Page 48 of Pretend for Me

I swear, the universe is testing my resolve today, asking if I’mreallyfucking sure about my decision.

Stepping outside, she sways her hips toward the cabinet with the towels, getting one out with practiced ease. The realization that she’s been out here before, likely while I was out of town this week, hits me like a punch to the gut. My mind conjures up images of her lounging around the pool in the same scant attire and has a possessive anger rising inside me.

I make a mental note to tell my security team to turnoff the camera to the pool, my molars grinding at the thought of anyone else getting an eyeful of what’s mine.

She’s not yours, jackass,an internal voice reminds me, but I wave it off like a pesky fly.

I perch on the edge of a lounge chair, my body taut with anticipation as I watch her drop her towel on the chair next to mine before she heads to the edge of my pool.

With a gentle touch of her toes, she tests the water. Satisfied, she slowly descends each step, each movement illuminating the pool from within by underwater lights, glowing like liquid sapphire around her.

The water caresses the contours of her lithe body, creating ripples around her. Taking a breath, she fully submerges herself into the water before coming back up for air, propping herself up on the edge nearest me. My hands white-knuckle my lounger as I watch droplets of water roll down her face and neck, clinging to her skin, before reluctantly falling to the concrete under her folded arms.

“God, this water feels incredible,” she murmurs, running her tongue over her wet lips. Her mouth curves up as she assesses me. “Want to join me?”

I shake my head, swallowing. “I’m good right here, thanks.”

Piper juts out her bottom lip. “Oh come on, Lex. How often do you get to enjoy the things you’ve worked so hard for?”

Her words strike a nerve, conjuring up the imposter syndrome I’m constantly battling, reminding me that everything I have—this life, this wealth, my career—was given to me by my father. None of it is truly self-made, since all of it comes from a life of privilege . . . something I was born into.

And maybe it’s for that same reason I never really enjoy anything I have. It’s for that reason that I can’t remember thelast time I took a vacation, watched a movie, or hell, swam in my enormous swimming pool.

Sure, I’ve worked my ass off over the years, tried to move out of Dad’s shadow and run things my way, but the fact remains: neither my schooling, my lifestyle, nor my position as CEO ofMenon Inc.would be possible if he hadn’t started it in the first place.

A fact he never shies away from reminding me. A fact he reminded me of multiple times last night when he tried to “knock some sense into me” during our private conversation in his office.

He’d insisted we had an image to maintain. That being with an “uneducated” spouse contradicted my own pursuit of education, and undermined what our family stood for.

What he was not saying, but I comprehended nonetheless, was that it underminedhim. His authority, his reputation, and all that he’d given me.

Still, Iremindedhim, without losing my temper the way I wanted to, that I didn’t give two shits about the kind of image he wanted me to uphold. That education wasn’t measured in degrees, and that Piper’s intelligence, kindness, and passion for life gave me a kind of perspective I never found in a textbook.

And while I was pretty fucking polite that time around, even my patience has a limit.

My eyes stay transfixed on the beautiful bombshell in front of me, looking at her as much as I’m looking past her.

What must it be like to just let go? To not carry the weight of anyone’s expectations but your own on your shoulders? To just . . . be?

Piper pushes to her back, floating gracefully as she gazes up at the dusky sky with wide eyes. “It’s beautiful out here this time of night,” she muses, her arms and legs splayed out in the water as ripples trace her toned stomach. “And it’s here, withmy ears submerged under the water and my body above it, that I find peace.”

My eyes track down her body again, my fists tightening around the edge of my seat as if it’s the only thing tethering me to my spot.

“The funny thing is,” she flicks a glance at me, “I’ve never liked the quiet. It always unnerved me, made me feel like I was stuck with my own thoughts. But things seem to be changing recently . . .” Her eyes meet mine. “I’m finding that the quiet and the controlled have a gravitational pull I can’t seem to resist.”

Water cascades down her body as Piper comes to a stand in the shallow end, fixing her eyes on me. There’s a newfound intensity that’s a departure to the mischief that’s usually stirring within them.

Her chin lifts and she raises her hand, beckoning me like the siren she is. “Come on, big guy. I promise to save you if you start to go under.”

And once again, like the chump I am when it comes to this woman, I throw caution to the damn wind and let her convince me.

Going under might be the only way I survive this.

eighteen

dev

You Should Come With A Warning Label

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