Playing Pretend, page 2
“Nothing.”
Not once have I mentioned my feelings for Piper. Not even a hint. The issue is, can I live through any more years denying myself?
His frown deepens. “Rome, just fucking tell me.”
“Would it be so bad if I wasn’t pretending?” I hold his gaze through the shock slackening his features. “What if it didn’t end once the weekend was over?”
He blinks at me as if he’s just caught me fucking his mom on the hood of my Porsche.
I can’t blame him. This is little Pip, after all.
She taught me how to braid her hair when she was in prep school.
I taught her how to drive, how to defend herself, and almost everything she knows about football.
“I’ve had feelings for her for a damn long time.” I ignore the cement weighing down my gut. “If I go away with her—”
“Why the fuck haven’t you said something?”
I lean forward to snatch the bottle of Macallan off the table. “Because the two of you are all I’ve got and I don’t want to be responsible for fucking that up.”
He pushes to his feet to pace the balcony, striding from one wrought-iron balustrade to the other. “I can’t believe you kept this from me.” He stops and eyes me. “From both of us.”
“Transparency wasn’t an option.”
He returns to pacing. Back and forth. Back and forth.
I chance a glance inside, finding Piper filling her arms with family-size chip bags.
“Why?” Rett pauses again, shoving his hands into his suit pants.
“Why do I like her?” I raise a brow. “Or why wasn’t telling you an option?”
“I know why you fucking like her, asshole. She’s been your best friend forever. What I’m asking is why haven’t you done something about it?”
I huff a laugh. “Let’s begin with how my tastes are somewhat…exotic.”
Not once has it skipped my attention that Piper has started to blush whenever the conversation turns to sex.
If I got her in my bed, I’d eat her alive. Literally. And enjoy every second of it.
Rett screws up his face. “You haven’t made a move because she’s…”
He doesn’t finish the sentence but we both know the applicable options—chaste, vanilla, innocent.
“The possibility of ruining our friendship is one thing.” I pour myself another glass of scotch and dump the bottle on the table. “But the prospect of potentially corrupting her has never sat well with me.”
Or, more accurately, it sits far too well. I picture her in every woman I sleep with. In my mind, I’ve done filthy things to my best friend’s perfect body.
“I can’t believe this.” Rett wipes a rough hand down his face. “I seriously thought you two were just friends.”
“We are. That’s all we’ve ever been.”
“But you want more,” he counters.
“Yes.” I hold his gaze as her footsteps approach from inside.
The crinkle of chip bags accompanies Piper before she dumps her haul onto the table with a sigh. “Rett, you really need to go shopping. Junk food and sports drinks aren’t the makeup of a healthy diet.”
He doesn’t respond as she reclaims her seat.
Neither do I.
Our second awkward silence in a few minutes—and this one is deafening.
“What’s going on?” She tears open a bag of chips. “What did I miss?”
I keep my mouth shut.
He wouldn’t tell her. Would he?
“I want Rome to go on this vacation with you.” Rett holds my stare, his expression unreadable, his posture tense.
What the fuck is he doing?
“Why are we still talking about this?” she says around the casual crunch of food.
“Because it’s important.” Rett drags his gaze to Piper while I focus on the moon rising over his shoulder, not wanting to witness her reaction. “You deserve this.”
“I deserve a lot of things, brother. But sometimes we don’t always get what we want.”
My lips twitch at the subtle snub. She’s talking about the career we promised her at our property development firm—Cavanaugh Sheffield Holdings. The one she still has another eighteen months’ worth of experience in real estate to gain before it’s hers.
“Then let’s make this interesting.” Rett sits. “If you can successfully spend the weekend with Rome as your significant other, then you can get early access to your position within our company.”
“Rett,” I warn.
“Are you serious?” Her voice turns breathy.
Fucking hell.
“One hundred percent.” Rett nods. “You’ve already kicked a lot of goals in your career. This can be your opportunity to prove you’re ready for the next step. That you can handle working close to Rome.”
I appreciate the blatant permission to pursue his sister, but dangling this position in front of her isn’t fair.
We had an agreement. All three of us.
Piper needed to work in real estate for four years, gaining market knowledge as well as build relationships with contractors, agents, and financiers before she could claim a senior role. We thought it was best for her to join the team with experience. To come onboard as more of an equal.
“Put it this way,” Rett continues. “If you can maintain your cool around your colleagues while Rome is putting you through the ringer, you deserve the job.”
Blood pounds through my veins. She won’t be able to handle me. Not like this. Not when I now have an excuse to push all her limits. To break down her walls and show her the value of her sexuality.
She huffs a breathy chuckle. “I already told you, I can hand—”
“I won’t make it easy.” I hold her gaze, loathing and loving the eager gleam in her deep ocean eyes. “I’ll be there to keep your ex at bay, but I’ll also test how you handle pressure. I’ll make you uncomfortable and—”
“You couldn’t make me uncomfortable.” She drops more chips into her mouth.
“Says the woman who blushes whenever a conversation revolves around my bedroom skills.”
