Page 60 of Pretend Wife
“Really? And that’s why you get all pissy anytime I hug her?” The smile vanished. “I’m only going to say this once. Danielle and I are friends who have zero chance of being more. But that doesn’t mean someone else won’t come sweep her off her feet one day. And when that day comes, it’ll be too late for you.”
My jaw clenched. He wasn’t telling me anything I didn’t know, but I still hated the image that formed in my mind. Danielle wasmine.
Except she wasn’t.
Because I was a coward who’d let my trust issues and past experiences ruin us.
EIGHTEEN
Hayden
As weeks turned into months,I spent every free moment I had with Danielle, basking in her warmth and light.
Everything about her both calmed me down and drove me crazy at the same time. I wanted to taste her, to feel her skin against mine, to explore every inch of her body and soul. I didn’t even want to fuck her at this point. I wanted to worship her.
But I couldn’t. She was waiting for her forever person, and no matter how much I wanted that to be me, my brother was right. Danielle deserved someone who was strong enough to overcome their demons.
So now we were friendswithoutbenefits.
We went to galas and luncheons together. I held her hand in public and kissed her as much as I thought I could get away with and tried to ignore the pit of dread that kept growing in my gut with every day that went by.Our arrangement might be pure, utter torture, but the thought of it ending was even worse.
I glanced at the security footage of my penthouse. Danielle was sitting on one of the giant beanbag chairs she’d added to my living room, her phone pressed to her ear. She’d been on the phone all day, and I was driving myself crazy wondering who she was talking to.
Not that it was any of my business. I was already walking a fine line by watching her through my security cameras. She knew I had them, but knowing they existed and knowing I actively watched her throughout my workday were two different things.
I should probably quit the stalker habit. But what Ishoulddo and what I likelywoulddidn’t always align.
I managed to ignore the cameras for a few hours and actually do the job I was supposed to be doing until I got a notification that someone was at my door. All bets were off then. I told myself that I would be checking that even if Danielle wasn’t there, so I technically wasn’t stalking her by checking the doorbell feed.
Yeah, I didn’t really believe that either.
The image I saw made my fingers clench around the phone and my teeth grind.
There was a man standing in front of my door. A twenty-something-year-old man who was not my brother. He was dressed casually in a muscle tank top and ripped jeans. Longish dark hair was pushed back from a face girls probably found handsome.
Who the fuck was he? And what was he doing at my penthouse when I wasn’t there?
He grinned, presumably atmywife, and then said something while waggling his eyebrows.
A moment went by, and then he placed a hand over his heart in a dramatic gesture of heartbreak.
I was going to break that hand when I got there, which was going to be in approximately fifteen minutes.
He walked inside, and I switched back to my interior cameras. I was not even going to pretend I was doing anything other than blatant spying/stalking now.
Danielle led him into my living room, and they plopped on those beanbag chairs she loved so much.
I watched the two of them talk like they were perfectly comfortable together. He didn’t try to touch her, but that didn’t mean he didn’t want to. Playing the gentleman could just be the first step to seducing Danielle. Besides, she was married for the moment. Whatever they might have would have to wait until her deal with me ended.
Would he wait for her to be done with me? Did she want him to?
And why the fuck did that idea hurt so much? I’d always planned to let her go. But my fucker of a brother was right. Ididwant her back, and I might already be too late.
I killed the view of my cameras and dialed Freddie’s number. He’d been married a grand total of three weeks longer than I had, but I trusted his advice more than Orlando’s.
“Hayden?”
“How do I know if the man my wife just invited into my house is a friend or something else? And if it’s thelatter, how do I make him disappear without her hating me?”
