The car rolled down large, illuminated boulevards I wasn't familiar with. Even as a New York City native, I didn't often get a chance to go as far south as TriBeCa, despite it being so close to SoHo, where LuXe was.

Every street bordered with tall, colorful buildings, decorated with a variation of tiny, barred windows and lofty balconies, and terrace-lined apartment complexes with sky-high views of the city.

We stopped in front of the latter type of building. My jaw collapsed as I gawked at the decadent, awning-covered glass door leading into an extravagant lobby.

This was Leo's TriBeCa residence—a location he hated, because it was where all the celebrities lived, and he despised following trends. But he spent time there when he needed inspiration or isolation. He'd also told me this space was ideal for decked-out parties, because of the view.

The security guard at the door let me in without a flinch. He indicated that I should take the elevator to the top floor. The entire upper story was Leo's, from what he'd informed me, and there'd be another security check once I exited the lift.

Inside the machine, the walls were floor-to-ceiling mirrors. I took advantage of the long ride up—thirty floors—to fix the straps of my sparkly black dress, to make sure the fabric wasn't riding up my ass, and that my bra was secured. I'd settled for strappy black heels with a sparkling silver buckle—another gift from Leo—and a glittery clutch that contained much more in it than one would think. I'd swiped hot pink lipstick over my lips, and deep, smoky colors on my eyelids.

Ready for a high-class party.

Only when the bell dinged, indicating that I'd reached the top, did I realize I hadn't brought a change of clothes, and I had no idea how this party would end.

The doors opened to a wide, circular room with a large potted plant in its middle, a small fountain sprouting up from its soil. A man wearing an all-black suit and touching an earpiece was standing in a corner. He spotted me, nodded, and gestured towards the doorway across from the elevators.

I hesitated, my heels clicking on the marble floors, my head spinning in all directions to take in the golden decor, the glittery flower patterns in the walls, the minimalist paintings to my left and right.

I thought Leo's townhouse was a lot, but this was exquisite.

Once under the doorway, the music reached me. A techno-hip-hop mix played, the tunes coming from my left, where a DJ was busy switching records and jamming to the beat. To my right was a fully stocked bar illuminated by neon lights, and bartenders busy shaking mixed drinks. Two well-dressed ladies seated on the metallic bar stools turned to witness my arrival.

The room grew still as I stood in the threshold. The guests who'd gotten here early watched me enter. Ahead of me were a few steps leading into a living-room style area with an enormous, C-shaped couch, overlooking floor-to-ceiling windows that led out to a terrace. Beyond the terrace, I visualized the city lights, twinkling in tune with my dress.

"Baby," said Leo, coming from a corner behind the bar, his smile wide. He'd worn his signature leather jacket with nothing underneath, and a pair of hot pink leather leggings—coincidentally matching my lipstick. He hustled over and kissed me full on the mouth, pulling me tight against him, as if we hadn't seen each other in days. I responded to his kiss, but usually preferred a bit of a warning before he attack-kissed me. "You made it."

"I would have come sooner if I'd known I'd be making an entrance like this," I whispered in his ear, pretending to nibble at it while scanning the room. A few celebrities were sitting on the couch and swiveled to observe us. The two from the bar were sipping from their drinks, eyebrows raised in curiosity. A couple that had been dancing near the DJ booth had stopped, and were eyeing me from head to toe, nodding in what I prayed was approval.

"I'm sorry," said Leo, guiding me to the massive sofa, helping me sit on a spot away from the others. He lowered beside me and placed a hand on my thigh; his warm touch on my bare skin shocked through me. "But I'm happy you wore this dress. Exactly what I had in mind."

I smiled at him, maintaining appearances, but my heart raced in my chest. "You bought it for me on purpose, didn't you? Knowing full well you'd organize this party and I'd end up wearing it."

He wiggled his eyebrows as he planted another kiss on me; this one quicker, but no less sensual than the first. "Can you blame me for thinking ahead? I have to be on top of my game."

This wasn't the kind of dress to sit in—too tight and too short to be comfortable—so I gestured at the windows. "I don't want to lounge on your couch all night," I said, tipping my chin towards the terrace. "Do you mind if I go check out the view?"

"Ah, the lounging," he raised his voice, "like we did the other night, you mean?" He laughed and leaned in close, his mouth on my ear, his voice vibrating through me. "Pretend like you've been here before, please? I don't want them to think this view is new to you."

I giggled in response and placed a tiny peck on his lips. "I love the lights, you know me, babe." I tried not to wince at how easily babe had come out. We rarely used pet names, since most of the time we were far from earshot, or in places too loud for anyone to overhear us.

He got up and set a hand on the small of my back, guiding me to the window. I held my breath at the spectacular landscape of lit-up buildings and flashing avenues in shades of gold, silver, blue, green, red. I'd had the opportunity to witness many beautiful views in this town, but never had I been in a penthouse at the top of a luxury building like this. Maybe he'd let me go out on the terrace later and get a whiff of the air so high up; away from the waves of fancy perfume that had hit my nostrils the instant I'd entered this room.

