Faking It To Survive
Chapter 11

Rose

I definitely didn’t weigh the pros and cons of being in a relationship with a celebrity as famous as Ryan Baker, not even a fake relationship. We’ve had to make countless appearances at star-studded events with paparazzi shoving their cameras in our faces without permission. I’ve managed to avoid them taking pictures of me, and the ones on the internet have been removed, just like Ryan promised.

I also didn’t anticipate how much I would love being out and about with Ryan—going places together, experiencing the celebrity world with him by my side, making fun of rich, stuck-up people together. I doubt any of it would interest me if Ryan wasn’t with me.

Somehow, I’ve gotten even more comfortable with him as he slowly becomes a constant in my life. I don’t let myself think about the danger it poses to him or the fact that I’ll have to give it all up if I’m ever found.

The rumors about Ryan being a rapist haven’t faded. If anything, they’ve only gotten worse with Tammy bringing out more accusations and fabricated details of their supposedly violent relationship. Not even Travis can stop her from shooting her mouth off, and the fake relationship can’t do anything about that.

I settle down on a couch that’s better than all the furniture I own. I pick up the remote to change the channel to something more interesting when Ryan comes out of his kitchen, carrying a huge bowl of popcorn, a grin, and no shirt.

“Don’t you ever wear a shirt, Baker?” I g***n when he flops down next to me.

“What’s the point? No one can see me but you, and you’re my girlfriend.” He shoots me an even more mischievous grin and stuffs a handful of popcorn into his mouth.

I can’t resist taking in his toned, hard body. He’s worked out hard enough that he can flaunt the kind of perfectly carved eight-pack women always admire.

You would think, after the amount of time I’ve seen him shirtless during training, that none of this would affect me, but I can’t help staring at his defined, muscular body. I feel myself getting turned on, and I have to tear my eyes away.

He digs his hand into the popcorn bowl again then holds it out to me. “Please, you love me like this, Bloom. You can’t take your eyes off of me.” He flexes his biceps just to annoy me. Annoying me is his favorite pastime.

I roll my eyes and g***n. Not too long ago, his behavior would have infuriated me, but I’m so used to Ryan’s excessive flirting by now that it’s just become a part of his charm.

“If I had known you would be this insufferable, I never would have agreed to come over.”

“Don’t kid yourself. You love it here.”

He isn’t wrong. I do love his apartment. How could I not when mine is such a rat hole? His penthouse oozes luxury, masculinity, and all the comforts anyone could ask for.

I come over to his place pretty often now, but I can’t stop marveling at how sprawling and sophisticated his penthouse is. He even has a private pool on the balcony just outside the living room. His kitchen is always well-stocked, and he cooks, which is more than I can say for myself.

The more I find out about Ryan, the more intrigued I get. There’s a man with so many layers underneath his flirty, playboy exterior.

I shove a handful of popcorn into my mouth and gasp when I taste the creamy, delicious flavor. “Oh my! This is amazing.”

Ryan puffs out his chest and winks. “I excel at many things, Rose. Stick around, and you might find out about more of them.”

“I really should know better by now not to give you compliments. How are you so good at cooking, anyway?” I shove another handful of popcorn in my mouth and g***n with pleasure at how amazing it tastes.

Ryan doesn’t reply right away. I don’t notice at first, but when I do, I spot him studying me from his side of the couch. I can’t read his expression.

“Hello?” I move my hand in front of his face, and he blinks.

He shakes his head, clears his throat, and bends over the bowl. Is he avoiding looking at me?

“I had to learn how to cook because someone was depending on me.”

“Who was it?”

He still doesn’t answer. What’s wrong with him?

I lean forward to get a closer look at him. Is he hiding a secret just like I am?

He jumps back, stiffens, and blinks rapidly.

“Am I making you uncomfortable?” I ask.

“What? No, I … I’m fine.” He scratches the back of his head and laughs, but his voice comes out broken and strained.

“So … who was this mystery person who was depending on you?”

He looks up and grins at me. Now I recognize that as one of his genuine smiles. “My sister.”

“Really? I didn’t know you had a sister.”

“Most people don’t.” He picks up a kernel of popcorn, throws it right in my face, and then clucks his tongue in mock disappointment. “Too slow, Trainer Rose.”

I glare at him, pick up the stray kernel, and throw it right back at him, but he catches it in his mouth.

“Show off.” I stick my tongue out at him, and he chuckles. “So, why doesn’t anyone know about your sister?”

“She doesn’t like the press. She’d rather keep a low profile—like you.” He throws another piece of popcorn my way, and I catch it in my mouth this time. “She’s actually married to Travis.”

