Fiancée for Rent by Elizabeth Grey

Chapter 19

Liam

I opened my eyes and found Kylie in my arms, her ass to my morning erection. So, like the fool I'd been so far, I stayed that way, took in the way she fit against me. Her small frame curled, my chin resting on her head, my long legs curved up under hers. The heat of her under all the blankets burned, causing me to harden until I had to move around to let rest between her back and my abs. The curve of her breast against my arm, her one nipple was resting against my hand, who could blame me. I wanted to rip the t-shirt off her back and feast on her tiny yet perfect breasts. I closed my eyes and remembered how the light had caught them just right to show a deep pink hue in the barn. When they'd pebbled against my tongue that night, I'd become a champion in my mind, to have conquered a woman as beautiful as her.

Sure, I'd had lots of women of all shapes and sizes and intellect, but Kylie took my breath away, not only on a physical level but the more time I spent with her, she gave new meaning to being beautiful inside and out. Not to mention the way she filled out a dress as if the fabric had been cut just for her. Beyond all of that, she cared deeply about her family and friends. She had so much more depth than the film industry gave her credit. I hadn’t read her manuscript, but Jake did, and he called it a recommended read. I'd have to now, yet I dared to allow myself more reasons to like her, or whatever this was.

I remained frozen against her, stifling my groans until Charlie beat on the door, yelling about how his mother had said he could wake us now. He didn’t enter, but I couldn't begrudge our decision to share a bed given the luxury I'd woken up to. She'd wiggled away too fast despite her sleep-addled brain, which made her wobble once her feet hit the floor. The word endearing came to mind as I watched, smiling at her frown.

All through the day, we'd ignored the elephant in the room to enjoy each other's company. Neither of us could deny that we did. Since we'd been in Montana, the bickering had stopped, and we'd gotten to know each other better. I looked forward to each minute with her and her family, as dangerous as that idea was.

As we headed for one of her high school friend's New Year's Eve parties, I'd grown frustrated not to have her to myself in her bedroom. I craved a redo to the night before, where I'd pull her body to mine and ravish her. Kylie grabbed my hand, turning my attention back to her, the full moon shining brightly above the snow-covered roadside.

Looking down at the black and gray flannel she'd bought for me, I realized I'd never spent a New Years’ Eve so dressed down. Maybe my last one, basically in a state of undress, with a woman whose face I could barely remember. Look how far this fallen rock star has come. The thought of ringing in the New Year with a woman who was contractually obligated to be with me left a sour feeling in my stomach.

"Are you okay? I thought you would be excited about this?" I asked, given the tight set of her jawline.

"I’m fine. It’s just… I haven't gone to one of these things since David died. I couldn’t bring myself to attend without him. Everyone cut me slack and would come to visit me one by one at the farm, but I spent each New Year's Eve at home on the farm or in Hollywood by myself. Mostly in my apartment alone, having to be back for some work thing, an excuse not to attend any of these parties here. This night always marked another year I'd have to live without David."

"So why did you say yes to tonight if you didn't want to go?" A pang of jealousy wriggled its way into my heart. It’s selfish to be envious of her ex, I know. Still, I couldn't help myself. I froze at the implications.

"I wasn’t going to leave Montana without letting them all meet you," she said, squeezing my hand. "Sorry, but that hand-holding isn't for show. It's for me. For support. I need a friend."

"Sure, but it seems I'm the cause of your pain in a way. My being here forced you to face something you'd rather just ignore. Ignoring everything is my strong suit."

"Oh no. This isn't your fault. You can't take that on. They just want to meet the man I'm engaged to. They all think I’ve moved on now. You can no more take on the responsibility for what they want than you can for how famous you are or how messed up my life is. Not on you at all. In fact, I'm grateful to have someone with me this first time I go. Friends, remember?"

The last time she said it, she'd kicked the words from her mouth like an insult, a way to get back at me for suggesting such a thing. I furrowed my brow but made the appropriate response, the one I figured I should.

"Happy to be of service. Stick close, friend. Hopefully, all attention will be on me, and we’ll appreciate it for once."

"I don't mind all the attention on you at all. I'm not one of those actresses who dream of hoggin' all the limelight. You can have it, honestly. Well, give me a little when my movie releases, but other than that, all yours," she said before a sigh escaped her.

I gave her hand a squeeze when we pulled up in front of a tiny house I couldn't imagine hosting a party.

By the time we got into the house, each room packed with people, I could see why my men had acted as they had. I couldn’t imagine it was the most comfortable of situations for men tasked with keeping Kylie and me safe.

"I'm sorry. Apparently, everyone I went to high school with is suddenly my best friend.”

"If I can't apologize, then neither can you," Liam whispered back in my ear. "When you signed on the dotted line to be hitched to a rock star, this is life."

