“You’re ridiculous,” Alice said, feeling drowsy and content as she watched Griffin move around the bedroom.

He stopped in the middle of pulling his pants up and turned toward the bed where she still lay curled up under the sheets. “What?” He’d just come out of the shower, and his skin was glistening and so perfect it was unreal.

Alice lifted her arm, gesturing from his head to his feet. “All of this. No one should be this hot. I’m filing a complaint.”

Griffin broke into a grin, yanked his pants up, and came over to the bed, stooping to kiss her. “I could let myself get fat again if it bothers you. Quit waxing and getting spray tans and expensive haircuts.”

She caressed his nonexistent love handles. “You were never fat, but I wouldn’t care if you were or if you never did any of that stuff again. You’d still be gorgeous, as far as I’m concerned.”

“If only my agent or literally anyone else in the world agreed with you.”

Alice’s fingers inadvertently grazed a ticklish spot, and he backed away from the bed, shaking a scolding finger at her.

“What time is it?” she asked as he turned his back to flip through the shirts in his closet.

“After eleven.”

She sat up and rubbed her eyes. Her hair probably looked like something you’d pull out of the shower drain, but somehow she didn’t mind Griffin seeing her like that. He was the one who’d messed it up, after all. “I can’t believe I slept so late.”

“You were out like a coma patient. I got up and took Taco outside, made a smoothie, showered, and you hadn’t so much as shifted in your sleep. I almost called 911, but you were still breathing so I figured you were fine.”

“Someone wore me out last night.”

A few hours after dozing off the first time, she’d awakened to the sensation of Griffin kissing her neck, and they’d had another round of slightly more languid, but no less satisfying sex. Alice felt like she’d run a marathon. Or what she imagined it must feel like, since she wasn’t a runner and wouldn’t be able to run a marathon even if she was being chased by a zombie horde. Perhaps she should consider taking up running? If she was going to be having sex with Griffin on a regular basis, some more cardiovascular endurance might come in handy.

“Which shirt should I wear?” He turned around, holding up two button-downs, one with gray stripes and the other with blue checks on it.

“Wear to what?”

“I’ve got that brunch with Kimberleigh. Remember? I told you about it last night over dinner.”

Alice felt herself go cold. “You’re still doing that?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re not breaking up with her?”

He dropped his arms, letting the shirts trail on the floor. “We’re not together. You know that.”

“But everyone thinks you are. Which makes me the other woman.”

“Only if they find out about you. Which they won’t.”

She swallowed around the giant lump in the back of her throat. “Right.”

He shoved the striped shirt back into the closet and pulled the checked one off the hanger. “It’s kind of perfect, if you think about it.”

“How is you publicly dating another woman while sleeping with me perfect?” Alice asked as she watched him slide the shirt over his shoulders.

“I’m not dating her.” Griffin turned back to face her, straightening the collar of his shirt. “Everyone just thinks I am, which is the perfect cover. This way, we can keep us to ourselves.”

“Why do we have to keep it to ourselves?”

“Because going public will make everything a million times worse.”

For who? Alice wondered.

Griffin finished buttoning his shirt and came over to sit on the edge of the bed. “Trust me. The last thing you want is to be publicly connected to me.” He reached for her hand and entwined their fingers. “The paps will follow you, the entertainment press will dig into every detail of your life, and a bunch of strangers who’ve never met you will tear you apart on the internet, criticizing everything you say or do.”

Alice nodded numbly. She knew all that was true. It wasn’t like she thought it would be pleasant, but she was willing to put up with it if the reward was having Griffin in her life.

He cupped her jaw and pulled her toward him for a kiss. “If everyone thinks I’m dating Kimberleigh, they’ll leave you alone.” His thumb caressed her cheek. “We can be together on our terms.”

It didn’t sound to Alice like her terms. It sounded like Griffin’s terms, and his publicist’s, and Kimberleigh’s. It sounded like what she wanted fell somewhere much farther down the priority list.

“I’ve got to go,” he said regretfully. “Please tell me you’re okay with this.”

Alice reminded herself how ashamed and upset he’d been about the Kimbergriff arrangement in the first place. He was only doing this because he believed it was necessary to keep the movie from flopping and damaging his career.

