CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
MEGAN POINT OF VIEW
Megan POV
Two days had passed in awkward silence and avoidance since my drunken Instagram gaffe.
Lilly, never one to let a juicy scandal lie, had taken it upon herself to “arrange a meet-up” for Chris and I to discuss my memoir.
That witch – she just wanted to force us into the same room to clear the air about… well, everything.
“This is ridiculous,” I grumbled as she barged into my apartment that morning, clothes and makeup cases in hand. “I’m perfectly capable of having a professional discussion.”
Lilly fixed me with a stern look, already unzipping a garment bag to reveal a slinky knit dress.
“Which is precisely why you’re going to look the part, not greet your collaborator looking like you just rolled out of the boxing ring.”
“I do not always wear gym clothes!” I protested halfheartedly as she steered me towards the bedroom.
“Save it, gorgeous,” Lilly sing-songed, somehow already having stripped me down to my underwear with her efficient hands. “You and I both know ‘dressing to impress’ isn’t exactly your forte lately.”
I grumbled more token protests as she slid the clingy ribbed dress over my head and fluffed my hair, but deep down… a part of me welcomed the pregame pampering ritual.
It lent a veneer of normalcy to the whole awkward situation.
“There,” Lilly proclaimed, stepping back to admire her handiwork with a proud grin. “Soft, feminine, yet stylishly casual. The perfect ‘upscale coffee shop’ look.”
I eyed myself in the mirror, tugging self-consciously at the neckline that showcased a hint of decolletage.
The high slit in the skirt revealed toned legs – a move Lilly no doubt calculated. I arched one eyebrow at her.
“Subtle.”
She shrugged unrepentantly. “Just adding a bit of polish to your natural sparkle, babe.” See winked.
“No harm in reminding Writer Boy what he’s been spelunking around inside lately, eh?”
My face flamed scarlet at her brazen insinuation.
“Lilly!” I warned.
She cackled, dancing out of reach from my indignant swat.
“Cool it, stud. I’m just calling it like I see it! Now get out there and make peace with that rugged ghost jockey. Some light flirty banter never hurt anyone…”
With a final wink, she shooed me towards the door before I could splutter out another retort.
I huffed out an irritated breath, automatically smoothing the dress down over my hips.
Well, she had a point – whatever bizarre new dynamic was blooming between Chris and I, it could use a firm reset back to respectful comradery.
And if that meant playing up my more… conventionally feminine assets for once?
Then so be it.
I grabbed my jacket and bag, squaring my shoulders as I headed out into the brisk spring air.
This was just a couple of colleagues meeting in public to address some complicated personal matters with maturity and candor.
“Your ride is here Miss Williams.” The driver address. I nod and entered the car away from Lilly.
The car ride is refreshing, but I’m still nervous!
Nervous of what if Chris bring it up?
…..
A soft rap sounded at the door. My heart leapt.
“Come in,” I called out, aiming for nonchalance.
Lilly poked her head in first. “You decent? No reporters hiding in the shrubbery this time, I swear.”
I rolled my eyes. “Yes, mom, I’m decent.”
She grinned cheekily. “Good. Because your boyfriend’s right behind me.”
Heat flooded my cheeks. “He’s not my…”
The objection died on my lips as Chris stepped through the doorway. Rugged and inscrutable as ever in a simple t-shirt and jeans.
Our eyes met and held for an electric pause.
Lilly cleared her throat pointedly. “I’ll, uh, give you two some privacy.”
She beat a hasty retreat, letting the door swing shut behind her.
Silence stretched between us, heavy with tension and unspoken words.
Get it together, Megan.
“Hey,” I ventured finally. “Thanks for… coming.”
“Of course.” His deep voice washed over me, achingly familiar. “We should talk.”
I nodded jerkily. “Right. About the other night…”
“Don’t worry about it.” Chris held up a placating hand. “You were drunk, upset. I’m just glad I could help.”
His sincere tone only deepened my shame. I swallowed hard.
“Still, I put you in an awkward position. With… everything.”
I waved a hand vaguely. He seemed to understand, expression softening.
“Water under the bridge,” Chris assured me. “I care about you, Megan. As a friend.”