He left me there, saying he'd be right back. A couple came up to greet me—two stars who'd broken up months ago, but who now held themselves in a way that showcased they were clearly still together. They introduced themselves—to me, they needed no introduction—and asked me what it was like dating Leo, how we'd met, the normal introductory questions.

"At his favorite café, Laughing Man." I blushed; not entirely for fake. "He loves that place."

"And you don't?" The woman's sculpted black eyebrows elevated. She was wearing a vibrant red dress in a similar cut to mine, but she had the svelte, supermodel body that fit the silhouette better. I felt cramped into the tight, tight fabric, but it fit her like a lightweight cloud of velvet. In the who wore it better column, she'd be the winner.

"Oh, no," I laughed, "I despise that place. I was picking up an order for a friend, actually, and we...well, our eyes met, and that was that."

This was the story we'd agreed on; the meet-cute that even the coldest-hearted of people would warm up to.

The couple must have believed it, because they set their hands on their hearts with lengthy awwws, and wandered off to the bar.

I stared at the mirror-like counter and the bartenders hard at work on the other side. Whether they were hired for the night or came with the penthouse, I wasn't sure I wanted to know. Rows of liquor bottles lined the shelves behind them; I had to admit I was getting thirsty at the sight.

"Don't drink over there, if you can help it. You'll thank me later."

I walked around the room, doing my darndest to pretend like it wasn't wowing me for the first time, striking me with its elegant touches and over-the-top furnishings and expensive lights and sculptures and décor.

I fished my phone out of my clutch, checking for messages from Cameron. He hadn't said anything since I'd thanked him for his advice earlier. At home, I had two glasses of rosé, as opposed to the one he'd suggested I take. The nap was interrupted by my anxiety, and my shower was way too long, leaving me with pruned fingertips I thought would never return to normal.

No reply. Even when I was busy with Leo, Cameron normally sent me text messages. Sometimes a quick smiley face, sometimes a lengthy paragraph about his crappy day. But there was nothing now; nothing, when I really needed his encouragement for this. I was in a world I knew nothing about, surrounded by people I feared would cut me in a heartbeat. I was playing the role of someone I'd never envisioned becoming.

Leo's girlfriend. Leo's fake girlfriend. I had to act my ass off to make our relationship seem real. All these people knew him. But they didn't know me. No one here knew me; but Cameron did.

I texted him.

Me: This place is insane. It smells like cheap sugar perfume. Can't these people afford good-smelling shit?

I had no clue where Leo went, but if I didn't at least pretend to mingle with his guests, he'd be upset. So, I meandered around the room, introducing myself to some, immersing myself into conversations with others. They were accepting, though some arched their eyebrows at me including myself into whatever discussion they were having.

A waiter with a tray of amuse-bouches came near me, and I took a glance at what was being served. When I noticed fancy pigs in a blanket, I almost chortled out loud; but my stomach growled, so I plucked one from the platter and scarfed it up.

I checked my phone; still nothing from Cameron. He couldn't have that much work tonight, because I was with Leo. He basically had the night off, so what was he doing? Why wasn't he responding? Was he sulking about everything, despite having said he was fine with it? Or had he gone out for a few drinks to drown his sorrows?

I never doubted Cameron, because he'd never given me a reason to. But not answering his texts was a rarity. The only times he didn't was when he was busy with Leo stuff. He'd finished his reports, Leo's schedules were set up and confirmed.

Me: Everything okay? I thought that last text was funny.

I kept thinking about his "be careful" warning, and how vague he'd been about it. What exactly did I need to be careful with? The drugs, the booze; those didn't bother me, as I'd been around them often, even before meeting Leo. The nightclubs we'd attended definitely felt more dangerous than this penthouse party with twenty or so ignorant rich assholes getting drunk. What did Cameron know that I didn't?

Me: Let me know if you're okay. I miss—

Someone came up behind me and snatched my phone from my hands. "Hey! What the—" I flipped on my heels to find Leo, smirking.

He held on to my phone and shook his head. "Bad girl." He stashed the phone in his back pocket and pulled me into his arms. "You're not being credible," he said, lowering his face to my level, coming as close as possible without touching me. His scent was intoxicating, the most sugary out of everyone else present, but it was familiar to me, reassuring. Delicious. "If all you do is spend the night texting Cameron, no one is going to believe this."

"I have been mingling, but you wandered off who the fuck knows where—"

He pressed his lips to mine to shut me up. "I noticed. But it's not enough." His lips trailed to my cheek, then slowly slid over to my earlobe, causing me chills with his spicy liquored breath. "Most of this party will be leaked on social media, you realize that?"

I bit my lip and nodded. Every movement brought his mouth harder against my skin, and his breath was warmer, trickling down the back of my dress.

