Page 22 of Make Believe

Then it hits me.

McKenna.

No.Rafferty.

I rub my chest as my gaze drifts around the room that’s bathed in early morning light. There’s a gentleness in the soft pastel colors and twinkling glass of the chandelier. I take a few deep breaths and try to slow my heart rate down. As I massage my sternum, I feel the silky satin and lace trim on the negligee I’m wearing.

Rafferty put it on me. He did a lot for me last night.

This was not a part of the plan.

“Shit,” I whisper to myself out loud. What the hell came over me? Deep down, I already know. Another panic attack, like the one I had in front of Logan that started this whole mess.

Except this time no one else saw. No one laughed at me. In fact, Rafferty bullied his way into taking care of me.

And just like that, he’s not McKenna to me anymore. That’s the name he shares with his fuck boi son. Rafferty was the man who gave me another round of mind-blowing sex last night. But then he gave me something else.

His kindness.

Sickness crawls up inside me. I’m not sure how to handle this. I was prepared for him to be a controlling, heartless jerk who wanted his way the whole time. I told myself that would be fine because he’s hot, and I would just suffer through any indignities until I could get the evidence I need. I told myself I was okay whoring myself out for pretty things so long as it brought me closer to my ultimate goal.

But the orgasm was so intense and then the sub-drop frighteningly immediate. Perhaps it was an adrenaline crash? Whatever the case, it left me emotionally defenseless when Rafferty wasn’t cruel…he was kind.

I bite my lip as shameful tears fill my eyes again. My sister has been warning me for years that I need some therapy. She says I have too much repressed shit and that it’s only a matter of time before it starts to leak out, whether I want it to or not. Is that what these panic attacks are?

Both incidents were different, though. Logan humiliated me and made me feel worthless. Then it was the crying itself in front of others that traumatized me more than anything.

With Rafferty…it was when hedidn’tdehumanize me that I broke down. Wasn’t that what I wanted from Logan all along?

Did I cry last night because when I got what I wanted, I felt like I didn’t deserve it?

I think back to Stanley. Sure, we’d hug and stuff after sex, but he was clear that he didn’t like ‘that mushy shit.’ I always thought that I didn’t want that either, but now I’m not so certain.

Maybe I like being a doll because it means that I don’t have any expectations of love or affection. It feels safe. But itfreaked me the hell out that Logan would fuck me, then not even acknowledge my existence when we met in public.

Kind of like how my rich conservative parents act like they don’t have a son at all, at least not one they can be proud of.

Dear lord, I confuse myself. Perhaps Erika is right, and I really should be talking to a shrink instead of concocting elaborate revenge plots. I mean, she’s almost certainly definitely completely right about that. But I’m here now, so I’m not sure how much I can walk it back.

And how ironic is it that the man I’ve painted as my enemy is the only one who’s giving me what I want. Not even that. He’s giving me what I need without me even knowing it.

If Jessie’s friendship and concern were making me uncomfortable, this is in a different league of its own.

I take some more deep breaths and rub my eyes. This—whatever ‘this’ is precisely—isn’t going to be solved right now, no matter how much I try. I’m only here until tomorrow evening, and despite all these frustrating and confusing emotions swirling around my head, I’ve still got a mission to accomplish.

Ignoring the seed of doubt that’s sprouting in my chest, I make the decision to proceed as planned, and that involves being better than perfect and beautiful at all times. Rafferty gave me a pass last night, thanks to my mortifying meltdown. But we haven’t got long together, and I’m determined not to let it happen again.

So I pull the negligee off and fold it under my pillow before getting in the shower. I like the products Rafferty bought for me, so I use those as I make sure every inch of me is scrubbed once more. Then I take my time putting on day serums moisturizers, shimmery lotion, and several hair products. Before I get a chance to worry about going and asking for one, I find a hairdryer in one of the drawers of the dresser. Excellent.

Curls and body sorted, I open up the closet again and allow myself to have a proper inspection of the new clothes. For an older, cis, supposedly straight guy, Rafferty has done an impressive job of spoiling me with some seriously gorgeous threads.

Most of them are the same kind of baby doll design similar to my negligee. But there are also a couple of dresses that wouldn’t look out of place on Bridgerton, a kimono, and a voluminous party dress. As I explore further, I also discover a lot of panties, some bralettes, feather boas, and even a faux fur coat. I’m not vegan or anything, but killing an animal purely for an aesthetic reason seems unnecessarily cruel to me, so I’m glad it’s fake.

I try not to mark it up as another pro point on Rafferty’s imaginary pros and cons list that I’m definitely not keeping in my head.

When I sit down at the dressing table to apply my face, I open up the smaller drawers at the top on a whim. My jaw drops as I realize there are a number of jewelry boxes hidden in there, and I assume they’re for me. They’re mostly diamonds and pearls, but there’s one fancy floral necklace that’s made from several different colored gems. It would have been so easy to make a piece like that tacky, but it’s extremely elegant. I touch it reverently for a few moments before shutting the box lid and focusing on my look for the day.

Rafferty put up with my shit last night, so I feel like I need to get back in his good books. He might have insisted on the aftercare, but he shouldn’t have had to do all that for a fun, no-strings-attached weekend hook-up. So I’ve picked out a mint-green baby doll dress with long, flared sleeves and opulent feathered trimming. It’s a little like the outfit he first met me in, only this one has many layers of silky material, so it isn’t see-through.

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