On cue, her cheeks darken. Her jaw ticks. “Well, I assume there would be rules. I’m not going to agree to something that puts me in an unprofessional situation.”
“I wouldn’t need to act unprofessional to make you bristle, little Pip.”
She scowls.
“See?” I smirk. “It’s too easy to rile you.”
“Of course it is after three glasses of wine, along with the frayed nerves from having to listen to you regurgitate your C-grade porn profile.”
“Ouch.” I clap a hand to my chest. “Surely I’m an A-minus at worst. Ask any woman I’ve slept with. They’ll tell you.”
Piper rolls her eyes. “I’d be surprised if you knew what any woman wanted.”
“I guess you’ll find out next weekend when I’m your boyfriend.”
Her eyes narrow, her thoughts loud as she stares. She wants to give in, to take the challenge.
I know it’s because she’s hungry for this job, that the temptation is too great. But a part of me wants to think it’s for other reasons. That she’d like to experience being mine for a weekend. That she’d love the opportunity to get up close and personal.
She cocks her head to the side. “This isn’t a five-star resort. Will someone of your wealth and privilege be able to handle a room without a private butler?”
“I’m sure I can manage.”
“You’d need to pack a suit. The boss usually schedules a formal event on the last night.”
“He lives in a suit,” Rett drawls.
“And arrive at the resort on your own,” she adds. “I want separate cars so you can’t taunt me the entire drive there.”
She also wants a backup plan in case she needs to send me packing, but that’s fine. “I can handle that.”
She falls silent, the seconds ticking by with my thundering heartbeats.
“Have we made a deal?” Rett asks.
She doesn’t respond. Doesn’t break our gaze.
Come on, Pip. Say yes. Give me the green light to make you mine, even if only for one weekend.
She clears her throat, nervously licks her lower lip, then focuses on her brother as she says, “Yes, we’ve got a deal.”
CHAPTER 3
Piper
I pause at the bottom step leading to the entrance of the Laguna Beach resort.
I spent the last two and a half hours stuck in traffic, giving myself a pep talk about thick skin. I won’t let Rome get to me this weekend. I’m going to take the opportunity to claim my dream job early and run with it.
I won’t lose.
I pin my shoulders back, raise my chin, then drag my suitcase up the three stairs and into the lobby.
The pretty female receptionist greets me with a smile. “Welcome to the Garden City Resort. How can I help you?”
“I have a room booked for Piper Sheffield.”
“Ahh, yes.” She types into her computer. “Your companion has already checked into your suite. But I can give you a second room card if you’d like.”
I raise a brow. “Rome is already here?”
Of course he is.
I deliberately told him I’d arrive right before dinner because I wanted to get here first to slip the receptionist a fifty in the hopes of getting our room changed to a double. I also planned for the extra time to gain my bearings.
He saw straight through me.
“Yes, ma’am.” The receptionist nods. “He arrived about an hour ago.”
Dammit. “And I assume you fell for his hypnotic charm, seeing as though he gained access to the room even though his name isn’t on the reservation.”
Her eyes widen. “I’m so sorry. He said—”
I wave her away. “It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.”
If I had a dollar for every time Rome worked a woman around his little finger, I’d be able to ditch this charade and live off the excessive income.
“I truly am sorry.” She slides over the room card. “But he really sold how special this weekend is for the two of you. And when he paid for an upgrade to a king suite, I just assumed…”
“A king suite?” My pulse stutters. “By any chance did he request separate suites first? Or split beds?”
“Just the king suite. Room 305.” Her gaze narrows. “Is that a problem?”
I would’ve thought that if he was inclined to make changes to our room’s configuration it would’ve been to separate the beds. But who am I to begrudge the upgrade when he’s going to be sleeping on the sofa?
Lord knows I’m not spending my nights beside a man who’s never slept in anything other than his birthday suit.
Nope.
No, thank you.
“There you are.” Rome’s voice carries from close behind me, the casual cadence of his steps approaching.
I ignore him and smile at the receptionist as I claim the room card. “The king suite is fine, thank you.” I turn to grab my suitcase handle and there he is. Right there. I bump into him, my free hand clapping against his chest as I stumble.
“I’ve got you.” His arm slides around my waist, holding me against his white button-down as he drags me a few feet away from the counter, his light clove aftershave filling my lungs.
Gripping my wrist would’ve sufficed, but his hands-on approach was expected. Predictable. I knew he’d try to unsettle me at the first opportunity.
“Rome,” I say in greeting, deliberately suppressing any sign of protest to his touch. “I told you to arrive closer to dinner.”
“Yes, you did.” He inclines his head. “But you also said it was because you wanted to arrive at a similar time. The thing is, I called your boss this morning and he said the office was closing at lunch so everyone could participate in early evening drinks at the bar. I assume the change of plans slipped your mind.”
I inch back, extracting myself from his embrace. “You called my boss?”
“I’m nothing if not completely thorough.”
Son of a bitch is playing hardball.
“Pete was excited to hear I’m your plus-one.” He leans in, placing a kiss at my temple.