"I know this is hard for you. But I didn't choose you simply because you were there that night." His tongue traced the bottom of my earlobe, and I all but screamed in his ear from the tickly, triggering sensation it caused. "I chose you because I sensed a bond between us. Because you could be trusted, and you could play with me, fool others into thinking you were mine. So be mine, tonight. Be into this. Let loose. Play this role."

I had a second to acknowledge him before he took my hand and led me to the bar. I tried to decline, to tell him I wasn't up to drinking, but he didn't take no for an answer.

"Mojito, right?" He quirked an eyebrow as he licked his lower lip and raked his hair out of his face. "That's the one that loosens you up the most?"

I hid my shock at his memory. I'd told him, once, that mojitos were the quickest way to get me buzzed. If he was ordering me a mojito, that meant he wanted me to become unhinged. He wanted me to loosen up, to let go.

Fuck.

Cameron told me to avoid the alcohol, but the drink arrived before me, with its delectable, bubbly mint aroma, and its promise of heavenly intoxication. I couldn't refuse. Especially not with so many gazes on me, on us.

I clinked my glass to Leo's, and we took our sips while maintaining eye-contact. Playing the game, showing everyone that we were well and truly in love with each other.

I well and truly was too close for comfort.

Leo dove into his role of host. He spun me around the room, introducing me to these so-called friends, singing my praises. He held my waist, ogled my breasts and pretended to get lost in them while others were speaking. He refreshed my drink once, twice, three times—I lost count. I was dizzy, delirious, dancing around the area as if I'd been here thousands of times and had no trouble getting friendly with these people he loathed.

Fuck. I couldn't control myself. When I drank like this, I got flirty—flirty with anyone. Leo pulled me away from the crowd, as more people had showed up while I was busy getting wasted. We sat on the couch, our legs smooshed together. His savory scent drew me in close to him, allured by every inch of him. I chewed on my lower lip, using every ounce of my minimal sobriety to not tell him what I really thought.

He was hot. He was fucking hot, and I fucking wanted him, and though I technically could have him, it'd be for all the wrong reasons. It wouldn't be to maintain our farce, it would be for me, for my own pleasure. That wasn't fair to anyone, least of all to Cameron.

But it was impossible to resist him. Impossible to not think of all the places he could strip me out of my dress and bend me over and have his way with me. Impossible to not beg to feel him inside me, filling me up, transporting me to another world.

Cameron was everything, but tonight, Leo was the star. The rockstar. A fangirl's wet dream. And I was here, with him, steps away from being able to realize that dream. The only thing stopping me was my guilt.

I resisted the urge to climb into his lap. He sat with his legs parted, his hand dangerously close to the bulge I knew was hiding there, under his pants.

He fixed his gaze on me, devouring me. Or so I thought, in my inebriation.

"You good?" He glanced at my lips, my eyes, my lips again. Even in my buzzed state, I knew he wanted to kiss me. Our bodies craved each other, that had been evident for a while, but neither of us had addressed it.

Until now. Until the liquor emboldening me whispered in my ear to be forward, to be blunt.

I approached my face to his and spoke, blowing my minty breath all over his mouth. "Better than ever, babe." I set my hand atop his, fighting the need to tiptoe it closer to between his legs, to finally touch that thing I'd felt against me more than once when we hugged, when we danced.

The tips of our noses brushed. I brought my lips as close to his as I could without actually touching them. Enough to share my heat with him, to indicate how badly I wanted to kiss him, but couldn't. We'd been kissing all night, but this urge felt different. Like I'd removed my fake mask and revealed my truth; that I'd stopped pretending to like him a while ago, and was ready to show him what a real kiss from me was like.

He didn't balk or shy away, but something in him changed. Whether it was my blurring vision playing tricks on me, or his proximity intoxicating me, I couldn't tell.

His smile was sly, seductive. He leaned in closer and tucked a thin strand of my hair behind my ear, his fingers grazing my skin gently.

"Is this part of the game, Emma?" His eyes creased. I'd been looking at his lips, reminding myself how delicious he tasted, but my gaze whipped upward. I drowned in him, in the intensity of the emotions he always held back from me; was he finally letting them flow out? "Or are you really into me, right now? Maybe it's the booze? For the first time since we started this, I can't read you. I think I like it, but I want to make sure."

I angled backwards, poking out my chest. "I can never read you," I said, too fast for my own good. "So, tell me, Leo." I puckered my lips and crossed my arms, purposely pushing them against my boobs. "Is this part of the game, or are you really into me?"

His expression turned so serious that it nearly knocked the alcohol out of me. God, he was so sexy when he was stern, when his eyes turned dark, when his body grew stiff. "I'm playing right now, in front of everyone." He got closer, putting his lips against mine, but not kissing me; he spoke, instead, his words trembling against my mouth. "But I am into you, Emma. Deeply so. I have been from the moment I met you that night, at dinner."

♪♪♪