Page 86 of Playing Pretend

“How can I talk to you when I can’t even look at you?”

I stiffen, her words a brutal slap. “I’m sorry. Whatever it is, I’m fucking sorry.” I shove a hand through my hair. “Just don’t leave. I’ll give you space. I’ll go to reception and get another suite—”

“I don’t want you to get another suite.” She raises her voice, refusing to raise her gaze from my chest. “What I want you to do is start acting like you’re my best friend.”

“Iamyour best friend. I’ve always—”

“Are you?” She stabs a verbal sword through my heart. “Because from my perspective, a best friend would never carelessly risk ruining what we have for a little fun.”

“It wasn’t for fun—”

“You know I’m not the type to play your games. I can’t do friends with benefits, or whatever the hell this is.” She rolls her suitcase toward me, her focus on the carpet. “I’m not your entertainment. I’m not your project to fix. I’m meant to be your best friend. Yet this entire weekend has been nothing but complications and one stupid argument after another. What you’ve done is ruining what we have.”

“Youaremy best friend.” I grab her arm as she attempts to pass me, her muscles stiffening under my touch. I’ve felt that tension before. The shock of contact. But this time, there’s no underlying hint of attraction. This flinch is riddled with friction. With rejection. “This wasn’t merely fun or entertainment.”

“When has sex ever been anything other than entertainment to you?” She twists her arm from my grip. “You’re a guy who’s never had a relationship, and I’m someone who’s never had a successful one, yet you seem to think casually throwing these explicit games into our friendship could be anything other than highly damaging.”

“No. I…”Fuck. Just because we lack experience doesn’t mean we’d be destined to fail. But she’s already made up her mind. And I know her well enough to understand that she won’t backtrack tonight. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I thought…”

“You thought I was enjoying myself.” Finally she meets my gaze, the glassy sheen in her eyes cutting me to the core. “And I was. I enjoyed the way you made me feel. But a best friend should never inspire those feelings.” She lowers her gaze. “I’m not like you, Rome. And I don’t want to be. I value sex. It’s not a cheap and nasty thrill for me.”

Cheap and nasty? That’s how I made her feel?

“We’re two completely different people who should have enough respect for one another not to risk our friendship and our future working relationship with this mess.” She continues to the door, dragging her suitcase behind her. “I’ll see you at home.”

CHAPTER17

Piper

Remorse kickedin as soon as I drove out of the resort parking lot, the pressure of it compounding the closer I got to home.

I made a mistake. I blamed Rome when it was all my fault.

I was the one who went along with his antics. I participated, knowing the risks. It wasn’t anger that fueled me—it was the pain of turning back into that young girl who hung off his every word, unable to speak or even think without the action being claimed by him while knowing he didn’t feel the same way.

Now six days of regret-filled suffering have passed without a word between us.

There have been no calls. He hasn’t texted.

Our friendship has dissolved into radio silence, and I don’t want to risk attempting to fix it when there’s a possibility I’ll only make things worse.

All I had to do was freshen up in the bathroom, then return to the dance floor. I could’ve removed the device. I should’ve told him I didn’t want to partake in the game anymore. I could’ve formed a million different strategies other than creating a huge deal out of something he only wanted to be fun.

Instead, I made it into a thing.

A big, messy, tangled thing that haunts my every waking moment.

Rome will be upstairs on the balcony right now, drinking with my brother like he does every other Friday night, and I can’t bring myself to go up there.

I know I should.

I have to wade through the discomfort and face this mess head-on. I could act as if my outburst was an irrational hormonal meltdown. That it meant nothing. That I stopped the train before the wreck could happen even though my insides are mangled carnage.

I merely overreacted in the heat of the moment.

But I can’t bring myself to lie. Not yet. Not to Rome’s face.

I need to build those emotional walls higher first.

---