Griffin needed this, which meant he needed her to go along with it.

“It’s fine,” she said, mustering a smile for him. “Go.”

He kissed her again and pressed his forehead against hers. “I’ll be back in a couple hours, and then we’ll have the whole day together. Think about what you want to do, okay?”

Their noses rubbed when Alice nodded her assent. Griffin kissed her forehead and stood up, smoothing out his shirt. “How do I look? There’s going to be photographers there.”

“Gorgeous.” She gave him an encouraging smile despite the sour taste in her mouth.

“Sorry I’m late,” Griffin said when Kimberleigh opened the door of her Brentwood home.

“Whatever.” She stepped outside and locked the door behind her. “The paps will be more eager if they have to wait for it.”

She was dressed more softly than he was used to seeing her, in a loose flowered dress and light pink lipstick, with her hair carefully arranged in an elaborate “messy” bun. The perfect low-key celebrity photo op brunch attire. Although she hadn’t chucked her trademark heels, he noted as she teetered over to his Range Rover. Kimberleigh was only five-foot-four, so the heels helped even out the six-inch height difference between them.

He offered his hand to help her into the car, waiting until she’d artfully arranged herself inside before walking around to slide behind the wheel. When he started the engine, the Drake album he’d been listening to on the way over blasted out of the speakers.

“Sorry,” Griffin said as he thumbed the volume down to a more reasonable level.

Kimberleigh rolled her eyes and plucked her phone from her handbag.

That was the extent of their conversation on the half-hour drive to their noon reservation at Taste on Melrose. Griffin didn’t care. He was still riding the high from his night with Alice, and Kimberleigh’s frostiness couldn’t touch him today. In a couple hours, this annoying little venture would be over, and he would be on his way back home to spend the whole rest of the day with Alice. He couldn’t wait.

When they stopped at a light a few intersections away from the restaurant, Griffin’s eyes drifted over to Kimberleigh. She was still glued to her phone, and he wondered how their date was going to look if they couldn’t even make eye contact, much less carry on a conversation.

“We’re gonna have to actually talk in the restaurant,” he said to her. “We’re supposed to be in the throes of new love, not one of those old married couples who sit in silence across the table from one another because they’ve run out of things to say.”

“I’m aware of my role,” Kimberleigh said without looking away from whatever was so engrossing on her phone.

“Are you mad about something?” Griffin asked, frowning. “You seem pissier than usual.”

“No.”

“Okay.” He shrugged and drove on as the light changed.

He heard her let out an annoyed sigh. “I’m just not thrilled about giving up my Sunday for this.” When he glanced at her again, she was staring out the window.

“Well, that makes two of us,” he said, clenching his fist around the steering wheel. He supposed it was some consolation that he wasn’t alone in his misery.

As soon as they pulled up to the valet stand, Kimberleigh’s whole attitude changed, like an invisible director had called out “action.” Suddenly, she was smiling and warm, looking into Griffin’s eyes and clinging to his arm as she pretended to shy away from the attention they’d attracted.

There were at least two photographers loitering across the street. Griffin made sure they got plenty of good shots as he led Kimberleigh into the restaurant.

They were seated on the patio, as arranged, so they could be photographed throughout the meal. Griffin wasn’t thrilled about having his picture snapped while he was eating, but that was the job. He ordered the protein scramble, and Kimberleigh asked for a fruit cup and plain egg white omelet to go with the bottle of prosecco she’d requested.

The business of reading menus and ordering had occupied their first few minutes ably, but now that the waiter was gone and they had their drinks, the pressure was on to make this look good.

Griffin needn’t have worried. Kimberleigh immediately launched into a bubbly monologue about some ridiculous exercise her trainer had tried to get her to do. Griffin affected his best listening face, nodding along and laughing at the appropriate moments.

“Your turn,” Kimberleigh said, leaning back with her champagne flute when she’d reached the end of her anecdote.

He countered with a story about his own trainer, and the time he’d convinced Griffin to try parkour with hilarious and painful results. Kimberleigh’s tinkly laugh rose above the din of conversation around them, and Griffin pretended not to notice when some of their fellow diners not-so-sneakily used their phones to take photos of them. The whole thing felt a little like being a zoo animal, if zoo animals actually cared whether they were seen scratching their junk or dribbling food down their chins.

