Playing Pretend, page 8
Dear Lord. This man has earned his ticket to hell ten times over.
“Are you done?” My voice cracks.
“I wasn’t, but I was close.” He leans in. “So damn close, Piper. All it would’ve taken—”
“Rome,” I warn, succumbing to the pressure.
“—was one more swipe against your imaginary—”
“Rome.” I slap my hand down on the table. “Enough. You’re well aware I’m a visual thinker too. Please don’t scar me for life.”
He slumps back in his seat. “You’re no fun.”
I know. That’s the problem. And I’m sure Julian felt the same way. My juvenile sexual palate doesn’t even brush the outer edges of Rome’s extravagant appetite.
“You should order another drink while I go to the room and get changed.” He reclaims his scotch, throwing back the remaining liquor in one mouthful. “It’s time to make use of the pool. I won’t be long.” He pushes to his feet.
“Don’t rush on my account. It’s clear how much you enjoy being alone in the suite.”
He snickers as he walks away. “I’d much prefer the company if you’re interested.”
He’s playing the boyfriend role. Effortlessly. Flawlessly.
None of this is real.
As he disappears inside I make eye contact with the waitress, smile, and hold up my empty glass. She nods and turns for the bar as Julian stalks past her, making his way toward me.
Shit.
He doesn’t stop until he’s at my table, his expression stony as he yanks back Rome’s chair and claims it as his own. “I thought he’d never leave.”
“Julian…” I sit, stunned. “I told you, I think it’s best if—”
“I heard what you said. But there are things I need to know. Things I deserve to know.” He scoots his seat closer to the table, the metal chair legs scraping across the tile. “How long have you been dating Cavanaugh?”
I glance around the outdoor bar, scanning for eavesdroppers. “I’m not discussing this with you.”
“Why not? You’re more than happy to rub it in my face.”
“I’m not rubbing anything anywhere.” I glower. “I’m doing what you should be doing, which is moving on.”
“I’ve been calling you.” He claps his cell onto the table. “Even while you’ve been sitting here I sent texts. But you’ve blocked my number, haven’t you?”
“Yes.”
His eyes narrow to slits. “Why would you do that when all I want is to talk?”
“Julian, you need to stand up and leave before this becomes more of a situation.”
“What I need is for you to stop being such a haughty bitch.”
I balk. Gape.
“Fuck.” He shoves a hand through his hair. “Look, I’m sorry. I’m not trying to make this a big deal. But don’t you think it’s a low blow to break up with me without a proper explanation, to then bring a guy on our business trip, while also blocking my ability to discuss this civilly?”
“No.”
“No?” He scowls. “That’s it?”
“I don’t owe you another explanation. We’ve been over for months.”
His jaw clenches as the waitress returns, placing another Long Island iced tea in front of me.
“Thank you,” I murmur.
She smiles, then turns her attention to Julian. “Can I get you a drink, sir?”
“No,” I answer abruptly. “He’s leaving.”
She glances between us, her attention finally coming to rest on me with scrutiny. “Is everything okay?”
“Everything is fine.” I nod. “But could you please bring another scotch for my boyfriend? He’ll be back in a minute.”
“Sure thing.” She’s hesitant to walk away, her slow steps giving me the hint she won’t leave me high and dry if I need help.
“Was that meant to be a warning?” Julian scoffs. “Do you think your date intimidates me? Why do you think you and I hit it off so fast in the first place?”
I take another glance around, praying none of our office counterparts are nearby. “What does that mean?”
“Rome,” he states simply. “He was the best damn thing about us.”
My gaze snaps back to his. “Excuse me?”
“Well, I didn’t stay with you because I enjoyed the pitiful sex, if that’s what you thought. I want the Bellefont contract, Piper, and you’re doing a damn good job of messing it up for me.”
All the blood drains from my face.
“Don’t look at me like that,” he seethes. “I’m not a horrible person. Our relationship was real. To begin with, at least. The only thing I did wrong was stick around once I figured it wasn’t going to work.”
“And how long was that?” My question is barely audible.
“I don’t know. A few months.”
All the air leaves my lungs on a rapid surge.
He used me for financial gain? For sexual gratification? For months? “Why would you do that?”
“Why?” he accuses. “Maybe because Rome is all you ever spoke about. You constantly fed me hype about Bellefont and how your friendship meant that you couldn’t get in on the deal to sell anything he built. It became pretty clear you were hoping I’d get the contract so you could at least gain some sort of access to the company’s riches.”
I shake my head. I always speak about Rome because I’m proud of him. Because I admire him.
I would never think, let alone suggest, that Julian should be a realtor for Cavanaugh Sheffield Holdings. Maybe if we became a stable married couple. But in a barely functioning fling? No way in hell.
“From the first day we met you were throwing around his name,” he continues. “You bragged about the multimillion-dollar development he had under construction. Everyone knew you were fishing to find a boyfriend who could earn those commissions.”
My stomach churns as I continue shaking my head. Over and over. “That’s not what happened.”
“No? Then tell me your perspective, Piper. Tell me why almost every conversation came back to Rome? To his success? To the Bellefont development?”
