If Love Had A Price
: Chapter 8

Seducing Gloria was the easiest and hardest job Nate had ever had.

Easy, because Gloria fell for his and Kris’s ruse hook, line, and sinker.

Hard, because Nate had to pretend to be Kris’s boyfriend—a shitty one who flirted with her future stepmother behind her back at that—while not touching her the way he wanted to.

Yes, they cuddled and hugged when Gloria was around, but that wasn’t the same. Nate wanted Kris alone, for real. No acting. He wanted her beneath him, screaming his name while he drove into her. He wanted her mouth around his cock, and his fingers bringing her over the edge, and—

“Dude, careful!” Elijah’s voice jerked Nate out of his fantasies.

Nate cursed as coffee spilled over the edge of the mug and scalded his fingers. He quickly set the drink on the counter and washed his hands with ice-cold water before cleaning up his mess.

It’d only been two weeks since he and Kris started their boyfriend-girlfriend act, and he was already in over his head. That was what happened when you spent time with someone almost every day.

For their plan to succeed, he had to be around Gloria, which meant regular trips to Kris’s house. Not that Nate was complaining. The mansion boasted everything a guy could want, and he enjoyed hanging out with Kris. She was spoiled, yeah, but he supposed it was hard not to be when you had that many zeros in your bank account. Plus, she was funny and incisive and hot as hell. No bullshit, which he appreciated, and she smelled amazing—

Nate stifled a groan. Two weeks in and he was already blurring the lines between business and pleasure. What had started as a challenge (melt Kris’s icy exterior) and side hustle (the whole seduce-Gloria scheme) had turned into something else entirely—and he and Kris hadn’t even had a proper kiss yet.

Fuck.

“What’s with you lately? You’ve been distracted as hell.” Elijah crossed his arms over his chest. With his spiky blue hair, nose ring, and penchant for black, he would be more at home in a hipster Brooklyn dive bar than a trendy, all-white L.A. cafe named Alchemy. Then again, his father was the cafe’s owner, so he didn’t have much choice when it came to where he worked.

“Lot on my mind.” Nate made a new latte. This time, he stopped the machine right as the coffee hit the brim.

He couldn’t afford any mess-ups. Elijah was an old friend from high school and had done Nate a solid getting him this job. Decent salary, nice coworkers, clean environment, and flexible enough when Nate had to adjust his shifts for auditions or family emergencies. He didn’t want to fuck it up by giving Elijah’s dad—a notorious hardass—any reason to fire him. Luckily, Elijah’s father was rarely around, and Liza, the manager who ran daily operations, loved Nate.

Still, better safe than sorry.

“I can see that. At the risk of sounding like a clingy girlfriend, we haven’t hung out in weeks.” Elijah popped an eyebrow. “Wait. Do you have a new girl? That why you’ve been so MIA lately?”

“Not really,” Nate said with a twinge of guilt. He spent most of his time with Kris these days, to the detriment of his other relationships. “Sorry, man. Let’s hang soon. I’ll kick your ass at Call of Duty.”

Elijah snorted, all ire gone. That was the great thing about him—he never held a grudge. “You couldn’t kick my ass if I glued it to your foot.”

Nate finished the latte art and smirked at his friend. “Wanna bet? Twenty bucks says I can.”

“Since when do you bet money?”

Never. Nate never bet with money. But he had $7,500 sitting pretty in his bank account, twenty bucks wasn’t that much money, and he was in a good mood—he’d gotten a callback for the crime thriller role.

“It’s a good day.”

Nate rounded the counter and walked over to the dark-haired woman who’d ordered the coffee. She smiled her thanks. She was a regular who kept to herself most of the time, but she was nice and tipped well, which was more than he could say for most customers.

“Can I get you anything else?” he asked.

“No, thanks.” The woman’s gaze strayed to the entrance like she was waiting for someone. She did that a lot, except Nate had never seen her here with another person. “I’m okay for now.”

“If you change your mind, you know where to replace me.”

Nate flashed a charming grin and returned to his spot behind the counter. Elijah was on his phone, playing some stupid game, and Nate was refilling the pastry case when the chimes over the door rang.

He saw Elijah straighten out of the corner of his eye.

“Dude, that’s her,” his friend hissed.

“Who?” Nate slid a croissant onto the shelf, not really caring about the answer. Elijah had more crushes than a middle school girl.

“The hot chick with the attitude. The one who’s always here on the weekends, though she hasn’t been around in a while.”

Nate stilled. He looked over the counter and, sure enough, there was Kris, sitting at her usual table by the window.

“You think she’ll go out with me?” Elijah sounded dreamy. He’d gone on and on about Kris since he first laid eyes on her at the beginning of the summer. It had been annoying then, but it was downright irritating now.

A muscle ticked in Nate’s jaw. “Doubt it.”