"You two get to see each other all the time. Share the wealth," a guy said who walked to where we sat in the tiny room.

"Sorry," Kylie said to him. "Liam, this is John. He was David's best friend back in the day."

Hearing David’s name struck me like a knife. Everyone had some relation to David—best friend, good friend, related to, on the football team with, ran track with, hell even he'd sat by me in math class had been used.

"I assume Kylie told you all about David. He was a hell of a guy."

"Yes, she has, and so I've heard," I said.

"Can't be jealous of a ghost, man," a semi-drunk John lectured.

"I'm not. But, I am concerned for her. I know how hard it was for Kylie to come tonight. It’s hard for her to be here again without him."

"I get that," John said as he stepped back to let the next person in.

Her look bounced from I don't know what to say to thankful to pissed and back again. I decided to keep my thoughts to myself for the rest of the evening.

By the time we'd greeted everyone once, we settled in surrounded by Kylie’s friends Mary Ann, John, Danielle, and Mitch, and whoever they brought by their sides. Mary Ann had been married the longest, and this being her house, she and her husband took front and center.

"So, I have to ask," Mitch started, "That ex of yours is some piece of work. Was dating someone like that all an act or what?."

"Honestly, it’s hard even to remember why we got together in the first place," I stated, voice gruff, words clipped short.

"And now you've found your true love in our Kylie? You better be good to her, dude."

"So I've been told by everyone I met," I retorted.

Figuring she wanted to change the tone of the conversation, MaryAnn interjected, "You should have seen Kylie when she was young, Liam. In high school, all she could talk about was your dad. I watched his films with her so many weekends I lost count."

"Poor guy has heard that, too," Kylie put out there.

"David got the worst of it, and he couldn't stand the movies. He only watched them for Kylie," John put in.

"What? He didn't like them? He never told me!" she stated in what I could only assume was a genuine act of surprise as she'd gone a bit ashen.

"A guy does what a guy has to do for the girl he loves," MaryAnn's husband Pete added to the conversation.

"Seriously, and David was so into you, Kylie," John kept on. "Hell, that boy did everything he thought might impress you. Remember the time he went out for the school play?"

"He was hilarious. Couldn't act worth a shit, but he'd bargained with the drama coach to get a small role to be there with you. He babysat his kids every weekend for a month after that."

"No, I thought his mother got him into that babysitting thing?" she said, "How could I not have known all of this?"

"You were too gullible, Kylie. Too much in love," John laughed.

At that, I got up and excused myself to go to the bathroom, making the whole room of people shift and sway to give me and a bodyguard, who followed me, space. In the tiny powder room barely big enough for a body, I could hear the conversation on the other side of the door.

With my hands pressed to the door, I leaned against it, keeping the crowds back as I released a pent-up breath. Turning, I rested my head against the door rather than slam it like I wanted to. An odd shade of green, something akin to avocado, had touched everything from the toilet and sink to the curtains and towels. I touched the mirror that served as a door over a shit load of pill bottles and cream tubes on the rusting shelves. I tried to close it over the mess, but it refused to stay, and I had to reel in my anger not to slam the thing shut.

Seconds had ticked by like long minutes before someone knocked on the door and asked if anyone was in there. Not sure why the people who'd been occupying the hall couldn't have told them the answer, I shot out my own, then stood my ground, keeping the room for myself for a few more minutes.  

By the time I made my way through the people, back to my place by Kylie, I barely spoke again. The talk continued on subjects irrelevant to me anyway. It had been beyond boring to hear everyone reminisce about old times, but something more seemed to be going on within me, some form of anger bubbling below the surface, keeping my skin flushed to add to the heat of all the bodies within such a small space. I remained polite but only gave short answers when spoken to.

To Kylie's few public displays of affection, I couldn't even bring myself to respond as I usually did. Rather, I shut down, closed myself off, distanced myself, unable to make the change necessary to be the fake fiancé she needed me to be. Her friends got more drunk, went on and on, until I had enough of catching up and called it a night.

By the time we got in the car, I looked out the window, barely grunting in response to her chatter about the evening.

"Is something wrong," she finally asked point-blank.

"I don't know. Maybe I'm just tired. I've never celebrated a holiday like this one. Not that I haven't loved the time with your family, but I don't know, the friends just seemed too much."

"Too much, how?" she prodded.

"I can't say. Just too much. Again, maybe I'm just tired. Cranky. Sorry to ruin your night."

"You didn't ruin anything. I'm just concerned. I've never seen you act like this, and I want to make sure I didn’t do something to upset you."

"You didn’t do anything to upset me. I don't know what's up. I’ll just be happy to get back to your place and get some sleep."

She let it drop, leaving me to fend off any thoughts that tried to piss me off further.