Camden helped guide Sutton up the front walk to her house. She wasn’t drunk enough to be a stumbling mess, not even close, but he used her imbibing at dinner as an excuse to keep her close and hold her for as long as possible.

When this whole thing started, Camden had been convinced it was going to be one of the most miserable times in his life. Now… well, now their second date was coming to an end, and the last thing he wanted was for it to be over.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a date where he felt normal, comfortable enough to be himself without the stresses that came with all the fame and money. Sutton gave that back to him, and along with all the other confusing feelings he was starting to develop for the enigmatic woman, appreciation rested firmly at the top of the pile.

“I had a lot of fun tonight,” she said once they reached her front door. “Starting over was a brilliant idea. You’re really easy to talk to, Camden Knight.”

“Feeling’s mutual, Sutton Briar,” he murmured, reaching up to tuck a strand of that silky hair behind her ear.

She looked up at him with a dreamy gaze and lazy smile, one hand holding her keys while the other landed on his chest. He moved unconsciously, leaning closer when a flash of light from the corner of his eye suddenly went off.

Sutton’s eyes went big for a moment before she mumbled, “Shit,” and fisted the fabric of his shirt, jerking him down so their lips collided. His synapses immediately misfired, and all he could think was more. Give me more.

Snaking his arms around her, he palmed her ass and used the hold to pull her tighter against him. A sweet, delicious moan drifted from her throat down his, and every muscle in his body strained as he fought for control when all he wanted to do was slam her against the goddamn front door and bury his cock inside her.

She pulled away too soon for his liking. His fingers tangled in her hair to pull her back when her next words turned him to stone. “Okay. I think he’s gone now.”

“What?”

“There was a dude camping out behind the bushes over there, snapping pictures.”

For a second he’d forgotten that it wasn’t real. Being reminded of that was like a red-hot fire poker being shoved into his gut. Self-preservation kicked in, and he quickly dropped his arms to the side and took a step back. “You need to get inside, cutie. It’s getting late.”

She pulled her gaze from the bushes where that fucker of a photographer had been lurking and gazed up at him with a glassy look that had nothing to do with the wine. And he knew right then that she’d been just as lost in that kiss as he had. She might have started it for the sake of a camera, but she’d let it go on as long as it had because she wanted it.

Turning and shoving her key into the deadbolt, she twisted and the door unlocked with a resounding click. But before she opened it and stepped inside, she looked back at him from over her shoulder. “Thank you for making tonight so easy. Fake or not, that was the best date I’ve ever had.”

Then she stepped over the threshold and closed the door, leaving him reeling.

* * *

Sutton

It felt like someone had cracked open my skull and was currently scrambling my brain like an egg. The sunlight streaming through my bedroom window was slowly melting my eyeballs into goop, and the sad part was they weren’t even open. Such was the intensity of my hangover—I didn’t have to see, hear, or smell anything for my eyes, brain, and stomach to rebel against me.

“God,” I groaned into the otherwise silent room. “If you have even the slightest affection for me, take me now. I beg you.”

“Wow, babe. Gotta say, hungover is not a good look on you.”

At the sound of my sister’s voice I shot up with a startled yelp that sent a bolt of pain ricocheting through my skull. “Jeez, Brina! What the hell? I’m taking your key away.”

“Oh quit your bellyaching,” she said, tossing me the silk robe hanging behind my bathroom door.

Somehow I managed to get my arms through the sleeves, even though my limbs felt like they were weighted down with cinder blocks. “Why are you here?” I grumbled as I glared at Sabrina.

“Saw your picture online this morning and wanted the scoop on your date last night.”

Flopping back against my pillows, I stared up at the ceiling and tried to calm my rioting stomach. I’d never forgive myself if I hurled all over my pretty cream and mint green duvet cover.

“Come on,” Sabrina continued, giving my foot a smack. “I’m making you a hangover cure breakfast. Clean yourself up and meet me in the kitchen in ten.”

“Blech. No food!”

“It’ll soak up whatever you drank last night. Trust me, you’ll feel better after you eat.”

She skipped out of my room with way too much enthusiasm for eight on a Saturday morning, and I begrudgingly forced myself from the comforts of my bed and headed into the bathroom to do as she’d ordered.

I let out another shriek of fright as soon as I got a good look at myself in the mirror.

I looked like I’d just dug myself out of a grave after about a week of rotting in the ground. The mascara and eyeliner from the night before were streaked halfway down my cheeks, and my hair was matted flat to one side of my head while the other was a ratty mess. If it were Halloween, all I’d need to be the perfect corpse bride was a wedding dress.

Pulling a brush through all the knots in my hair, I threw it up in a top knot, then scrubbed my face clean before moisturizing and scouring my teeth for a full five minutes to get the taste of dead rodent out of my mouth.

I dressed in my light heather gray joggers with a matching racer back tank with stripes of the same gray and pale blue. When I stepped back into my room, my face fell into a severe frown as I stared longingly at my bed—my warm, comfy, perfect bed.

When I first bought my house, I’d furnished the entire thing within the first weekend. With the exception of my bedroom.