He resisted the urge to yell, that’s my girlfriend! Because that wasn’t accurate, was it? He and Kris put on an act around Gloria, but in their free time, they were free to do whatever—and whoever—they wanted.

The thought incited alarmingly murderous thoughts in Nate’s head.

“Ye of little faith.” Elijah’s eyes remained on Kris while he swiped his tongue over his lip ring. Nate wanted to yank the damn thing out. “I may not be a pretty boy like you, but I know how to get a girl all hot and bothered.”

“Not if you keep saying things like ‘hot and bothered.’”

“Watch and learn.” Elijah ignored Nate’s barb and sidled off to take Kris’s order, even though she was sitting in Nate’s section.

Nate watched, pastries forgotten, as Elijah said something that made Kris smile.

There was no way Elijah was her type. He couldn’t imagine a princess like her going for someone with blue hair and facial piercings.

But what did he know about her, really? He knew she was from Seattle and had a summer job working for top Hollywood publicist Bobbi Rayden—not of her own volition. He knew she was Filipino and that her father earned his first fortune in the video games world before he branched off into other sectors like e-commerce and technology. He knew little things like her favorite color (green), astrological sign (Scorpio), and the way her nose scrunched when she saw something she didn’t like. He knew she was beautiful and sarcastic and made him want her more than he’d ever wanted anyone in his life.

But he didn’t know her. What made her tick. What made her afraid. What type of guy she liked.

Nate assumed Kris went for the douchey trust fund types. The ones with college degrees who summered in exclusive European resorts and bought girls diamonds on the third date because they could.

That wasn’t Nate. But that wasn’t Elijah, either.

Elijah took out his phone and handed it to Kris.

Nate stifled a snort. There was no way Kris would—

What the fuck?

His jaw unhinged when Kris input what had to be her number and handed it back to Elijah with a smile. Who was this girl? She never smiled that much. Scowls? Yeah. Eye rolls? All the time. But smiles? Those were few and far in between.

Now she was smiling at Elijah like he was Harry Styles and she was a tween fangirl.

Nate’s eye twitched as Elijah bounced over with a huge grin on his face.

“I got her number,” his friend said, sounding giddy. “Told ya. I’m irresistible.”

“Congrats.” Nate remembered the pastries and shoved the remaining croissants into the pastry case with more force than necessary. “Good for you.”

He hadn’t told Elijah or anyone else about his arrangement with Kris. As far as his friend knew, Kris was just another customer—one who’d given him her number.

Nate’s eye twitched again.

“She’s nicer than I thought,” Elijah mused. “I talked to her once or twice before, but in passing. I thought she’d be one of those stuck-up types, but she’s not so bad. A bit prickly, but she’s hot as hell, so I don’t mind.”

“Did she place an order?” Nate abruptly changed the subject. The last thing he wanted was to listen to Elijah ramble on about how hot Kris was. He had eyes, thank you very much.

“Oh, yeah. Vanilla oat latte with a double shot of espresso and a blueberry scone.”

“I’ll make it.” Nate started the order before Elijah could argue. “There’s another customer.”

While his friend took care of the overly bleached blonde in a pink tracksuit, Nate put the order together and stalked over to Kris. He couldn’t slam the drink on the table unless he wanted another spill situation, but the plate with the scone hit the wooden surface with an angry thud.

She didn’t flinch. “Someone woke up on the wrong side of bed today.”

Wrong. He’d been having a great day until she came in and got all cozy with his best friend.

“I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but you need to stop,” he said.

Kris raised one perfect dark brow and sipped her latte. “I’m enjoying a drink at a cafe—the one you work at. I don’t think your boss would be happy with you shooing away paying customers.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Nate said through gritted teeth. “I’m talking about you and Elijah.”

“Who?”

“The guy you just gave your number to,” he spit out.

“Oh. Blue Hair.” Kris’s expression cleared. She cocked her head and stared at him with a teasing smile. “Nate Reynolds. Are you…jealous?”

He almost laughed out loud. “Uh, no. I don’t get jealous.”

Not over girls, anyway. Yes, Nate wanted Kris, but that didn’t mean he was jealous. He was just…protective of his friend. He was convinced Elijah wasn’t her type, and who knew what nefarious plans Kris had up her sleeve? Her Gloria scheme proved she was capable of anything.

At least, that was what he told himself.

“Hmm.” Kris broke eye contact and ripped off a piece of her scone. “Then why are you so concerned about who I give my number to?”

“I don’t want you to hurt him,” Nate said after a pause.

That caught her attention. “What makes you think I would be the one doing the hurting?” She sounded offended.

“Because you’re not the type of girl who would ever let your guard down enough to get hurt.”

The words spilled out before Nate could stop them.

Damn. He hadn’t planned to say that. He didn’t even know where the sentiment came from. But it was too late—both he and Kris froze, like they were afraid any movement on their part would bring the words crashing down until they splintered into a million pieces at their feet.

