LOGINAnastasia Blomqvist isn’t the typical billionaire heiress and everyone loves reminding her. She’s not glamorous like her sisters; she runs the beauty empire from a desk while they chase the spotlight. No parties, no men, just work… and her cat. But when her family won’t stop meddling in her love life, Anastasia decides to handle it like a real businesswoman. By hiring the perfect fake boyfriend. Bram Kent. Ex-hockey star, devastatingly handsome, extremely charming and newly broke. The deal is simple: family dinners, public appearances and no real feelings. Until Bram starts going off script. Flirting harder and getting closer than anticipated. He starts changing her life without meaning to. And somewhere between the act and the attraction, Anastasia starts to wonder: Are we still pretending?
View MoreBram moves back to take his clothes off completely and then it's my turn to look completely starstruck because he was right. He is bigger than last time and it takes my breath away, especially when he takes his boxers off and lets me see how much he wants me.And it's a lot. A big want. I missed it so fucking much.But when he comes back and settles on top of me, he still doesn't make the first move. It's like he's waiting for me to change my mind, like he's still expecting me to pull away at the last second and rebuild that careful distance I've been maintaining for a while, but I won't. So, slowly, he allows his hands slide along my sides, moving hi hands up to my bare tits with a scared look in his face. He looks like he's reacquainting himself with something he hasn't touched in too long, like he's reminding himself I'm actually here and not something he imagined back into existence, and I feel it in the way his grip shifts, in the way he exhales like he's been holding his breat
➿➿➿➿We don't say much on the way back to my place, and I tell myself it's because we're both tired, because the night has already held too many emotions to neatly process, because silence is easier than saying the wrong thing again, but the truth is that the quiet between us feels alive, like it's watching, waiting, stretching thinner and tighter with every passing second until it hums under my skin.By the time I unlock the door and step inside, I can feel him behind me. Every nerve in my body is very aware of the space he occupies, and I set my keys down more carefully than necessary just to give myself a second to breathe.I turn slowly. He's already looking at me intensely, like he's trying to read something written under my skin, like he's waiting for me to decide what this is going to be.And for once, I don't hesitate."You're being very quiet," I say, stepping closer, tilting my head just enough to study him, letting a faint, controlled smile touch my lips."Trying not to mes
{ Anastasia }I smile and squeeze his hand, but then I realize there's something else I have to say before we try to move forward. "There's... something else I never told you," I say, and that alone is enough to change his expression, the lightness fading into something more attentive, more careful."Okay," he says, leaning in just a little. "What is it?"I hesitate, because saying it out loud still feels strange, like giving it shape makes it heavier, but I push through anyway."My ex," I start, keeping my voice steady even though I can feel the tension creeping into my shoulders. "Isaac. He wasn't just... a bad boyfriend or emotionally unavailable or whatever people like to call it when they don't want to say the truth."Bram doesn't interrupt. "He was abusive. Emotionally, then psychologically and then... physically," I continue, more directly now, because there is no point softening it. Bram freezes in front of me, "He wasn't like that since the beginning and it wasn't all the t
{ Abraham }She won't come.I tell myself that from the moment I step into the restaurant, like setting expectations low will somehow soften the impact when I inevitably end up sitting here alone, pretending I came for the ambiance and not because I am pathetically hopeful, but the truth is there is still a small, stubborn spark in my chest that refuses to go out, the kind of blind hope that has no business existing after everything that has happened, and yet here I am, dressed nicer than usual, sitting in a high tea place surrounded by elegant older people who look like they belong here in a way I absolutely do not.And a couple.A very, very happy couple.A couple that just got engaged right in front of my eyes at the exact table I wanted, the one I specifically requested after watching too many videos online of "most romantic places in Vancouver," the one with the perfect view of the city and just enough privacy to make it feel like something out of a movie, except now it is covere






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