Page 3 of Playing Pretend

“Then how do you plan on handling being stuck at the same resort for four days? Doesn’t your boss make you do that fun-filled team bonding shit?”

I finish my drink and reach for the wine bottle in the ice bucket on the table. “I’m contemplating a phantom illness. I hear the stomach flu is lovely this time of year.”

“You’re not giving up your vacation. You earned this bonus.”

“Again,” I say, “it’snota big deal. These so-called bonuses always make me feel awkward anyway. Rewarding employees with an all-expenses paid trip alongside their colleagues is counterintuitive. The last thing we want to do is spend more time together. And everyone else brings their partners, which means I’m stuck looking like a spare dick at all those nightmarish team building exercises. Not to mention every meal.”

“I agree. It sounds like a nightmare.” Rome loosens his tie and releases the top button of his shirt. “But you’re still going. You’re not staying home because of Julian.”

“Yes, Dad,” I drawl.

He snickers. “I didn’t know you wanted to call me daddy, too. You should’ve said something sooner.”

Rett chokes on a mouthful of beer as I fight the need to snarl. Rome is determined to get under my skin tonight and I won’t let him. At least not any further.

I refill my glass and return the bottle to the bucket with a hard shove of crunching ice. “If I ever call you daddy, please consider that a sign I’ve lost my mind and put me out of my misery asap.”

“Are you sure?” His voice lowers to a seductive purr. “I’d let you lean real close and whisper it right in my ear.”

“Okay, that’s enough.” Rett chuckles. “Stop fucking with her.”

“We’re only messing around.” Rome takes a lazy mouthful of scotch, his eyes holding mine over the rim of the glass. “Aren’t we, little Pip?”

I ignore him because that ridiculously intense stare of his is doing stupid things to my pulse. Or maybe it’s the alcohol. Either way, this is a slippery slope.

I’m used to the banter and the teasing. Hell, witty repartee is the foundation of our relationship. But that look has never been part of our friendship before.

“Do you know what you should do?” Rett points at me with the mouth of his beer bottle. “Take Rome on the vacation with you. He could pretend to be your significant other and act as a buffer between you and Julian.”

Nope.No way. No thank you very much. “That’s another hard pass for me.”

“Why? He’d ensure there was never a dull moment.”

“Because she couldn’t handle me as a boyfriend,” Rome answers. “Not even if we were faking it.”

I raise a scolding brow. “I could handle you just fine.”

Rett scoffs.

“What?” I scowl. “I could. Rome lives for the ego boost he obtains from shocking women with his dirty little words and his over-exacerbated confidence. But I’ve already heard and seen it all before. I wouldn’t take the bait, so he wouldn’t get to play his games.”

“If I’m so easy to resist then maybe we should do this.” Rome’s eyes narrow as he places his glass on the coffee table, seeming fully invested. “What’s the harm?”

It’s not a question of resisting him. I spent a long time doing that when I was a teen.

It took two heartbreaking years to realize Rome wasn’t an option for me. That I couldn’t even remotely hold a candle to his wildfire appetite. And that I couldn’t risk losing him as a friend.

Rejecting this idea is about awkwardness. About how insanely weird it would be to have my best friend pretend to be my boyfriend.

“Thank you for the offer. But faking the flu is still a far more enjoyable option.” I swing my legs off the table and push to my feet. “I’m starving. Who else wants food?”

CHAPTER2

Rome

I takeanother mouthful of scotch, holding the liquid against my tongue for the added burn as Piper escapes inside to the kitchen.

“That ex of hers is a piece of shit,” Rett mutters.

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