Fake (West Hollywood #1) -Kylie Scott Page 0,67
again.” Then she grabbed her expensive handbag and fled. Thank fuck for that.
And there was too much going on inside of me. A giant upswell of emotion I didn’t know how to handle. It was good and bad and everything in-between. Maybe I was having an anxiety attack. I don’t know. I kind of wanted to try some more scream therapy, to just get it all out, but our neighbors would probably call the cops. So I did the next best thing. I seized an oven mitt off the counter and threw it at his head. Given it was soft and I’d never been much of an athlete, the man wasn’t in any real danger.
In fact, he snatched it out of the air easily. “What was that for?”
“You hesitated. You hesitated so much.”
“Were you really going to leave?” he asked. “Tell the truth.”
“You bet your ass I was.”
His brows rose in surprise. “Huh.”
“We’ve been all over each other the past couple of days and you’re stunned that I wouldn’t just step aside and let another woman move on in?” I screwed up my face. “I am neither that nice nor that understanding, Paddy. Or maybe I’m just not that much of a schmuck.”
Nothing from him.
“Feelings are a real thing.”
“Right.”
“And you need to respect mine.”
“Got it,” he said with all due seriousness. Just as well.
“Oh my God,” said Mei, appearing behind Patrick with her cell in hand. “You’re right, Angie. He’s a freaking mess. It’s like he’s been mauled by a tiger.”
Patrick’s gaze turned questioning.
I grabbed his upper arm to turn him so I could see. Oh, wow. Two distinct sets of bright red grazes ran on either side of his spine. One line embedded in his skin for each of my nails. Holy shit.
“I don’t even remember doing that,” I said, sort of numb.
“You’re a wildwoman, Norah.” Mei smiled and snapped a photo.
When Patrick saw it, his eyes went gratifyingly wide.
“Your horniness and territorial markings have actually saved the day,” she continued. “Turns out an assistant left Angie on less-than-stellar terms and took to the internet early this morning to get his own back. This was done by blabbing to anyone who would listen about you and Paddy being less than genuine. However, a fan followed Paddy on his jog and when he took his shirt off . . . internet gold was made. The photos are going viral as we speak. You are officially the kinky celebrity couple of the week. Not only did you stop the photographer from seeing Liv arrive here, but you validated your sexual relationship in the eyes of the world.”
“By mauling him?” I asked.
“Yes,” said Mei.
“I wonder how many people are slut-shaming me.”
“Not nearly as many as are saluting you for your healthy and indeed natural carnal appetites.” Mei grinned. “Okay, you crazy kids. Keep up the good work.”
I winced. “How mad are you on a scale of one to ten?”
“Why would I be mad?” asked Patrick with a smirk.
“I’ve probably scarred you.”
“You haven’t scarred me. Relax.” He reached out, fingers digging into the stiff and sore muscles in the back of my neck. What a man. “Now everyone knows I give you good dick.”
Heat rushed to my face and I laughed.
He drew me in closer, wrapping his arms around me while maintaining the massage. Which was right and good and very necessary. “I’m sorry I hesitated. Guess it was just a surprise, her being here and everything.”
“Hmm.”
“Are you sniffing me?”
I happy sighed. “Yes.”
“Right. Like I was saying, we might have started out questionably, but we’re not fake now,” he said. “Okay?”
I nodded and slipped my arms around his middle.
“No idea where we’re headed, but I’m a hundred percent along for the ride.”
“Thank you,” I said, sniffing some more. “Me too.”
“Are you crying or still smelling me?”
I pressed my cheek against his chest and took a deep breath. “A bit of both.”
“Why are you crying?” he asked, holding me tighter.
“You chose me. I wasn’t sure you would. Also, that was a very stressful situation to find myself in before finishing a first cup of coffee.”
“Why wouldn’t I choose you?” he asked, voice bewildered. Which I kind of adored him for.
“Because she’s Liv Anders and I’m not.”
“You think I’m still hung up on her?”
I thought it over. “I honestly wasn’t sure. But I guess you’re not.”
“What I felt for Liv . . .”
“Go on,” I said.
He groaned. “Let’s just say that what I felt for Liv was a lot less than I feel for you.