The Stand-In(81)

“All I’m saying is that, given the society in which we live, which prioritizes fame and wealth and makes that desirable, being born in that perfect Punnett square of life means you can get whoever you want.”

“Why do you talk like this is a competition? I don’t want to get anyone. I like you, Gracie Reed. I like the Gracie who stood up for Fangli and made sure she got help when the rest of us were tiptoeing around it. I like the woman who is obsessed with time management techniques and whose towels fall off on a recurring basis.”

My face heats. “I was hoping you’d forget that happened.”

He snorts. “Me be able to forget you standing there with no towel? Never.”

“It was an accident.”

“That’s what made it great.” He smiles. “That’s the woman I want, the one who picks up the towel like it’s no big deal and doesn’t fuss about it. I want the one who, when asked to take part in the most idiotic plan I’d ever heard, decides to give it a go because she has enough confidence to pull off being Wei Fangli.”

No one has ever described me as confident but hearing it from Sam makes me realize maybe I am more than I thought. I mull this over as I try to tamp down the fireworks going off in my chest. “This is a short-term contract,” I say. “I’m going to be out of your life in a month.”

“A lot can happen in a month.” He moves back. “Gracie, you have no idea of the risks I take to be with you. Going for walks? Visiting your mom?”

“Those are not high-stakes activities. Lots of people walk around.”

“I am not lots of people. I know this plays into your need to see me as shallow and egotistical but my image is important. I’m cautious.”

I wiggle my eyebrows at him. “Making out on a balcony when anyone could have come around the corner?”

“This is exactly what I mean. You make me…” He throws himself back in the seat and runs his hands through his hair. “It’s like everything I thought was serious becomes less so when you’re around.”

“Am I offended at that? I think I might be.”

“I’m saying, obviously poorly, that you give me perspective. I’m grateful. I like it.” He shrugs, looking at the roof. “I like you.”

I want to quiz him on this a bit. Like as in the way I like hot showers? Like as in appreciates my company? Or, he like likes me? But I chicken out because I’m not sure I’m ready for the answer. It’s an emotional roller coaster of a night, to be frank, and part of me just wants to put off all talk of feelings until tomorrow.

Sam straightens up and looks at me, hands pressed flat against the seat. “Gracie, I’ve never forced a moment. I’m going to sit here. What happens next is up to you.”

He doesn’t even have time to finish before I’m on him. His hands come up to catch me around the waist, turning us to lean against the back of the seats. Kissing Sam is like nothing I’ve experienced. When Riley kissed me, it was always as if it was preparation for the main event. Sam kisses me as if it’s the destination, not the journey. He’s teasing, layering tiny kisses on the corners of my mouth before he captures my lower lip with his. Then he lets me go.

“Gracie?”

“Yes?” I give my head a shake to get my brain back in order. “What’s wrong?”

“You seem a little… Ahh.” He wriggles and I slowly grasp that I’ve been stiff-arming his shoulders.

“Sorry.” This time, he lets me take the lead and I can feel how his mouth melts under mine. Releasing his shoulders, I card my fingers through his hair and he groans against me. “Keep doing that,” he says.

A minute later, we push apart and he grins. “By the way, you looked to the left again,” he says.

“Should we stop?”

He runs his hand over my leg. “No, I think maybe we should practice.”

We do for the rest of the drive.

***

I don’t have sex with Sam, but only because I’m not that spontaneous and I want to shave above my knees first. Not even passion can get past my mental gatekeeper, the Dread Lady Overthinker.

The moment we arrive at the hotel, I rearrange my wig so we look like we’ve done nothing in the car but chat platonically and check our phones. My lipstick continues to be tonight’s real MVP, and I don’t need to touch it up at all.

Conscious of the security cameras, we don’t make out in the elevator, although Sam’s hair is disheveled and his lips are even fuller from kissing in the car. He leaves me chastely outside my suite, where I manage to lock the door and take a single step before I sink down on the wooden floor and curl up in a rictus of unbelieving happiness.

Which immediately turns to total terror. What have I done? We had a good thing going, a collegial thing, and I’ve blown that right out the window. What if he regrets this in the morning and it’s weird? What if Fangli is mad? What if I turn into a jealous shrew of a woman, furious this has to be kept secret from the world?

What if I get hurt? I haven’t been with a man since Riley. I should have at least taken a ride on the merry-go-round before I buckled in for the roller coaster.

There’s no one I can talk to. Fangli is asleep and so is Anjali. I don’t know what to say because I don’t know how I feel, exactly. It’s almost like the first time I had sex, where I wanted to tell everyone and also hug the secret to myself to savor it.