I’d taken painstaking care to pick the absolute perfect furniture for my bedroom. It was my haven. In a house that was all mine, that I’d worked so hard to have, my bedroom was my place. It was me. Everything from my cream upholstered headboard with aged brass buttons to the squat mint green lamp bases and weathered cherry nightstands screamed take a load off. And if the bed wasn’t inviting enough, the small sitting area I’d created in the big bay window, with my deep green, velvet Chesterfield chair and matching ottoman, called for you to come and kick your feet up with a good book, which was exactly what I did.

I wished I could climb back beneath my fluffy down comforter instead of having to deal with my pain-in-the-ass sister and answer her million questions in regards to my date the night before. But I knew better than to try. Sabrina was nothing if not persistent. She’d come back and drag me out by my ankles.

With slumped shoulders, I slunk out into the hall and toward the kitchen, the smell of bacon making my nausea even worse. The only thing that perked me up was the huge mug of coffee my sister had waiting on the island for me as soon as I entered.

“Figured you’d need that,” Sabrina said as I plopped down on the stool across the island from where she was at my stove. “Toffee creamer, just how you like it.”

I took a sip and hummed appreciatively, the caffeine goodness warming a path down my throat to my stomach. “Thanks.”

“So,” she dragged out, turning back to the eggs she had frying on the stovetop. Her back might have been to me, but I could hear the smile in her voice clear as day. “How was last night?”

I was mid–eye roll when I suddenly remembered the conversation I’d instigated and pushed with Camden the night before.

“Oh, god!” I cried, slamming my mug down with a heavy thump before dropping my head into my hands.

“What? What happened?”

“Oh, god! I’m such an idiot!”

“Jesus, Sut. What happened?”

I looked up to meet my sister’s freaked-out gaze. “I-I got a little… uh, tipsy, Brina. Oh crap!”

“Based on your hangover this morning, I’d say you were more than just tipsy. But what’s the big deal?” she asked, dropping the wooden spoon into the holder before turning fully to me and placing her palms on the counter. “Getting a little tipsy isn’t the end of the world, babe. I know you’re a stickler for keeping your wits about you, but—”

“I brought up his sex life.”

At my interruption, Sabrina froze solid, her eyes growing wide as saucers.

“I got kinda pushy. And I said….” Just thinking about it made me cringe.

“Said what?” she asked with more curiosity than concern.

“That I….” The nausea returned with force, and I worried that the coffee I’d just drunk was about to make a reappearance. Something told me it wouldn’t be nearly as enjoyable coming up as it had been going down. “That I saw the appeal in how… rough he, um, liked it.”

Sabrina stared for several seconds before dropping her head back and letting loose a hysterical cackle. “Oh my God! That’s fantastic!”

My back went straight. “How is that fantastic?” I squeaked. “It’s humiliating!”

It took her several seconds to get control of her hilarity. Then the bitch asked, “Bet you wish you’d gotten that wax now, huh?”

“You’re not helping,” I growled.

“What do you want me to say?” she asked with a shrug. “It might’ve taken wine to get you talking, but at least you did it honestly. Seriously, little sis, when was the last time you even let a guy close enough to get in there, huh?”

“Camden Knight is not getting in there.”

She took that motherly stance, crossing her arms as one hip cocked out. “And why the hell not? You know what Mom always says. ‘A drunk mouth speaks sober truths.’ You like the idea of what he can give you, so why not go for it?”

“Because….”

I couldn’t finish that thought. Mainly because I wasn’t sure how, and also because I didn’t want to get into the real crux of all my issues. The two lovers I’d had since that night years ago were chosen carefully and meticulously. I knew I’d be safe with them. I knew they weren’t a threat. And most importantly, I’d been the one in control at all times.

I hadn’t been lying when I told Camden I saw the appeal. It had been the god’s honest truth. Even thinking about allowing him to dominate me had gotten me all hot and bothered the night before. But now that I was sober and thinking clearly, I knew there was no way in hell I’d ever have the guts to hand over all my power like that. Never again.

“Have you somehow forgotten the fact that this is Camden Knight we’re talking about? World-famous Camden Knight? The same guy named last year’s Sexiest Man Alive?”

“Of course I haven’t. And you just said it yourself, sexiest man alive.” She waggled her eyebrows. “Who better to get a little freaky with?”

I was going to be sick, and it had nothing to do with the wine from last night. “Come on, Brina. He’s not interested. And even if he were, he’s a celebrity. I wouldn’t touch that with a fifty-foot pole.”

Sabrina’s shoulders lifted with a huge inhale, then she blew it out past her lips. “I just wish you’d open yourself up to someone, babe, let them see how great you are. You deserve happiness.”

Standing from my stool, I rounded the counter and wrapped my arms around my big sister’s waist, laying my head on her shoulder. “I will, Brina. One day. But for right now, I’m happy. I’ve got you, Annabeth, Liam, and Bryan. That’s all I need.”

She hugged me back and rested her head on top of mine. “If you say so. I just want you to take a chance on something, babe. That’s all I’m asking.”

“And I will,” I repeated. “But I don’t think that chance should be taken on Camden Knight. That’s a disaster waiting to happen.”

Fortunately, Sabrina let it go and went back to making me breakfast. And she’d been right. It was the perfect hangover cure.

Unfortunately, she’d planted a seed in my head that refused to stop growing.