Because he’s my friend.
The closest, non-related person in my life.
He’s my support. My comforter. My comedian. My tormentor.
Rome is everything.
“You need to walk away.” My phone vibrates in the pocket of my sundress. “Now.” I claim the device, holding it under the table as I read the message on screen.
Rome
Put him in his place.
Shit. I glance over my shoulder, trying to find him when my cell vibrates again.
Rome
Put him in his place, Piper, or I’ll do it for you.
No. I can’t have him exposed to this information. To the depths of my nauseating stupidity.
Rome
Make it clear you’re with me. And that I don’t take kindly to assholes who encroach on my territory.
I lock my cell screen without replying and meet Julian’s animosity. “I’m going to say it one more time, and I suggest you listen—we’re over and I’m not going to discuss it anymore. You need to keep your distance. Now, please leave me alone.”
“Why? So you can use him all on your own?”
“I would never use Rome.”
“No?” Julian’s expression turns smug. “So how long exactly have you two been dating? Rumor has it that it’s been a few months.”
I shove to my feet, getting another unkind reminder of how drunk I am when my head spins. “Leave.”
He crosses his arms over his chest, not budging an inch.
“I swear to God, Julian, if you don’t get out of that seat I’ll take this further. I’ll lodge a grievance with Pete. I’ll show him all the missed calls and texts and harassment, because we both know what you’ve been doing is exactly that.”
My cell vibrates again, but I don’t check it. I keep my head high. My jaw locked. I ignore the possible eavesdroppers listening in on our conversation and glare my anger. “Now.”
“Fine.” He takes his time pushing back his chair, his brows raised in contention as he glides to his feet. “But I still plan on making a pitch to Rome, and if he shoots me down in flames because of you, I’ll tell him what you’re doing.”
What I’m doing?
I bite my tongue, holding back the question, unwilling to succumb to the bait and extend this conversation.
“You might even want to put in a good word for me.” He shoves the chair under the table as footsteps approach. Then the possessive arm I’ve become accustomed to slides around my waist, filling me with relief and equal amounts of dread.
“What’s going on here?” Rome asks.
I turn to him, placing my palm on his naked chest. He’s in his swim trunks, two towels wrapped around his neck. Of course he has to look like some sort of muscled Nordic god when he finds out my past relationship only existed because of him. “Julian was leaving.”
His dark eyes analyze me. “Wrong answer, little Pip.” He drags his gaze to my nemesis. “What did you say to her?”
“Nothing she didn’t need to hear.”
Rome’s nostrils flare. He knows. Obviously not specifics. But he’s well aware I’m neck deep in an ocean of ex-boyfriend trauma.
“Ignore him.” I pat his chest, failing to gain his attention. “Please.”
“I’m doing you a favor, Cavanaugh,” Julian snips. “She’s got you fooled. For someone who fucks worse than a dead fish she sure likes to play the field.”
CHAPTER 8
Rome
Piper gasps, the agonized sound adding to my triggered rage.
I snap rigid. “What the fuck did you just say?”
Julian raises his hands in surrender. “I’m not trying to upset you, man. I’m sure it’s no secret she’s a lousy lay—”
Piper whimpers. Fucking whimpers.
“—who only wants your money,” he grates.
I pull her closer, needing to protect her.
She pushes me away. “I have to go.”
“Wait.” I grab for her wrist.
She eludes my grasp with a side-step and strides toward the pool.
Fucking son of a bitch.
I return my attention to her ex, my knuckles throbbing with the demand for retaliation, my pulse thunderous.
“The shitty sex isn’t worth it, man,” he drawls. “She’s sleeping around.”
I lunge, grasp the front of his shirt, and yank him toward me.
A nearby woman gasps as he stumbles, his eyes bugging.
“If this wasn’t a business function, and Piper wouldn’t be affected by my actions, I’d fucking kill you.” But I won’t do that to her. She values professionalism, and I have to do the same despite wanting to slam my fist through this asshole’s throat.
“Jesus, man.” He shoves at my shoulders. “Get off me.”
“You need to learn some fucking manners. How you’ve treated her is—”
“And what about how she’s treated you?” he counters. “Come on. Us guys have to stick together, right?”
“You think we’re buddies? That I give a single fuck about you? You’re a worthless piece of shit who never deserved her. And if I didn’t respect the hell out of that woman, I’d show you exactly what I think of you. Instead, I’m going to make sure you never work in this industry again.”
He grabs my wrist, fighting my hold. “Calm down. I’m doing you a favor.”
“The only thing you’re doing is making a goddamn fool of yourself.” I shove him backward, making him stumble into an empty table. “I suggest you leave the resort and stop announcing to the world that you can’t pleasure a woman. Because the only reason someone is cold between the sheets is when their partner doesn’t know how the fuck to fire them up.”
I slam Piper’s chair under the table and stalk after her as she rounds the far corner of the pool.
“I don’t know why you’re defending her,” Julian shouts behind me. “Don’t you care that she’s cheating on you? That’s she’s already got another guy on the side.”
I stop. Stiffen.
