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When I woke up, Vince was gone. I read the text he sent me, so I knew he was at practice. I changed into a pair of pajamas first and then got to making dinner. I decided to make some fried rice with chicken. I was almost done cooking when I heard the elevator ding open. I called out without turning around, "Vince?"

"Yeah!" he called out.

I didn't turn to look and kept cooking instead. I heard his footsteps before the sound of his duffel bag landed on the counter. "Are you hungry?" I glanced over, hearing him open the fridge.

He was drinking water and briefly nodded when I looked at him. His hair was still damp from the shower he took after practice.

"I made chicken and fried rice. Enough for you, don't worry," I chuckled softly.

He sighed, "I'm exhausted."

I was rooted in one place when I felt his arms come around me from behind, his chin resting on my shoulder as he planted a quick, soft kiss on my cheek. I blinked, turning the stove off and turning to look at him.

He just hugged me quickly, tightening his arms around my waist.

I opened my mouth to say something, anything, but no words came out. I put my arms around him, rubbing up and down his back. His entire body felt tense and he seemed absolutely drained. "You okay?" I asked after a long pause.

He pulled back to look at me and softly shook his head. "No. But yeah, I'm fine."

"You can tell me," I said pointedly.

"I'm just tired, Demi," he chuckled softly.

I eyed him for a minute.

"What?" he asked.

"I'm just worried about you."

"Are you?" he smirked, resting his hands on the counter behind me.

"Of course, I am."

He watched me carefully. "Why?"

I blinked in confusion. "Because I care about you." He didn't say anything, his eyes scanning my face. "Why else would I—"

He took in a breath before holding my cheek in his palm and leaning down to kiss me.

What is happening? What the hell is he doing?

For a minute, my mind and body both went into shock. I had no idea what to do and how to respond because I couldn't figure out why he was kissing me. We didn't have an audience or paparazzi, obviously. And yet I still found myself kissing him back.

I went up on my toes, resting one hand on the back of his neck and pulling him in just a little closer. He deepened the kiss, his hands resting on my hips and I looped my arms around his neck, my fingers running through his hair. I felt his teeth graze my lower lip and I took in a breath of surprise that made him smile.

He pulled away slowly, his hold on me relaxing. He pulled back to look at me and instantly, I felt heat rushing up my neck and to my cheeks.

I touched my lips softly before meeting his eyes. "W-why... why did you do that?"

He blinked. "Practice."

My brows furrowed in confusion. "Practice? For what?"

"The game, day after tomorrow. I thought I should kiss you. After we win."

"So... um, you were just practicing? Without a warning?" I forced a small laugh.

"Sorry. I just wanted to make sure I could do it after the game."

I held his gaze, nodding slowly while trying not to feel hurt. I have no right to feel hurt, this is what I signed up for. "Um, have a seat. I'll serve dinner."

"You should sit," he replied. "You cooked it. I'll serve."

"Yeah, okay," I mumbled, sitting on the other side of the counter. I watched as he served the dinner, sliding one plate to me before taking out two glasses, filling mine up with iced tea, which is what I usually drink with dinner, especially lately. I guess he noticed. He took water himself and sat across from me. We ate in silence before I sighed, looking up at him. "Vince."

He looked at me. "Yeah?"

"Did you really just kiss me for practice?"

He paused, holding my gaze. "Yeah," he shrugged, "why else would I kiss you?"

Ouch.

But I suppose he's right. Why else would he kiss me?

I nodded slowly. "Right. Why else would you kiss me?" I chuckled softly, "Sorry. Dumb question."

"What did you think I was going to say?" he questioned.

"Hmm? Nothing. I didn't know, that's why I asked. I was just confused. It was unexpected."

He eyed me warily.

"I didn't think of anything else," I rushed to say, "I know what we're doing and I know it's fake. I didn't think of what you're probably imagining." I shook my head. "We're not really together, I know what we're doing."

"What are we doing, Demi?"

I swallowed. "We're lying."

He blinked a few times.

"To the public," I added casually.

He nodded slowly.

"Don't worry." I forced a smile. "I know this isn't real."

