Page 5 of Playing Pretend

“Would it be so bad if I wasn’t pretending?” I hold his gaze through the shock slackening his features. “What if it didn’t end once the weekend was over?”

He blinks at me as if he’s just caught me fucking his mom on the hood of my Porsche.

I can’t blame him. This is little Pip, after all.

She taught me how to braid her hair when she was in prep school.

I taught her how to drive, how to defend herself, and almost everything she knows about football.

“I’ve had feelings for her for a damn long time.” I ignore the cement weighing down my gut. “If I go away with her—”

“Why the fuck haven’t you said something?”

I lean forward to snatch the bottle of Macallan off the table. “Because the two of you are all I’ve got and I don’t want to be responsible for fucking that up.”

He pushes to his feet to pace the balcony, striding from one wrought-iron balustrade to the other. “I can’t believe you kept this from me.” He stops and eyes me. “Frombothof us.”

“Transparency wasn’t an option.”

He returns to pacing. Back and forth. Back and forth.

I chance a glance inside, finding Piper filling her arms with family-size chip bags.

“Why?” Rett pauses again, shoving his hands into his suit pants.

“Why do I like her?” I raise a brow. “Or why wasn’t telling you an option?”

“I know why you fucking like her, asshole. She’s been your best friend forever. What I’m asking is why haven’t you done something about it?”

I huff a laugh. “Let’s begin with how my tastes are somewhat…exotic.”

Not once has it skipped my attention that Piper has started to blush whenever the conversation turns to sex.

If I got her in my bed, I’d eat her alive.Literally. And enjoy every second of it.

Rett screws up his face. “You haven’t made a move because she’s…”

He doesn’t finish the sentence but we both know the applicable options—chaste, vanilla, innocent.

“The possibility of ruining our friendship is one thing.” I pour myself another glass of scotch and dump the bottle on the table. “But the prospect of potentially corrupting her has never sat well with me.”

Or, more accurately, it sits far too well. I picture her in every woman I sleep with. In my mind, I’ve done filthy things to my best friend’s perfect body.

“I can’t believe this.” Rett wipes a rough hand down his face. “I seriously thought you two were just friends.”

“Weare. That’s all we’ve ever been.”

“But you want more,” he counters.

“Yes.” I hold his gaze as her footsteps approach from inside.

The crinkle of chip bags accompanies Piper before she dumps her haul onto the table with a sigh. “Rett, you really need to go shopping. Junk food and sports drinks aren’t the makeup of a healthy diet.”

He doesn’t respond as she reclaims her seat.

Neither do I.

Our second awkward silence in a few minutes—and this one is deafening.

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