Piper said she never told anyone about her recent date. So how did this fucker get the details?
I clench my fists and swing back to face him. “You think she’s seeing someone else?”
“I don’t think. I know. I saw it with my own eyes.”
“So you’re not only harassing her, you’re stalking her now, too?”
He squares his shoulders. Raises his chin.
Son of a bitch.
I step forward, succumbing to the testosterone surge. I clench a fist. Cock my arm.
“Rome,” Piper’s yell carries across the outdoor area. “Come on.”
Every one of my muscles is rigid. Every heartbeat like thunder. I want to break his jaw. Wrap my hands around his throat. “You’re lucky I love her as much as I do. But if we ever meet again, you’re going to need a restraining order for what I have planned for you.”
I turn on my heel and stalk after my girl. Apart from the slightest pause to make sure I follow, she doesn’t wait for me.
“Piper, stop.”
She keeps trudging toward the building, her gaze downcast, her face red.
“I said, stop.” It’s a warning. A harsh snap as I jog around the pool.
She slows, taking another few steps before planting her feet.
I catch up, briefly skimming my fingers over her arm. “You okay?”
“I’m fine.” She pulls away, her face scrunching with the lie. “I just want to get out of here.”
“And let him win?” I move in front of her, blocking her path. “Fuck that. We’re going for a swim. It’ll help cool—”
“No. I want to go to the room.” She side-steps around me.
“You want to hide.” I grab her wrist. “And I’m not letting that happen.”
“That’s easy for you to say. I bet you’ve never been accused—in public—of being horrible in bed.”
I’m going to fucking kill that asshole.
“He’s right though.” Her voice breaks. “Everything he said is true.”
“Bullshit.” I step closer, inching in so we’re almost nose to nose. “There’s nothing cold about you.”
She glowers. “How would you know?”
“Because when we kiss you burn hot.”
She sucks in a breath, her shock increasing my pulse for more favorable reasons.
“Get in the pool, Piper.”
“No.” She yanks her arm away.
“Get in the goddamn pool,” I growl.
She’s going to storm off. Run. I shouldn’t crave the chase, but I do.
“I dare you to flee,” I taunt. “Attempt to hightail it out of here and see how far it gets you. I’ll have you over my shoulder before you’ve made your third step.”
She backtracks, her eyes pleading for sympathy. “Why are you doing this?”
“Because he’s filled your head with shit that isn’t true. You want to run from something that isn’t there. Something that isn’t real.”
She scoffs and looks away.
“Get in the pool and I’ll prove it to you.”
Her intoxicated gaze snaps back to mine. “How?”
“Get in and I’ll show you.”
“How could you possibly—”
“Get in the goddamn pool or I’m going to throw you in there.”
She glares, her usually hibernating temper waking from a long slumber. We don’t get angry with one another. We might play pretend to prove a point. Act catty to win a verbal sparring match. But actual anger—real, heartfelt madness—is rare.
“Fine.” Her voice breaks again, the fracture killing me.
She storms back toward the pool stairs, palming her cell before she reaches for the hem of her dress. She hikes the material over her head as she moves, dumping it on a nearby lounger.
Fuck. Me.
A two-piece has been hiding beneath that sundress. Black. Phenomenally sexy. Exceptionally revealing.
The triangles covering her tits have a spaghetti thin border that trails along her cleavage, accentuating those fucking gorgeous breasts. And the bottom half? Fuck my goddamn life, it’s nothing but a slip of material down the center held by three more tiny straps that cling around her hips.
I clutch at the towels draped over my neck, fighting the need to readjust my dick, second-guessing the smarts of getting in the pool alongside her.
The threat of my cock tenting my trunks gets me moving. Not even the unhealthy amount of alcohol in my system can dissuade that fucker’s enthusiasm.
I follow her path, dump the towels on top of her dress, then march myself into the water. “Slow down.” I attempt to catch up as she holds her cell above her head, wading into deeper territory.
There aren’t many people out here. A few kids bomb the deep end. One guy floats on his back ten yards away. Three women laugh and gossip near the stairs. A few more soak up the sun on the loungers, but apart from them and the people at the bar, the audience to Julian’s bullshit was minimal.
“Quit running from me.” I lunge, grabbing her hips beneath the water.
“Please stop telling me what to do,” she snaps over her shoulder. “I feel like enough of a child already.”
“You’re not a child.” I encourage her to turn toward me, meeting those sad eyes with a wince. “And I can’t help being protective. I hate seeing you this way.”
“Then let me go do my own thing so you don’t have to see it.” She walks backward, not rejecting my hold as she leads us toward a more isolated part of the pool.
“I’d prefer to help you forget.”
She gives a scorn-filled laugh. “Good luck with that.”
“You don’t think I’m capable?”
She rolls her eyes. “I didn’t say it as a challenge, Rome.”
“Too bad. That response has already been provoked.”
She sighs, finally coming to rest against the far wall, the water lapping at her breasts and drenching the tips of her loose hair as she places her phone on the ledge behind her.
“Why would you let him get to you?” I keep my gaze locked in platonic territory even though my head screams at me to savor all the delights she has on display.
