m the best fucking liar you’ve met?”

He lets out a low laugh. “You are—by far—the worst fucking liar I’ve ever met.”

“That’s not what I asked you to say.”

“You’re the best liar, Scarlett, for the worst of reasons.”

“I’m going to mess up my debut because I can’t relax, and I know you may not care⁠—”

“I definitely care.”

“Well, thank you, but—I think I need to call Jeneva for some tips so I can calm down.”

“No, just open the door.”

“Because you sent me flowers?”

“For you to reject again? No…”

I walk over and pull it open.

Jameson is standing on the other side with a single red rose in his hand, looking better than any man has a right to.

His white button-down is slightly undone at the collar, and the second our eyes meet, he takes my breath away with ease.

There’s something in his expression I can’t quite place.

Something different.

“Thank you…” I reach for the rose, but he doesn’t let me take it.

Instead, he pulls me against his chest and kisses me long and hard in a way I’ve missed far too much.

He steps inside and sets me atop the table, and within seconds, I forget where the hell we are.

I forget about the show.

I forget about everything.

“I love you, Scarlett,” he says, sliding his hands along my back.

“Wait, I…” I’m still kissing him. “I’m not sure if I can let you⁠—”

“Help you relax?”

“No, I can’t if you⁠—”

“I dropped your father this morning,” he says. “I meant to do it weeks ago.”

My mind goes blank.

He kisses me again, harder this time, and every reason I had for keeping him at a distance starts slipping away.

It’s us.