“Would you be quiet,” I hissed.

We had just dipped behind the heavy curtains when the door flung open. Peeking through the side, I saw it was the butler. “What are you doing?” someone asked in the hallway.

“I could have sworn I heard somebody moving furniture around in here,” the butler replied.

I snorted at his summation of our actions. I was sure when it came down to it, we probably had been moving the desk around some. When the door shut back, I exhaled a relieved breath before sliding the condom off the Bear and tossing it in the trashcan. Then I pulled my briefs and pants back up.

“That was a close one,” I mused.

“No, that is exactly what happens whenever I try to be bad!” Addison moaned as she slid the straps of her dress back into place.

“Admit it, it was fucking hot.”

She paused in fidgeting with the front of her dress, and a sly smile curved across her lips. “Yeah, it was.” Then the moment passed. “Would you zip me up?”

“Sure.” After Addison turned around, my fingers reached for her zipper, but then froze in midair. As the setting sun trickled in from the curtains, it illuminated her from the top of her head down to her feet in an angelic glow.

And then it hit me. There was no more wondering or questioning my feelings. I loved her. I really and truly loved her. Without even hesitating, the words tumbled from my lips. “Addie, I’m in love with you.”

Addison whirled around. “What did you say?”

“I said…I love you.”

She blinked at me in disbelief. “That’s what I thought you said.”

“I really mean it, Addison.”

“I know you do.”

My brows shot up. “You do?”

Bobbing her head, she replied, “I can tell by the look in your eyes.” After exhaling a deep breath, she smiled. “I love you, too.”

At the sound of those words coming from her, I thought my heart might burst right out of my chest. Holy shit, she actually loves me. “Man, I’m fucking glad to hear you say that. It wouldn’t have changed the way I feel, but I’m glad you didn’t leave me hanging out to dry.”

Addison’s hand came up to cup my cheek. Love danced in her eyes, coupled with a bit of mischief. I’d seen that look before, but I had never realized what it meant until today.

“Well, when I imagined saying it, it wasn’t after we’d just almost gotten caught having sex,” she mused.

I laughed. “Think of it this way: it just makes it more special.”

“I guess you’re right.”

“Now come on and zip me up.”

“Yeah, we better get out of here before the butler comes back.”

“Or they bring the food tray to an empty room.”

My stomach rumbled at the mention of food. “I’m starving.”

Addison gave me a coy grin. “I quite enjoyed working up an appetite.”

“Hey, I know— how ’bout after we eat, we work up an even bigger one?”

She laughed. “Sounds good to me.” Then she cocked her head. “Now, will you please tell me where the hell my panties are?”

ADDISON

Barrett Callahan was in love with me. Notorious playboy and womanizer Barrett Callahan was in love with me—regular old, non-supermodel me. After speculating about his feelings for me the last few months, I now had verbal confirmation. He had said those three little words without provocation and not under duress. They had come tumbling out of his lips of his own volition. Call me a little petty, but I basked in the fact that he had said it first. For a man like Barrett, that was a real coup, and I couldn’t help feeling a little victorious as I snuggled under the opulent Frette sheets next to a snoring Barrett.

Don’t get me wrong, I loved him, too. Over our months together, I’d come to fall in love with the kindness, integrity, and compassion that lay beneath his oversexed, party-loving surface. Time and time again, he had proven my stereotype of him wrong. He possessed all the qualities you looked for when it came to the type of man you wanted to fall in love with. He treated his parents with respect and deep admiration, and he had a deep bond with Thorn and Caroline. He exhibited a strong work ethic in his devotion to his job, and aside from the barrage of sexual innuendos that were a quirk of his character, Barrett always put my needs and wants first. He was a real catch, and I had reeled him in hook, line, and sinker.

But the longer I lay there, basking in our mutual declarations of love, the more my feelings of euphoria began to fizzle. While I should have been inwardly belting out “Something Good” from The Sound of Music or “One Hand, One Heart” from West Side Story, I couldn’t seem to chase away the overwhelming sense of dread that coiled in the pit of my stomach. It even hung heavy in the air around me, making it difficult to breathe.

Questions swirled in my head at a manic pace. Did Barrett really love me, or after all these months of pretending, had he just succumbed to the hype? Would he change his mind in the light of day? Would it all fade after the election? When the paparazzi were no longer dogging us and we were no longer playing our parts in the charade, would his love survive? Was it even possible for someone like him to romantically love a member of the opposite sex?

Smacking my hand to my forehead, I willed the voices in my head to stop. But, no matter how hard I tried to think about something else, my anxiety continued working in overtime. One thing was certain: I wasn’t getting to sleep any time soon. More than anything, I knew I needed to get away from Barrett. Rising out of bed, I tiptoed across the hardwood floor to the closet. After grabbing a pair of yoga pants and a sweater from my suitcase, I crept into the bathroom to change. Then I slipped into my sneakers, grabbed my phone, and hurried out of the room.