Page 181 of By His Vow

“Tatum, what are you?—”

We dive into the back of the car and fall about in fits of giggles.

Fuck. I needed that. Today has been too much.

“Step on it,” Cory demands, and thankfully, the driver follows orders and pulls away from the curb as the crowd moves closer.

“Oh god,” I cry as we’re thrown back into the seats when he floors the gas and speeds away from the Warner Group building.

“Now, that’s what I’m talking about,” Cory shouts excitedly. “That was fun. You’re like…a celebrity.”

My stomach knots. “I’m really not,” I mutter.

“Didn’t you hear them all calling your name? Girl, you’re the hottest thing in Chicago right now.”

“Please stop,” I beg. “I want to be an invisible thing.”

“Should have thought about that before you attached yourself to the hottest man in the city then,” he counters.

“If only it were that simple.”

“Well, I guess the heart wants what the heart wants,” he swoons.

His brows pinch when I groan.

“What? What am I missing?”

“Not here,” I whisper, shooting a look at the driver, who I’m sure is more than interested in the drama of my life. “Where are we going?” I ask instead, changing the subject.

“Trust me, T. You’re going to love it.”

Cory wasn’t wrong. The small family-run Mexican restaurant is perfect.

We’re hiding down a backstreet with no chance of anyone finding us.

He made sure our Uber driver took an extra-long way here to ensure we lost anyone who might have been following us.

I found it hard to believe that the journalists would go to that length. I’m just me. I’m nothing special. Camping outside Warner Group is easy, but chasing me around the city is something else entirely.

“Oh my god, these are so good,” I slur as the remainder of my most recent cocktail disappears down my throat.

We’ve eaten our body weight in nachos, and my blood is buzzing from the tequila shots and margaritas we’ve consumed.

It’s been perfect.

So fucking perfect.

“I love you, Cor,” I say, wrapping my arm around his shoulders and holding him tight. “You’re such a good friend.”

“Love you too, T,” he says, kissing my temple.

It’s innocent and comforting. Just a friend being there for another friend.

It’s exactly what I need.

Admittedly, I should go home.

My cell has long died, thanks to all the calls and messages. Mostly from Kingston, after I forced him to leave my office.