Page 53 of Fake It Till We Fall
Even if this—whatever it was that we were doing here—felt real…It wasn’t.
He was doing me a favor because that’s what he did. He helped people.
His words didn’t mean anything more. His touches, no matter how they lit me up inside, weren’t real.
He didn’t love me then. Why would he love me now, after all this time? He didn’t even know me.
I forced a smile to my face, in an effort to pretend that the fact he’d stayed single all this time didn’t affect me.
“You know, Harper?” Grayson lifted his wineglass. “You still show every single thing you’re thinking on your face.”
Grayson
We walked backto the room hand in hand. I could lie and say it was because we didn’t know who was watching, and it was important to keep up the ruse of being thehappy couple, but there was no need. When I’d reached for her, Harper slipped her hand in mine as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
And maybe it was, because it sure as hell felt like it.
Neither of us let go as we passed through the impressive lobby with the spiral staircase and the massive river stone fireplace that rose up through the center of the room. We took the elevator up to the top floor, and by the time we’d reached the door of the suite, I knew I wasn’t ready for the night to end.
A fire had been set while we’d been away. Frames crackled behind the glass, warming the room. On the bar, a fresh bottle of red wine and two glasses, along with chocolate-dipped strawberries, waited for us.
“They’ve really gone all out for you, haven’t they?” Harper crossed the room and plucked a strawberry off the plate. “You must be one hell of a volunteer.”
I shook my head with a chuckle. “Like I said before, I’ve been helping out with all kinds of things for longer than I can remember, and I’ve never once been thanked so…well, not with anything more than a card. This is next-level.”
“I’m not complaining.” She placed the berry between her lips. “Oh.” Harper closed her eyes while she enjoyed the treat.
I had to look away. It had been torture enough sitting across from her in that tight black dress all night, with her tits straining against the fabric, and cleavage so deep, it was all I could do to keep myself from imagining getting lost in it.
But to hear her moan with pleasure from a simple strawberry and not pull her up against me so I could taste the sweetness on her lips for myself? It was more than could be expected of me.
I distracted myself by removing the cork from the bottle and pouring two glasses.
“Not ready for bed yet?” Harper asked.
“Not even close,” I admitted. “You?”
She shook her head as she took a glass from me and curled up on the couch, her legs tucked up under her.
I sat next to her, close enough to feel the warmth of her leg against mine. For a while, we didn’t talk, but simply stared into the fire, letting the silence stretch out between us. It wasn’t uncomfortable. Quite the opposite. Just like everything with Harper, it felt easy.
Finally, I turned toward her. “Are you happy, Harper?”
“Right now?” She tilted her head back and laughed a little. “Yes.”
“I’m glad,” I said honestly. “But I meant in general. In life.”
Her brows lifted, and her lips pressed together as she thought about the question. After a moment, she set her wine down on the coffee table and clasped her hands together. “With my career? Yes,” she answered herself. “All I’ve ever wanted is to learn and grow in my craft. I’ve wanted to challenge myself and push myself every day to be better, and I’ve been able to do that.” She looked up at me. “And living on a yacht in some of the most beautiful places in the world has been pretty amazing, too.”
“I bet.” I couldn’t help but smile, but I hadn’t forgotten that she’d also confessed to not having a serious relationship in years. “What about everything else?”
“Everything else?” She reached for her glass again.
“Family,” I said slowly. “A home. A relationship.” I added the last part quietly.
She toyed with the stem of her glass. “It’s complicated, Grayson.”
“I don’t think it is.” When I let her go all those years ago, it had destroyed me. But I’d done it for one reason: so she would be happy. I needed to know whether it was all for nothing. “There’s more to life than a career,” I said carefully. “I’m not trying to downplay the success you’ve had as a chef, Harper. It really is impressive. I’m very proud of you.”