My mouth drops open in shock. “No way!” I put the pieces together really quickly. “So, is that her picture in Travis’s office? The big painting of the stunning angel on the wall behind his desk?”

“Yep.” He throws another kernel, and I catch it.

I have to think this over to take in what he’s telling me. I’ve seen that painting in Travis’s office so many times. I just assumed the woman was a model or a princess from a fairy tale or something. Ryan’s sister is absolutely beautiful.

The painter perfectly captures the shimmering gold of her hair, the fierceness in her bright blue eyes, her small, mischievous grin, and the innocence in her perfectly shaped face. Now that I think about it, she does share quite a resemblance with Ryan.

“I had no idea Travis was married, much less to your sister. He doesn’t wear a ring.”

“He does.” Ryan throws me another kernel, and I catch that one, too. “He just wears it around his neck. They both do.”

“Huh. Interesting.” I peer into his eyes. “And were you completely okay with him marrying your sister? I thought guys didn’t like their best friends messing around with their sisters.”

Ryan stops throwing popcorn, and his expression goes serious. He pushes the bowl away. “Travis isn’t just my best friend. He’s my brother. For a long time, it was just the three of us—him, Trina, and me. Our mom was a druggie, and we had no idea who our dad was. My friendship with Travis and my relationship with my sister were the only good things in my life. We had to learn how to fend for ourselves, and things only got worse when my mom overdosed. Travis helped me get involved in underground fighting. That’s how we paid the bills and sent Trina to college. If I trust anyone with my sister, it’s him. Besides, those two have been so annoyingly in love with each other for as long as I can remember that Trina would kick my a*s if I ever tried to come between them.”

He smiles so endearingly at the memory that I have to smile at him. I’m seeing him in a whole new light. His loyalty to his friend and his love for his sister is mind-blowing. I want to know more.

What was growing up like for him? How did he cope with having a druggie mother and an absentee father? What was it like being the sole caretaker to his little sister?

I try to hold back and wind up grinning at him. “You are scared of her, aren’t you?”

“Terrified.” He smirks back at me, and then he furrows his brows. “You look breathtaking when you smile like that,” he murmurs softly.

My cheeks burn, and I have to look away, but his eyes hold me captive. My lips part, but no words come out. I realize that, out of nowhere, we’re now sitting next to each other on the couch, no space between us.

I blink, and the spell shatters.

I mumble, “Thanks,” and turn back to the TV, but I still feel Ryan’s eyes boring into me for what feels like a long time before he turns to watch the TV, too.

“No way. Nuh-uh,” he snaps. “We are not watching another MMA fight. That isn’t what I made this popcorn for.” He tries to take the remote out of my hand, but I quickly hide it behind my back.

“Come on, Ryan! This one is good.”

“Absolutely not. Don’t you ever watch movies … you know … like a normal person?”

“Shouldn’t you be interested in this? You’re an MMA fighter. And need I remind you that you have a fight coming up?”

“Only a psycho likes watching people get beat up all the time, Rose. Don’t women like watching romcoms or some shit like that?”

“I’m not women. I’m Rose,” I retort and move back when he leans closer.

He tightens his grip on the remote. “Don’t I know it?” he grumbles. “Give it here, Rose.”

“No.”

“Don’t make me get it myself.”

“You can try.”

Ryan snorts, looks off to the side, and then back at me. Then, in a flash, he pounces and shoves his hand behind my back. “Give me the remote, Rose.” He struggles to tug it out of my grasp.

“No!” I yell. “It’s mine now.”

We go on wrestling, twisting, and turning against each other until he takes the gloves off and starts tickling me. I immediately drop the remote. I hate being tickled.

“You cheater!” I gasp, but he doesn’t stop. He just keeps on tickling me.

He laughs at my pathetic struggles. “Acknowledge my victory, Rose.”

“Fine, fine! You win! Now, let me go!”

He laughs louder and finally puts me out of my misery by stopping, but instead of pulling away, his eyes stay glued to mine. We both pant for air, and he’s lying right on top of me, his bare chest pressed against mine.

His eyes flick down to my lips, and my pulse quickens. Is he going to k**s me? My mouth goes dry, and I stiffen. His breath brushes my cheeks, and all my senses spike off the charts.

He’s so close, and our lips are only inches apart. I don’t have it in me to stop what I know is about to happen. I want this. I want to feel his lips on mine.

A ding shatters the silence. It’s the elevator door opening. Someone is in the house with us.

I push Ryan away and straighten up. He looks hurt at first until he follows my gaze to the elevator, and we both see Travis standing there, staring right at us.