“See?” Kimberleigh said when he’d finished his story. “It’s not hard, is it?”

Griffin reached for his prosecco. “I take it you’ve done this before?”

“Uh, yeah. So many times.”

As he sipped his drink, Griffin thought about all the men Kimberleigh had been romantically linked with in the press. “Were any of your relationships real?” he asked, lowering his voice.

She laughed. “Only the ones you never heard about.”

“Is it hard? Keeping your love life under the radar?”

Her green eyes darkened, belying the pleasant smile she kept fixed in place. “Everything’s hard. But it’s easier to watch the press and your fans tear apart someone you don’t care about than someone you do. Believe me.”

A tremor of unease traveled down Griffin’s back, and he swallowed another mouthful of prosecco.

Alice would be his first attempt at a real relationship since his Troublemakers debut and the accelerated level of fame that had come with it. The increased public scrutiny wasn’t the only reason he’d avoided letting anyone into his life, but it was certainly a factor. He realized, as he sat in a restaurant having his picture taken with one of the most popular young film actresses in the world, that he really didn’t have any idea how to navigate all of this. How to protect Alice or himself.

The waiter brought their food and topped off their champagne flutes before retreating again. Grateful for the distraction, Griffin set himself to the task of eating his scramble without dripping ranchero sauce down the front of his shirt.

“Whatever happened with that girl?” Kimberleigh asked unexpectedly. “Arleen?”

“Alice.” He stabbed a forkful of shredded chicken and shoved it into his mouth.

“Right. Did you kids ever get together?”

Griffin glanced at Kimberleigh, then back down at his plate when he felt his cheeks start to heat. “Yeah, actually.”

“Really? Are you still…”

He swallowed and met her gaze across the table. “Yes.”

She lifted her glass in salute. “Well! Look at you, Harry Potter, dating a muggle.”

“Very funny.”

Kimberleigh leaned forward, resting her forearms on the table. “Are you sure you know what you’re getting into, dating a normal? What you’re getting her into? Does she?”

Griffin shrugged. “I guess we’ll find out.” He shoveled another bite of chicken in his mouth. It tasted like paper, but he couldn’t tell if the fault lay with the restaurant or his mood.

“I hope it works out for you,” Kimberleigh said in a slightly softer voice. “I really do.”

He reached across the table and speared a cube of pineapple off her plate, which she’d yet to touch. “Got any tips?”

She laughed and took a long swig of prosecco. “I’m the last person you should ask for advice.”

“Why?”

“Because I’ve never had a relationship that didn’t crash and burn—other than the fake ones, of course.”

“I’m sorry,” Griffin said.

Kimberleigh turned her face to the street, affecting a synthetic smile as she gazed at the paparazzi camped on the opposite sidewalk. “It’s a hard world we’ve chosen for ourselves, sweetie. Make sure you keep your armor on.”

“I’m back!” Griffin shouted as he let himself in the front door.

The only greeting he received was from the dog. After stooping to give Taco a scratch, he made his way into the living room and found Alice ensconced on the couch with her laptop. She looked up as he came toward her. “How was your brunch?”

“Unpleasant.” He bent to kiss her, but she stopped him with a hand on his chest. “What?”

Her lips pressed into a thin line. “You’ve got lipstick around your mouth.”

“Shit. Sorry. I thought I’d gotten it all.” He scrubbed his lips with the back of his hand. “We did a fake kiss for the cameras as we waited for the car.”

“I know.” Alice turned her laptop so he could see it.

On the screen was a slightly blurry photo of him kissing Kimberleigh outside Taste. His hand rested on the back of her neck, and both her arms were wound around his waist. He was impressed by how cozy they looked, given how decidedly not cozy they were. Sabrina would be pleased at least.

“That was fast,” he said. “I didn’t think it’d hit the gossip sites until tomorrow.”

“It hasn’t.” Alice took the laptop back and closed the photo. “Some people who were at the restaurant posted to social media. It’s all over both your mentions.”

Griffin grinned. “Been Twitter-stalking me?”