“You don’t know the first thing about me.” Kris broke the silence first. The ice princess shield was back, so thick and cold it froze the blood in Nate’s veins. “How dare you act as if you do.”

That wasn’t true. They weren’t best friends, but they’d gotten to know each other a helluva lot better these past few weeks.

Not that Nate was going to tell her that. He was pissed and confused as to why he was so pissed, so he simply turned and left without another word.

He spent the rest of his shift avoiding Kris, but as luck would have it, she left at the same time he clocked out.

They walked to their respective cars in silence.

They’d have to make up eventually, thanks to the Gloria Plan, but for now, Nate welcomed the animosity. It was better than wanting her and not being able to have her.

He could tease her, flirt with her. Hell, he could even kiss her—he had one unclaimed kiss on his docket, and for all their cuddling in front of Gloria, their lips had yet to touch. But he could never have her because they weren’t just from different cities—they were from different worlds, and the princess and pauper stories only ever ended well in fiction.

Irritated, Nate flipped on the radio, hoping the music would silence his thoughts. He was glad he’d agreed to meet Skylar at the Santa Monica Pier tonight; he needed the distraction.

He glanced in his rearview mirror and realized Kris’s silver Mercedes was right behind him, even though they were going the opposite direction of Beverly Hills.

He made a left. She made a left. He made a right. She made a right.

Was she following him?

Excitement and curiosity warred in his stomach. The thought of a stalker shouldn’t have excited him, but it did—if the stalker was Kris.

“I have issues,” he said out loud. The song on the radio dropped its bass like it agreed with him.

Jerk.

Great. Now I’m angry at a song.

Nate parked at a metered spot near the pier and, wouldn’t you know it, Kris pulled into the space two cars behind him.

Nate texted his sister to let her know he was here before he got out of the car and glared at Kris, who glared right back.

“Are you following me?” Kris demanded.

He laughed in disbelief. “You were driving behind me the entire time. Hard to follow you when I was first.”

“Maybe you sensed which way I was going.”

Nate couldn’t believe his ears. “That’s insane.”

“But not impossible.”

“You think too highly of yourself. I have better things to do with my evenings than follow you around.” His phone chimed with a new text.

Skylar: I’m by the carousel. See you soon!

“And I have better things to do than argue with you.” Kris tossed her hair over her shoulder and marched by him. Even in her crazy heels, she barely reached his shoulder.

“Whatever.” Nate pocketed his phone and headed toward the pier.

Their silence was awkward as hell, considering they were walking next to each other toward the same destination. Nate didn’t even remember why they were mad at each other, but he’d be damned if he caved first.

After a couple of minutes, the Santa Monica Pier came into view. It was one of the most iconic spots in L.A., and while it was nice at any time of day, it shined brightest at sunset. The jungle of neon lights and brightly colored rides battled for attention against the fiery oranges and deep purples streaking the skies, and the famous Ferris wheel spun lazily in the background—a comforting anchor to the chaos.

Nate and Kris both turned toward the carousel.

“Don’t say it,” Kris said without looking at him. “I’m meeting someone at the carousel.”

“Me too.” Nate paused. “Who are you meeting?”

Was it a date? The possibility set his teeth on edge.

“None of your business.” Kris crinkled her nose at a passing group of tourists wearing fanny packs.

Fine. Whatever. He’d replace out soon enough, anyway.

As they approached the carousel, Nate kept his eye out for Kris’s date. The douche in the Ray-Bans and salmon shorts was a possibility—he screamed “look at me, I have money” and begged for a punch in the face—but a girl appeared and wrapped her arms around his waist right as the thought crossed Nate’s mind.

Before he could continue scouting, he heard Skylar call his name.

“Nate! Over here!” She waved. One of Skylar’s soccer camp friends had dropped her off, and in her pink tank top and jean shorts, she looked younger than her seventeen years.

Nate’s face softened into a smile. He was looking forward to a night of cotton candy and silly rides with his sister. It’d take his mind off—

“Kris!” Skylar waved again. “Oh my God, you guys came at the same time. What a coincidence.”

Nate’s smile dropped.

What. The. Fuck.

How did his sister know Kris? What the hell was going on?

“Hi!” Skylar hugged Kris and gestured at Nate. “This is Nate, my brother. Nate, this is my friend Kris. I met her at, um, the movies. I thought it’d be fun if we had a group hang tonight. The more the merrier, right?” She beamed, ignoring the daggers flying from Nate’s eyes. “Plus, you guys are around the same age. I thought you’d get along. Make new friends and all that.”

Oh, God. The pieces clicked into place.

I think she’d like you.

You’re around the same age, and she is so pretty.

The girl Skylar had been talking about a few weeks ago—the one she’d wanted to set him up with—was Kris.

One look at Kris and Nate saw she’d deduced what was going on as well because her expression matched his—pure horror.

There was no doubt about it: they were on a matchmaking date.