He paused, falling in thought. "Do you think it ever could be?"

I stopped chewing and looked right at him. Is he testing me? I swallowed down my food before shaking my head. "No. You asked for a fake girlfriend. I won't throw anything else on you. This isn't real, it won't be. I know that. Am I... wrong?"

He hesitated and then shook his head, "No."

He hesitated.

"I mean," he cleared his throat, "we'd never like each other like that... would we?"

"Would we?" I turned the question on him. "I doubt it," I mumbled, calling myself a liar in my mind. I already liked him more than I should, I couldn't avoid it.

"But we slept together," he said suddenly. "That wasn't for show."

"No, but..." I chuckled dryly, "What do you want me to tell you, Vince?"

"I want," he paused, "I want you to tell me how it feels when I kiss you."

"Why? It won't change anything."

"No," he said slowly. "But I want to make sure this isn't too much for you."

"Are you worried?" I teased, hoping to lighten the mood.

"Of course I am."

"Why?" I asked, mockingly.

"Because I care about you," he replied.

"Ha-ha," I said sarcastically, rolling my eyes.

"I'm not kidding, Demi." We stared at each other for a long minute. "I do," he nodded, "care about you."

"Since when?"

He chuckled softly to himself. "Since I realized I liked you more than I should. More than I like the average person. More than any other assistant. Actually, no. Probably since you became my assistant."

"Liar," I laughed, "you didn't give a damn about me at first."

"That's not true. How do you know how I felt? How do you know how I feel?"

I rolled my eyes, deciding to change the subject. "I want to know why you hired me. I know there were other options, better options, girls with more experience. You made the final call and chose me. Why?"

"Because you had the determination others didn't. Everybody else seemed like they would take any job they got. I know you would too, but you didn't let it show. In the interview, you answered every question in a way that made it seem like you wanted this job. Really wanted it. That's why I chose you."

"Do you have any idea how scared I was for that interview? I was fresh out of college, looking for my first real job, I came in for the interview, and nobody told me you would be there for it yourself. I thought I would die if I failed it. You were so intimidating, Vince."

"Was I?"

"Yes! Oh my god, you were throwing daggers at me."

"I look at everybody like that, come on."

I scoffed, rolling my eyes while smiling. "You were scary."

"Well, do I still scare you?"

I smiled, "No."

But how I feel about him does. It terrifies me.

"Not even sometimes?" he asked, lifting a brow.

I shook my head. "Nope." I thought about it. "You know, you've never yelled at me, apart from one occasion."

"When did I yell at you?"

"In New York. The morning after. When you came into my room, that was the first time you yelled at me," I answered.

"I shouldn't have yelled at you. We were both equally responsible and I threw all the blame at you. I shouldn't have done that."

"I don't blame you. You were wasted and you woke up to your entire reputation on the line and your personal life spilled out into articles. Anyone would flip out."

He shook his head softly. "I still don't understand how we let it happen. Why did we do that, Demi?"

I met his eyes and gave him a small shrug. "Maybe we both were just needy that night."

"I don't think so," he shook his head. "I think we both finally stopped holding back that night. We let it go. The only thing we did wrong was we got drunk. And we didn't realize what the consequences would be."

"What did we let go?" I questioned.

"Come on, Demi, why are we beating around the bush? We weren't just needy that night. We wanted each other. We didn't want someone, we wanted each other."

"Do you really think one night of wanting each other was worth everything we went through after that?"

He stood up, taking his empty plate and glass, rinsing them off, and placing them in the dishwasher before turning to me. "Who says we only wanted each other for one night?"

I blinked, watching him as he rounded the corner and walked up to me, taking my dishes and putting them in the dishwasher as well, turning it on and sitting back down. "What are you getting at?" I asked, resting my arms on the counter.

He shrugged. "I wanted you. Not because you were there and it was convenient. Because you're pretty, you're there for me and around me, because you're... you. I wanted to sleep with you. That's what I'm getting at. And not just that night. I meant what I said in the interview with City Scoop. Everything changed after that lunch with my mom. I really wanted you. And then I had you."

"And then everything fell apart," I whispered.

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