You can’t just step all over a girl nowadays and expect that no one will stop you.”
Pippa makes a frustrated noise. “Seriously, Lars—”
“Okay! Okay.” I take a step back, gripping Pippa’s waist. My gaze meets hers. “I’ll go if you go with me.”
“Yes,” she says, tugging me toward the door of the club. “I’m going with you.”
I let her pull me away with one last glare at the man, who is just now getting to his feet. Then he’s gone, obscured by the dancers and people talking that stand in between me and the wall. Turning toward the doorway, I step in front of her to make a path.
Soon we are out of the bar. I don't stop there on the landing, though. I grab Pippa by the waist and halfway carry her down the stairs, not stopping until we hit the front door. There are a few people who drunkenly watch as I carry my fiancée a little ways, finally putting her down in front of a white sandstone building. I grab her and pin her against the wall, my eyes fiery.
“Fuck that guy,” I grit out.
She looks up at me, her eyes slitted. “I think you showed him who’s in charge,” she says.
I roughly kiss her, forcing my lips down on hers. She sinks against me. Burying her hands in my hair, she opens her mouth to me, letting my tongue slide against hers. When she finally breaks away, pulling back, I can see the desire written in her blue eyes.
“Take me home,” she asks quietly. “Show me just what went through your mind when you saw him try to kiss me.”
I pull away from the wall, grabbing her hand, and rush toward our rented home.
28
Lars
In the late morning, I look at Pippa gathering her things.
“Are you thinking of heading up to the beach?” I ask.
“Err… yes.” She colors, lifting the tote bag that is on her shoulder. “I brought a book and a towel.”
“And sunblock, I hope,” I tease her. “I’ll come with you.”
I feel her gaze slide down my chest. She bites her lip, turns even redder, and then nods. “Okay.”
She turns and starts walking away, leaving me to grab my water and catch up. As we walk, I keep an eye trained on her.
Pippa has never said anything even remotely romantic to me. I mean, we’ve shared our bodies with each other. That’s for sure. But nothing about her feelings.
Certainly nothing about wanting to make our relationship real.
Still, gazes like the one she’s giving me now speak volumes in their own way.
She thinks I’m hot. She thinks I’m funny. She thinks I’m worth knowing.
I just have to find the right moment to pop the question, as it were.
Will you make our fake relationship real, little witch?
I sigh. She casts an eye over me, squeezing my biceps. “Did you run too hard this morning or something? I saw you get up to work out.”
I smirk at her. “I like running. It’s just me time. Besides, I have to keep it tight for you.” I say the last with a wink.
She shakes her head. “You know, you’re lucky you’re hot.”
I grin. She’s not wrong. I am hot. I work my body hard to maintain it.
“So, um…” She ducks her head as we walk, tucking her hair behind her ears. “I’ve been thinking about what I want you to fund. You know, after we… break up.”
My heart speeds up. “Ja?”
“Mmhm. I’ve narrowed it down to three ideas. Tell me what you think.” She ticks off the numbers on her fingers as she goes. “One, I think maybe some kind of newspaper for women my age. Good reporting, a mixture of fun stuff and serious stuff.”
I nod. “That sounds good.”
“I also was thinking about taking a year off, writing a book, and launching myself as a brand.”
I cock my head, thoughtful. “What would you write?”
She blushes. “I guess I would have to figure it out.”
“What’s the third thing?”
“Some sort of publishing house for punk rock and feminist writers. I haven’t really defined that idea very well.”
Blowing out a long stream of breath, I nod slowly. “Cool. I mean… what if I just gave you the money now? We would still carry on the fake engagement and everything. It’s not like you’re about to ghost me.”
Pippa looks at me, surprised. “If that would make you happy, I guess.” She frowns. “You’re still happy with our arrangement, right?”
I shrug. “I guess. We do have the four month mark coming up, creeping