Reign A Romance Anthology - Nina Levine Page 0,310

as silence fills the room.

“You’ll take Dylan to her reunion, won’t you?” Ariel coos. This girl.

“I’m not going,” I jump in before he even has time to think about answering. Cole doesn’t need to feel pressured into taking me. I have no desire to go anyway. “Can we drop the subject?” I scoot around Mom and take the warm apple pie from the oven. “Pie anyone?” I grin.

Cole’s eyes dance from me to the pie, to Mom, then back to me. “I’d be happy to take her. What weekend is it?”

Mom’s smile brightens, and she shuffles from the room, returning seconds later with the invitation in her hand. “It’s this coming weekend. Oh, I didn’t realize I’d held onto this for that long. It kept skipping my mind at our dinners.”

“Yeah, because you’re always too focused on me finding a husband,” I respond dryly. I spin to Cole who has somehow found his way beside me. “And no, I’m not going to the reunion. Thanks for the offer, though.”

“Come on, Dylan. Go. Rub your success in their faces,” Ariel says.

“I’m sure there are those who are equally successful.”

“Yes, but they don’t have Cole Carter hanging off their arm now, do they?”

What is it with her and this man?

I grab a knife and cut up the pie then begin plating. Jas follows through with a squirt of cream next to each piece.

“Anyway, changing the subject, Mom makes the best apple pie.” I take a plate and hand it to Cole. “Enjoy.”

“Oh, I will.” He grins.

I swear he’s mocking me, and the kiss flashes in my mind. Solidly imprinted in my mind is his taste on my lips.

I want more of him.

That’s probably inappropriate, considering the situation.

The next hour flies by, and before I know it, I’m yawning. All this lying is tiring.

Cole’s hand rubs my leg. “You ready to go, babe?” My heart skips a beat. He’s rather good at this pretend-boyfriend thing. Thankfully, it’s only one night.

“Umm…yeah. Mom, we’re going to head out.”

Mom shakes her head. “You’re not getting on the back of that bike,” she demands and glares at Cole. “My daughter won’t be getting on there with you.”

“You can trust me with her safety. I’ll even go under the speed limit if that will help you feel at ease.”

He’s good, the way his smooth voice simmers down Mom’s strong demands.

A small smile even plays on her lips, and she points a finger at him, issuing another order. “Under the limit.”

Cole simply nods and places his hand over his chest. “You have my word she’ll be kept safe.”

Ariel’s grin is from ear to ear. I can only imagine what she’s thinking. She’s going to be the one who causes us all the problems. She’s yet to experience the kind of heartbreak Jas and I have experienced, but her turn will come.

“Who says I want to go on the back of a bike?” I declare, rising from my seat. “Last time, you weren’t very nice.” The memory of him laughing at me as I sat on the sidewalk hurt my pride.

He stands and takes my hand. “I’ve got you.” His dark eyes burrow right into the part of my soul that I’ve kept under lock and key.

Nope. Don’t fall for the bad boy. They’re evil.

“Just do it, Dylan. You only live once,” Ariel says.

“Yeah, exactly. I only live once. I don’t want to die on the back of a motorbike,” I retort.

She rolls her eyes in response.

“If at any time you feel uncomfortable, you can let me know, and I’ll pull over and order you an Uber myself,” Cole assures me.

I sigh. “Fine. Let’s get this over with.”

Everyone follows us outside, and now that I have an audience, I don’t want a repeat of what happened last time I tried to climb on the back of his bike. Please let me get this right.

Cole hands me the spare helmet, and I take it in my shaky hands and place it over my head. My heart pounds against my ribcage so hard it makes me feel faint. Honestly, I can’t believe I’m doing this.

“You alright?” Cole reaches for my hand, his voice low.

“I may vomit. I’m so nervous.”

He laughs, and I say, “Yeah, get that out of your system now, or you’ll be single.”

Cole steps closer and does up my strap. “Isn’t this all pretend anyway? So, technically, we’re both still single.”

He’s right.

We’re not a real couple, I remind myself.

“I need your address.”

I quietly rattle off my address. He climbs on