Page 2 of Playing Pretend

“Your first date in five months is definitely a thing. Did you take him home?” Rome asks.

I roll my eyes. “For starters, five months isn’t a long time, but thank you so much for keeping score. And second, why does everything have to revolve around sex?”

His chocolate eyes gain a teasing edge. “Because sex is important. And it’s been a while since you’ve—”

I clear my throat.Loudly. “There was no sex.”

“Why?”

I’m not having this talk. Not with him. He might be comfortable sharing the intimate details of his high-octane libido, but nope, that isn’t for me. Best friends or not, I draw a line.

“He made it clear that’s all he was after.” I turn my attention to the city skyline over the balcony railing, the lights glistening against the night. “And no-strings sex isn’t what I’m looking for. Some of us don’t sleep around indiscriminately, let alone bounce back to a toxic ex whenever the well runs dry.”

“I think she just swung a low blow at your relationship with Stacey,” Rett drawls.

“There is no relationship. Only casual sex.” Rome smirks. “But what’s got me fascinated is her dry well description. What a delightful visual, little Pip.”

I struggle not to laugh at how easily he backs my flustered ass into a corner.Bastard. “Please stop picturing me naked.”

“I can’t help it. You inserted that image right into my frontal lobe.”

“I think we may have diverted a little off track,” my brother mutters. “Let’s rewind.”

Rome continues to stare at me with a cocky tweak to his lips. “No problem. What’s the issue with casual hookups? No strings can be fun.”

“For some.” I keep my head high despite the discomfort. “It might be easy for you to get your rocks off with strangers, but it takes more than what the average man is willing to invest to get me over the line.”

There. I said it—casual sex isn’t for me because it seems that mercury needs to be in retrograde with all the planets aligned for me to orgasm.

“Does little Pip have a problem—”

“Donotgo there,” I warn, snapping my gaze back to his. “I havenoproblems in the bedroom.”

Morelies, lies, lies.

He pushes from his elbows to sit back in his chair. “That’s not where I was going. If you aren’t reaching climax, that’s your partner’s downfall. I was merely going to state that you’ve had an issue finding the right man.”

How does he do that? Simply sayclimaxwithout blinking. I can’t even think the word while in the presence of others without a little arrhythmia.

“He’s right,” Rett adds. “If you’re not having fun, that’s a partner problem.”

I scowl at my brother. “Thanks for the insight. Now can wepleasetalk about something else?”

He chuckles.

Rome returns to his wicked grin.

God, they’re infuriating.

I wish I didn’t love them so much. That these Friday night sessions after work on the balcony of Everett’s Pacific Palisades home weren’t the highlight of my mundane existence. But despite the awkwardness, they are what I live for.

I’m grateful I have two highly successful men at my back. Who would do anything for me. Maybe even hide my ex’s dead body if asked.

They listen. They encourage. And they treat me like an equal even though they’re living the lives of wealthy property developers while I give myself a mental high-five if I have money left over after paying to stay in my brother’s exceptionally underpriced self-contained unit downstairs.

“Can we revert back a little further to the topic of your ex?” Rett asks. “If he’s still causing problems, what are you going to do about your upcoming work trip? Won’t he be there?”

I groan at the reminder. “Yes, he will.”

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