So this is the longest dinner of my life. Tate and I sat in stony silence through the entire appetizer before I decide to at least try to look like we’re having a good time. However, all my questions are met with silence, and all my attempts at getting a conversation going hit a dead end. I give up halfway through our main course, accepting the tense silence for what it is…

I can’t stand my fake boyfriend and he can’t stand me.

We’re a joke, and we’re not fooling anyone. We’re a far cry from the happily-in-love couple we’re supposed to be portraying, but I don’t care anymore. I’ve had about enough of Tate Gunner after the stunt he pulled. How dare he force a kiss on me like that, and in front of a hundred reporters and fans. I know I’m his girlfriend, but I still have dignity—and personal space.

I look up as Tate drops his fork and knife on his plate. He plants his elbows on the table and stares at me. “Wanna get out of here?”

I glance down at my half-eaten lasagna. “I guess I’m done…”

“Good.” He shoves his plate away and looks around for the waiter.

He’s in a hurry.

“Why? What did you have in mind?”

“I think we both could use a little release.”

I scrunch up my nose. “Ew, I’m not sleeping with you!”

Tate stares at me. “Not what I had in mind.”

“Good.”

“Alright…” He catches the waiter’s eye and motions for the check. “What I meant was a bar or club.”

“Oh, um, I thought Kevin said we should stay away from your old scene.”

“It’s a club, Charlotte, not some rave. It’ll be fine.”

I nibble my lip. “I don’t know…”

“Yeah, I figured.” Tate sits back in his chair and yawns. “You’re too uptight for something like a club.”

“Excuse me?”

“I’m not surprised. Besides, it’s got to hurt.”

I furrow my brow. “What does?”

“That stick up your ass,” he says smugly.

“Hey, I have fun!”

“Really. When was the last time you let loose?”

“Kelley and I go out,” I argue. Thankfully Tate doesn’t ask where, because I doubt bar trivia would count in his book.

“Great, then it’s settled.”

“You’ve lost me.”

“You’re going to show me how Charlotte Laine relaxes.” He smirks at me from across the table. “This is going to be fun.”

The check arrives and he plunks down his black Amex. “I choose the bar, you choose the shots—deal?”

“I…” My words die on my lips. I actually couldn’t remember the last time I went out to a club or really chilled out. My ideal Friday night was Netflix and popcorn. I’m twenty-three going on sixty at this rate.

I shudder. Maybe Tate has a point.

I cross my arms over my chest. “Deal.”

* * *

Tate

Charlotte slams down her shot of tequila, grimaces, and then hits the dance floor. She motions over her shoulder at me. I put down my bourbon and follow slowly, enjoying my view of her tight little ass. I reach out and take her hand, letting her pull me along after her. Soon we’re in the middle of the sweaty throng, pulsating to the heavy beat of the DJ. I had nailed her as a prude, but by the way she’s grinding down to the floor, slapping her knees, then kicking her ass in the air, I had to re-evaluate.

She glances back at me and catches my roving eye. A naughty smile plays on her lips as she moves closer to me, pressing her back into my chest. She tilts her head back and grazes my shoulder. I lean down into her hair and breathe.

Strawberries and cream. So fitting for that golden-red tint.

The beat changes, and Jay-Z’s “New York” comes on. Charlotte throws her hands up in the air and whirls around to face me.

“I love this song!” she cries out. I get a whiff of her perfume as she leans in—citrus and lilies.

Charlotte throws her arms around my neck and hitches one leg over mine, swaying her luscious hips with me. She tilts her head back, closes her eyes, and loses herself in the thick beat. Her inner thigh grinds against my cock, and I stifle a moan.

Damn, that feels good.

As I gaze down at her flushed cheeks and parted lips, I remember for the hundredth time how fucking horrible celibacy is. How am I supposed to keep it in my pants with this vixen grinding away on Little Gunner? It’s not fair, dammit, and it’s growing harder every day—in more ways than one.

I lean down and press my lips to her ear. “Charlotte…” Her eyes flutter open and lock onto mine. “Do you know how sexy you look?”

She blinks at me. “What?”

“You’re devastating,” I murmur. I’ve used this line plenty of times. It has the magical effect of sweeping women off their feet and into my bed faster than I can say “Your place or mine?”

So imagine my surprise when my girlfriend starts laughing. “Ew!” she cries, scrunching up her nose at me.

I frown. “You don’t have to be rude.”

“That so cheesy!” Charlotte steps back and dissolves into giggles. “That’s the worst pickup line I’ve ever heard!”

I glower at her. “It usually has the desired effect.”

“Oh, man.” She takes a deep breath and lets it out. “Phew! I needed that.”

I clench my teeth and turn away, forcing myself back through the horde of people toward the bar. Charlotte trails after me, a laugh or two reaching me over the music. I reach the bar and order another round of shots. I need one for my mood and one for my pride.

Charlotte slides up next to me, perching her elbows against the bar behind her. “Sorry about that,” she says, her eyes sparkling, “but you’ve forgotten our arrangement.”

“And what’s that?” I wave a hundred dollar bill in the air to attract the bartender’s attention.

“We’re never sleeping together.”

“Oh. I remember.”

The bartender appears out of nowhere, and I order two shots of bourbon.

“Good.” She smiles at me and I try to ignore the way it lights up her entire goddamn face. Why did Kevin have to cast my type, again? Was it some Medieval form of torture?

A Calvin Harris song comes on, making Charlotte squeal along with five other drunk women around me. “This is a great one, wanna dance?”

“And get shot down again by you?” I shake my head. “The only shots I’m downing are these,” I say, motioning to the two glasses the bartender plunks down in front of me.

Charlotte rolls her eyes as I throw back a shot. I’m reaching for my second when she darts out her arm and snatches it up. “Hey!” I shout, but it’s already to her lips and tipped down her throat.

She slams it down on the bar and smiles wickedly. “Don’t get too drunk or things might get steamy later…”

She winks at me and then disappears onto the dance floor. I gape after her for a few moments. So my boring girlfriend is actually a sexy tease? Yup. That’s a problem.

I fish out another hundred and wave it over my head.

What’s even worse is that I liked it…

A lot.