Mr. Caldera's Fake Girlfriend

A V

stretches in every direction, glittering against the night like an indifferent audience to my unraveling. I

lo in the low light, her hazel eyes sharp with mischi

y, swirling my stra

nearby strangers like moths to a flame. "Come on,

full of rejections, feels heavier than ever. The realization of not

eases, arching a brow. "

es

r lips curling in a wicked

eyes. "What

a little." She smirks, leaning closer. "The next gu

e on my drink

the worst that could happen? He's pro

ng despite myself. "Vio

grin widening. "I dare yo

ss down with deliberate precision. "Fine," I snap.

triumph, her eyes scanning the r

niverse decides to pl

's his presence that hits like a freight train. Tall, devastatingly polished, and exuding a quiet authority that makes the

cut glass. "Oh my God," she his

ready regretting

onaire. Tech genius. Tabloid gold. Also, notori

ulse kicking into over

he

, he's standing in front of me. His gaze is dark, assessing, and far too intense. I expe

ds low and smooth, the kind that coul

t I don't let it show. "Didn't rea

smile but not quite. "I'

ast him. "So, what brings Manhattan's most eligible b

ipping into something more dan

eye contact. "A bet," I say boldly, feeling reckless. "Apparently, I'm supposed

, the only sign of surpr

quickly, smirking. "Y

e leans closer, his eyes narrowin

riend another round," I quip,

air. Violet is practically vibrating with excitement, her whis

g sharper, almost dangerous. "How

echo, my curiosity p

s, straightening

off guard. "Ar

e impossibly smooth. "Unless

y pride surges again, reckless and stupid. "Fine,

the truths just shy of vulnerability. But wi

ays, swirling

u knew you shouldn't?" I ask, the

rate. "Yes," he says simply, and the weig

kly, desperate to

," he counters, his

how to breathe. The space between us shrinks

heart racing. "Do y

m but the world. His presence is magnetic, suffocating, and when he glances at me, th

uestion," I challenge,

weapon than expression. His eyes linger on mine, unhurried.

ce tonight," he says smoothly, meant on

subtle shift in the room's energy, the stolen glances, the whispers circulating like invisible threads binding

half incredulous. "Y

nt breaking his otherwise stoic mask. "You're

d her voice-or at least a strangled whisper.

y, a little too loud, as if t

going to follow through on that dare," he says, his voice dropping i

ond, I forget how to form coherent w

al it's infuriating. "It's a short ride f

he space between us with enough we

I repeat, disbelief c

ignificant than the weather. "Unless you

e talons. "Sera," she hisses, her voice just

little," I w

t, waiting. He doesn't push, doesn't rush, an

his eyes holding

ch, let's face it, I probably have. This isn't

find myse

the