Those final two words landed like a weight. Of course we were just friends – anything else would be highly inappropriate.
Stupid of me to read into things.
I forced a tight smile, ignoring the faint twinge of disappointment.
“I’m glad we’re on the same page. This whole PR mess has been…”
“A nightmare?” He finished wryly. “I can imagine.”
A surprising chuckle escaped me at his understatement. Just like that, the tension eased a fraction.
“So…” I eyed him hesitantly. “What now? Deny everything and clam up?”
Chris considered me for a long moment, expression inscrutable.
Finally, he shrugged – the ghost of a smile playing about his lips.
“Or… we could just roll with it for a while. If you’re comfortable with that.”
My jaw dropped. “You’re kidding.”
“I’m really not.” His gaze was open, sincere. “It might not be the worst idea from a marketing perspective either.”
I stared at him, utterly blindsided. Was he really suggesting…?
“Your call, Megan. But I’m amenable if you are.”
The weight of that possibility hung in the air. Fake dating my ghostwriter? It was ridiculously far-fetched.
And yet… after the other night, could we really go back to how things were before?
My pulse quickened at the thought. Unbidden images of Chris’s taut abdomen, his heated stare as he undressed me…
I swallowed hard, suddenly parched.
Did I want this? The safeguarded part of me railed against the impulsive notion.
But a deeper, long-neglected part thrilled at the idea. At not having to constantly suppress my growing attraction anymore.
Chris watched me patiently, giving no indication of what he preferred. The decision was entirely mine.
Drawing a fortifying breath, I met his gaze head on.
“Okay,” I said at last, surprising myself with the steadiness of my own voice. “Let’s give this ‘us’ thing a shot – for real. See where it leads.”
A slow, secretive smile spread across Chris’s striking features.
“Fair enough,” he murmured in that melted caramel rasp. “Then I guess you’d better start calling me something other than ‘Chris’… girlfriend.”
The charged endearment sparked an unmistakable jolt low in my belly. Sweet heaven, what was I getting myself into?
But as I held his smoldering gaze, I knew there was no going back now.
Not that I had any desire to… boyfriend.
…
“We’re here Miss.” I wake up from the slumber with the drivers voice.
“Oh Lord, I can’t believe I accepted it in my dream! This is all Josh and Lilly fault!” I fumed but smiled at the confused driver before entering the Cafe.
The inviting aroma of freshly brewed coffee and baked treats suffused the trendy cafe as I stepped inside.
I came here early. I hope this end well.
I settled into the plush armchair, nervously smoothing my dress. Okay, breathe. This is just business.
Glancing at my watch, I noted I was five minutes early. Perfect timing to compose myself before –
The cafe door opened. My head whipped around.
It was Chris.
But not the scruffy writer I was expecting. Well, not entirely.
He looked… good. Really good.
Slim-fitted jeans hugged his runner’s build to perfection. A soft henley stretched taut across his chest and shoulders.
Tousled hair just begging for fingers to rake through it. And his brimmed glasses makes him look even hotter!
Hot? What on earth is wrong with me?
How had I never noticed how handsome Chris was before?
He spotted me and made his way over, a crooked smile playing at his lips.
Don’t stare. Don’t be weird.
“Hey,” he greeted, sliding into the opposite chair. “You’re early.”
“Y-Yeah, I…” My voice came out higher than intended. I cleared my throat. “Wanted to make sure I didn’t keep you waiting on the… memoir discussion.”
Ugh, lame coverup. But Chris didn’t seem to notice, reaching for the coffee.
“So, shall we dive right into critiquing my latest draft?” His eyes sparkled with amusement. “Or should I give you a few minutes to, ah… gather yourself first?”
My cheeks flushed hot. He knew exactly the effect he had on me right now.
Pull it together, Williams!
“Memoir first,” I said too quickly. “We can… discuss other matters later. If you want.”
Great, now I was being weird again. But Chris just chuckled, taking a sip.
“Works for me. Though I did have some questions about that Instagram post…”
His tone was light and teasing. Still, anxiety churned in my gut.
This conversation was inevitable. I’d just have to woman up and deal with the fallout.
Or would it be the perfect chance to finally lay my feelings bare?
Would this go well like the dream?