Alice’s gaze stayed fixed on her laptop screen. “If you’re wondering, the response is mostly positive. People seem pretty psyched about Kimbergriff.”

He rolled his eyes at the stupid name. “Well, at least I’m not doing all this for nothing.” When Alice continued to stare at her laptop, he nudged her leg with his. “Are you too grossed out to kiss me now? Am I damaged goods?”

She looked up at him and offered a small smile, finally. “No, of course not.”

Griffin sank onto the couch next to her, moved her laptop aside, and took her face in both his hands. “I only ever want to have brunch with you. You know that, right? This is just work.”

Alice nodded, and he kissed her, pouring into it exactly how much he’d missed her. He felt her start to relax into him, then she stiffened again, pulling away.

“Is that her perfume?”

Horrified, Griffin sniffed his shirt. Ugh. He pushed himself to his feet. “I’m gonna go take a Silkwood shower and wash away every molecule of that fucking brunch. I’ll be right back.”

He went straight to the shower and washed himself from head to toe—twice.

When he made his way back to the living room ten minutes later, Alice was staring at her laptop again. Griffin leaned against the doorway and posed, wearing only a towel slung low around his hips. “Hey.”

She looked up and smiled, just like he’d hoped she would.

He waggled his eyebrows suggestively. “Permission to approach?”

Alice’s teeth bit down on her lower lip, and his dick pulsed in response. “I don’t know. Are you sure you didn’t miss a spot?” She twirled her index finger in the air. “Spin.”

Griffin strutted to the center of the room like a runway model and slowly spun around, giving her an eyeful of him from every angle. “What do you think?”

The corner of her mouth twitched. “Not bad.”

“Not bad? That’s all I get?”

She shut her laptop and set it on the coffee table. “Maybe I need a closer look.”

That was more like it. He stood directly in front of her.

“Lose the towel,” she ordered.

He did, giving it a flourish before chucking it over his shoulder.

Her gaze traveled up and down his body appraisingly, like a judge evaluating a show horse. Her smile grew wider. “Very nice.”

Griffin dropped to his knees in front of her. Alice locked eyes with him as he fit his hips between her legs and leaned forward to kiss her. It was supposed to be a slow, seductive kiss, but the taste of her mouth stoked his hunger and short-circuited his brain. All he could think about was how much he wanted her. He devoured her with hungry strokes of his tongue, curling his hand into her hair as her fingernails scraped down his chest.

When her hips arched against him, he reached down to palm her through her cutoff jeans shorts. God, those fucking shorts. He loved the way they showed off her thighs and the curve of her ass. His fingers dipped inside the leg opening, exactly the way he’d fantasized about a hundred times before, and he stroked her through her underwear. “Fuck,” he said when he realized how wet she was already.

Alice bucked her hips against him, as eager for him as he was for her, and he unfastened her shorts. He’d been in too much of a hurry last night, too eager to have her, but this time as he stripped off her clothes, he did it slowly, noticing everything. The single freckle near her belly button. How pale her skin looked in the sunlight pouring through the patio door. The way she whimpered in the back of her throat when he stroked her.

He ran his hands down her inner thighs to spread her wider as he bent his face to her slippery folds. Breathing deep, he flicked his tongue against her, smiling at the way she squirmed in frustration at the light touch. A closed-mouth kiss followed, then another, light and teasing.

When it seemed like she couldn’t stand the anticipation anymore, he buried his face in her and hummed with pleasure. So soft, so warm, so delicious. He reached up to squeeze her breast with one hand, pinching her nipple gently while his other hand slid under her hips to lift them for better access. His tongue stroked her, eagerly lapping at her juices, then his lips closed around her clitoris and he sucked, drawing a moan of ecstasy from her.

He wanted to spend the rest of the day making her moan like this. Just exactly like she’d moaned beneath him last night. There were so many things he wanted to do to her, so many ways he wanted to touch her.

But even more than that, he wanted to make her smile. To make her laugh. To spend a whole day with her, just the two of them. Hold her in his arms. Cook for her. Watch TV with her. Even just sit near her while she worked on her computer.

He wanted her here. In his house. In his life. His Alice.