The One Who’s Too Perfect

“Close your eyes,” I whispered.

Her head snapped up like I’d suggested she sign over her 401(k). “Excuse me?”

“Close your eyes,” I repeated, my voice dropping to something lower, smoother. A challenge wrapped in a suggestion. “Let’s try something.”

She narrowed her eyes and uncrossed her legs, each of her hands opening and grasping the tops of her thighs. “If this is some Jedi mind trick to get me to fall for you, I should warn you. I’m immune to your charms.”

“Oh, really?” I cocked an eyebrow, letting my gaze deliberately drop to her lips before dragging back up to meet her stare. “And yet, here you are. In my limo. Drinking my champagne. About to officially be my girlfriend.”

She huffed, the flicker of amusement in her eyes. “I wouldn’t phrase it quite like that.”

“Wouldn’t you?” I smirked, shifting closer, letting my leg sit against hers. The sheer fabric of the dress she’d thrown over her swim suit was soft, but her body? Pure tension, like she was wound tight and ready to spring. I had the distinct feeling that if I pushed too hard, she’d explode. But if I played my cards right? Well. Then things might get interesting.

I still had one arm draped behind her, lazy but intentional, fingers grazing the leather. With my other hand, I held out my palm, coaxing with a smirk. “C’mon. Humor me.”

Lizzy crossed her arms, looking at me like I’d just asked her to skydive without a parachute. “I don’t do blind trust.”

“You do now. With me.” I wiggled my fingers. “C’mon, Lizzy. Where’s that adventurous spirit I saw earlier when you jumped into a fake relationship in front of half the sports entertainment industry?”

She stared at me for a long second, her lips pressing together like she was trying to decide whether this was a terrible idea. The silence stretched, thick with something unspoken, something buzzing just beneath the surface.

Then, with a dramatic sigh, she rolled her eyes and placed both of her hands in my open hand.

Compared to hers, my hand was quite large. Her touch was warm, her fingers delicate but strong, like she wasn’t used to letting anyone take the lead. I hoped that maybe she liked the fact that I wasn’t giving her much of a choice.

I let my thumb softly brush over her knuckles. Slow and deliberate. Her breath hitched. It was barely perceptible, but I caught it.

“See?” I murmured, my voice dipping just a little lower. “That wasn’t so hard.”

She didn’t pull away. And I wasn’t about to let her let go. Not yet.

I guided our joined hands to rest on her lap and felt the moment her body relaxed, even just a fraction.

“Trust me,” I said quietly.

She let out a nervous laugh, but it was different from before. Softer. “That’s asking a lot.”

“Maybe,” I said, remaining steady in my seat.

She closed her eyes. And for a second, I just watched her. The way her lashes fanned against her cheeks, the way her lips parted slightly like she was on the verge of saying something but changed her mind. She had no idea how breathtaking she looked in that moment, sitting completely still, letting her guard slip just enough to play along. And damn, if I wasn’t already starting to like the way she looked when she stopped overthinking and just let herself be.

“Alright,” I said, keeping my voice even. “Let’s talk about what this arrangement actually looks like.”