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Brianna
I t’s almost like living alone—back in my apartment. It’s quiet, there’s hardly anyone in and out all day except for the maid. Michael works so much, he might as well live in his office. We’re barely roommates. It sounds ideal—and I have to admit, I’m getting a ton of work done.
But it’s also kind of lonely.
I miss being around people. After our almost kiss in his office, I’ve been thinking about Michael non-stop. I can smell his cologne around the house. I see reminders of him everywhere. Is this what it would have been like to be married to Chet?
I set my laptop aside and stand from the couch, stretching. Why the hell am I thinking about Chet? He so, so far out of my life it’s not even funny. What is funny, though, is how I don’t have feelings for him anymore. No, wait—that’s not true. I’m still angry with him, and I’m still pissed off that he led me on. But love? It’s gone. Once I found out what kind of person he is, I lost all that love for him. And I’m glad it’s gone.
One day I’ll be able to start over. One day I’ll find love again—I really believe that.
When the elevator dings and I hear Michael’s voice, my stomach jumps. The same way it used to jump when Chet would call me. No way. I can’t be ready to start over again this soon.
But my heart isn’t listening. Michael is kind, thoughtful—a bit of a workaholic, sure, but that’s what he’s used to. And sure, his temper can flare up quick, but that’s not a damning flaw. Especially when it’s because of his possessiveness over my well-being.
I automatically reach up to straighten my hair, and then roll my eyes at myself. Who cares what I look like? Michael’s stuck with me regardless. But that doesn’t mean I want to look like a slob. He always looks so sharp in his business suits and ties. And here I am in my cut-off shorts, my hair in wild curls around my head because I didn’t tame it this morning.
“I was hoping you’d be home,” Michael says when he spots me by the couch.
“Don’t you mean, ‘Honey, I’m home’?”
He grins and steps up to me, almost like this is normal. “Honey, I’m home.”
He surprises me by giving me a quick kiss on the cheek. My heart pounds out of control. And it’s crazy how disappointed I am that he didn’t kiss me on the lips. Or maybe wrap his hand around my waist and pull me close so I can feel every hard line of his body.
“I thought…” I try to focus. “Are you just home for lunch?”
“No. I took the rest of the day off.”
“But—you don’t ever do that.”
He grins. “Sounds like you already know me pretty well.”
Not as much as I’d like. To distract myself, I change the subject. I point to my laptop. “I was just working. Making a website.”
“On that?”
“My laptop? Yes. A computer is required to make a website.”
He rolls his eyes and lifts my laptop to examine it. “It’s…old.”
“Hey—I had to work double shifts for a whole month to pay for it. Don’t disrespect the laptop.”
He passes it back to me. “My bad. Let’s go out.”
“Wait—what? You’re not going back to work?”
“I told you, I took the rest of the day off. Let’s go to lunch. Go shopping.”
“Shopping?” I wrinkle my nose. Sounds great to me, but Chet never wanted to shop with me.
“You need a dress for the charity ball. In fact, you could use several dresses. There are going to be plenty more functions coming up.”
I look down at my clothes and then over at his. “I’m…totally underdressed.” Even for shopping.
He starts toward his bedroom. “I’ll change.”
“No—that’s not what I meant.”
“I want you to be comfortable, Brianna. I’ll change. And if you don’t want to go shopping, I can have someone bring by some dresses.”
“No. I want to.” I get on board quickly. Maybe I can pick up some new clothes, too. I have a little money in my savings account now that I don’t have to pay rent. I can get a few things. “I’ll change.”
I walk off before he can say anything and duck into my room. It’s down the opposite hallway from his, completely separate. In fact, I’ve never even been in his. That’s part of our contract, that we have separate rooms. I’m not sure who initiated it, or maybe Derek did, but it was in the contract I signed.
Why the hell am I thinking about this right now? Of course we have separate rooms. We’re a fake couple. Which means there’s no sharing rooms or sharing kisses…but God, I want him to kiss me.
I should—no, I do—respect him for keeping his space. For being professional. But damn it, can’t he just break down once and yank me to him? Or does he just see me as another job?
Time to remedy that. I find one of my summer dresses—one that shows a lot of leg—and pull my hair up since it’s hot outside. I find the perfect wedges, ones I bought when Deb and I went shopping sometime.
I’m going to have to invite her up here. She knows the whole story, and amazingly enough she’s fine with it. She encouraged me to make a change, and this is part of that change. But she’s the only one who knows. My parents aren’t in the picture—for good reason—and I’m not close enough with anyone else to trust them with this.
Unlike Michael, I’m practically a ghost. He’s already introduced me to his parents, some colleagues and half the staff at our apartment building. There are going to be dozens more at the charity ball as well.
After I’m dressed, I wander back down the hallway, expecting to find Michael in the living room. Instead, I hear his voice down the opposite hallway. He’s talking with someone—probably on the phone. But I’m curious about this side of the house, and for some reason, I can’t help but walk that direction.
I pass his office and don’t see him inside. When I reach the next doorway, I realize it’s his bedroom. I hear his voice before I see him, but when I do, I freeze.
He’s got a towel wrapped around his waist, hair still wet, and phone to his ear. His eyes come up and lock on mine.
I’m sorry, I mouth, abruptly turning in the opposite direction. Damn. I’d invaded his private space. And now all I can see in my head is the image of his chest. Rock hard pecks, toned abs, that sexy V that dips down into his towel and has my mouth watering.
That’s one thing I hadn’t thought about when I’d signed the contract. I’m with Michael and no one else for an entire year, which means no sex. Unless…
Unless we have sex together.
I squeeze my thighs together, imagining how thick his cock is. How good it’d feel to have him slide it all the way inside of me, to pump hard against my hips until I lose myself in ecstasy.
I need a drink. Shopping will work, too. Somewhere out of the house with my brain focused on something else so I don’t keep picturing him naked.
When Michael appears again, dressed in dark jeans and a T-shirt, I apologize immediately. “I should have stayed on my side of the house. I didn’t even think—”
“Your side of the house?” He chuckles. “This whole house is yours.”
“I mean—I meant your bedroom. That’s your space…”
He steps up to me, blue eyes serious. “Do you want it to be?”
My throat dries. “What?”
“I mean, do you want it to be my space? There’s something happening here…” His thumb brushes my mouth, pulling down my bottom lip. “Can you feel it?”
Feel it? I’m feeling everything right now, but especially incessant throbbing between my legs that I know I can’t do anything about.
“We’re doing the right thing,” I whisper, nodding my head, though I’m lying through my teeth. Who knows what the right thing is? “Helping each other and—and being professional.”
“And what if I don’t want to be professional?”
His hand slides down my arm and his fingers splay on my hip. My panties are getting wet, but even so, I keep lying. I have to protect myself.
“That’s the agreement, right?”
His jaw shifts. “There was nothing in that contract that said there couldn’t be more.”
My breath catches. He’s right. I want more—so badly. Right now, I want it all. But I force myself to step back. I’d wanted more with Chet, and look what had happened. We’d dated for two months, moved in together, and got engaged in four months. It happened too fast and I needed to learn my lesson.
“I remember the contract,” I tell him in a dismissive tone, and point to the elevator. “You ready to go?”
His breath releases but I don’t see any other evidence of disappointment. Good. He knows this is for the best.
Michael steps back as well and heads to the elevator. “I’m ready.”