I freeze. Blink.
The contact with my boss is one thing but that brush of lips is entirely another.
“What’s wrong?” he asks. “You look startled.”
I clear my throat, taking a few extra seconds to regain composure. “I’m just waiting for you to break out in hives. Aren’t you allergic to public displays of affection?”
“Somewhat.” He snickers. “But I plan to spend the next three days desensitizing myself.”
Like hell he is.
“We need to talk.” I grab my suitcase handle and stride toward the elevators.
“What about?” He matches my pace, his fingers sliding over mine in a gentlemanly gesture to claim my luggage.
“The rules.” I move my hand away.
I shouldn’t be surprised he brought his A game. I just didn’t think he’d be so invested in seeing me fail.
He’s never been eager for me to claim my position at Cavanaugh Sheffield Holdings. And I get it. Complications could arise. But I’ve more than proven I’d be an asset.
“I already know the rules.” He stops before the wall of elevators and presses the call button. “I need to remain professional.”
I smile, sugary sweet. “We’re going to need a lot more stipulations than that if you’re going to live through the night.”
He smirks. “Don’t tell me you’ve decided this isn’t going to be easy after all.”
“It’s still going to be easy. I just don’t want it to be humiliating.”
“Admit it—you’re flustered already.” He turns to me, peering down with lazy bedroom eyes as he reaches out to guide a stray strand of hair behind my ear. “And I’m only getting started.”
My throat dries.
It takes every ounce of control not to drown in a teenage resurgence of misguided chemistry. Instead, I chance a quick glance around reception, making sure none of my colleagues are around before I smack his hand away. “Stop it.”
He snickers. “Why? Aren’t I allowed to help my girlfriend keep hair off her beautiful face?”
My stomach does an awkward twist at how easily girlfriend tumbles from his lips. “You’re being a brat.” The elevator to our left opens and I stalk inside. “This might be fun for you, but don’t forget this is my work.”
He follows and moves to stand in front of the control panel to press number three. “This is work for me, too. It’s important that I determine how you function under pressure.”
“I function just fine.”
“Your honor, the current evidence would disagree.” He leans back against the side wall, casual and composed as ever.
He’s put extra effort into his appearance today. The expensive suit pants and button-down are a deliberate show of wealth. The top two buttons of his shirt are open for visual appeal, along with the tousled hair that frames his eyes.
“I’m not going to have a problem getting through the next three nights with you, Rome. However, there will be strict ground rules. We’re not playing this game at the cost of my current job.”
“Since when is this a game? Rett offered you a chance to work with us earlier than previously agreed. But that comes at a price. You need to prove you’re ready. That you can handle whatever I throw at you. Because in a fast-paced, multi-million-dollar work environment I can assure you there are going to be more shocking things to deal with than a chaste peck to the temple.”
Heat blooms beneath my sternum.
I need to get a damn hold of myself.
“Being a realtor is one thing,” he continues. “Dealing with billionaire investors who tend to see women as nothing more than a distraction is another.”
“I know what powerful, middle-aged men are like. I’ve dealt with them before.”
“Not at our level you haven’t.”
I cross my arms over my chest. “So that’s the role you’re playing this weekend? A middle-aged chauvinist who sees me as a piece of ass?”
“Not at all. I’m your boyfriend. I’m merely trying to explain why I’m not going to make this easy.”
“Well, I won’t stand for you humiliating me in front of my colleagues.” The elevator doors open, allowing me to escape into the hall. “These people are my friends.”
“I’m not going to humiliate you.” He follows, taking the lead toward the suites. “But I have every intention of testing you.” He stops before room 305, grabs his card from his pants pocket, and places it against the security panel.
“Test all you like.” I exude confidence I seriously don’t feel. “I can—”
“Piper?” a familiar voice calls.
I turn to the stretching hall and find my friend—the office marketing manager—walking toward us in a flowing blue sundress, her attention affixed on Rome. “Hey, Cassidy.”
She pauses a few feet away, her face brightening. “I didn’t realize you were bringing someone.”
I swallow back my unease. I had a script prepared for how to address this, but now that my fake boyfriend has already spoken to my boss, I’m not sure how to proceed. “It was a last-minute change of plan.”
“Blame me. I refused to endure a weekend without her.” Rome places my suitcase against the door to hold it open, then offers Cassidy his hand. “It’s nice to meet you. I’ve heard great things.”
They shake, as Cassidy glances between us, her eyes wide with excited scandal when they hit mine.
“This is Rome,” I offer as their hands part. “Rome Cavanaugh. I’m sure I’ve spoken to you about him before.”
“The Rome Cavanaugh.” She beams at him. “Yes, of course she’s spoken of you. All the time, actually. I just didn’t know you two were a couple.”
“It’s new.” I rub my sweating palms together. “Very new. And I’m pretty sure I’ve only ever spoken about him in a business sense.”
Rome’s lips twitch. “Don’t worry, gorgeous. I’m flattered.”
Gorgeous?
Heat blooms in my betraying cheeks as I bite back a retort.
