Page 55 of Playing Pretend

“I disagree.” An edge creeps into his tone. “And I don’t get why you and Rett keep bringing her up like she’s a significant part of my life. She’s not even a friend. Barely a sexual benefit. She means noth—”

“Shehasbeen a significant part.” I step forward, his hold falling from my waist as I turn to face him. At least he’s wearing a full set of clothes this time. If only he didn’t look effortlessly handsome in his white, collared shirt and tan chinos. “She’s the toxic punishment you turn to when you think you’ve messed up. You ran to her when the Stanfield development went bust. She was in your bed through the supply shortage that almost made you and Rett go belly-up.”

He straightens, his shoulders becoming a wide barrier against the truth. “She’s never been in my bed.”

“I’m not going to argue semantics. You know she’s not a great person. And like the way you felt today, I wish I could wake you up to the reality.”

“I don’t spend time with her for the conversation, Piper.”

I cringe at his callousness. At the sterility. I think their relationship is the only thing that sparks my disappointment in him. Ingrained, crestfallen heartache. He’s so much better than his actions when it comes to her.

“I know exactly why you spend time with her.” I give him a pitying look. “It’s because of her particular kinks.”

His mouth snaps shut.

Yes,Rome, I know.

Rett has told me stories I would’ve preferred he kept hidden. Stories about how Stacey enjoys inflicting pain and not the pleasurable kind.

I’d understand if Rome indulged in that type of kink on a regular basis. I’d tease him over it and roll my eyes when he bragged about his escapades. But he doesn’t brag. He doesn’t breathe a word of those stories and I know it’s because he’s ashamed.

She’s punishment for his imperfections and I hate how he thinks he deserves it.

“Your brother needs to keep his mouth shut.” Rome scowls at the sunset.

“Don’t take this out on Rett.” I throw my champagne into the ocean and let the flute dangle between my fingers alongside my sandals, wishing my brain wasn’t entirely pickled. “You’re allowed to have dark tastes. It doesn’t stop you from being someone that everyone here admires.”

He huffs a snide laugh. “Would their admiration stick if they knew I lost three million on the Stanfield project?”

“Yes.” I nod. “You’d be a shallow piece of shit if you never made a mistake.”

His eyes narrow, his lips kicking with a sexy grin. “There’s that dirty mouth of yours again. Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten the threat I made earlier.”

A heatwave hits my limbs. My neck. My ears.

“An added blush, too.” He raises a brow. “I guess you didn’t forget after all.”

I swallow, forcing myself to roll my eyes. “And here I was thinking you’d stop with the fake boyfriend theatrics.”

He grabs my waist, swings me around to face the sunset, then cuddles in behind me. “I’ll do whatever it takes to change the topic of conversation away from someone unworthy of our attention.”

My skin throbs where we touch—my back, my hips, my ass. I know it’s only hormones. Intoxication. But nobody has ever made me tingle like this.

His chin finds my shoulder again. His mouth tilts toward my ear, his breath delicately teasing my neck. “I’m proud of the way you handled yourself today.”

“You sound fatherly.” I chuckle. “Is that because you’re hoping to brainwash me into calling you daddy before the weekend is out?”

“Behave.” He playfully nips his teeth into my skin. “I was attempting to be thoughtful.”

I keep laughing, trying to disguise the painful way my nipples bead inside my bra. They ache. Throb.

Goddamn you, Rome.

“You handled Julian well,” he adds. “If I were a woman, I would’ve dragged his balls out through his throat.”

“If you were a woman, could you stop playing with yourself long enough to string a sentence together?”

“Probably not.” He snickers. “You’re feisty tonight.”

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