Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 88501 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 443(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88501 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 443(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
“I can’t.” Those two words were rough, like tree limbs snapped in a brutal thunderstorm.
“Why? You’re attracted to me. I’ve felt it in every kiss. In how you look at me.”
Pierce turned away from me so I couldn’t clearly see his face, but what I could make out was pain. “I…believe you can do better than me.”
“Better?” I laughed. It couldn’t be stopped. “How could I do better? You’re handsome, brilliant, compassionate, snarky as hell, and disturbingly honest for a lawyer. I—”
My words stopped when I saw him flinch at the last item on my list. What was he hiding? I mean, I’d always known he was hiding something, but it had physically hurt him to have me describe him as honest.
Sawyer.
This had to do with Sawyer.
My brother was the only person I could think of who had the power to turn Pierce inside out.
“Is this Sawyer’s fault?” I demanded.
Pierce snapped around to face me, and I swore I saw panic in his wide eyes before he could hide it away. “What? What are you talking about? How could this be his fault?”
“I don’t know, but you’ve wanted nothing to do with me since his death. Were you and he secretly dating? Sawyer always claimed to be straight, and he was fucking loud about it, but was he hiding a relationship with you?”
“No! Absolutely not. My relationship with Sawyer was always platonic. He was my best friend. Practically an older brother to me.”
With my teeth clenched hard enough to make my jaw ache, I glared at him. He sounded as though he was telling the truth, but I still struggled to believe it. If Pierce and Sawyer had had feelings for each other, it would have made things weird if Sawyer’s brother was hitting on him. But even if that was the case, all that had happened more than ten years ago. Was it still an issue?
It didn’t make any sense to me.
“I’m sorry.” Pierce’s voice was soft and thin, more fragile than frost in the morning light. He paced to the sitting area and placed his hand on the back of the chair as if he needed the support to remain standing. “I think maybe we’ve gotten caught up in the act that we’re putting on for my parents. This was just meant to be a fake relationship. Nothing more. All I wanted—all we can ever be—is friends. I hope you can accept that.”
“No.”
He flinched again as if I had struck him, and I hated it, but I would not retreat. Not when it meant a life of happiness and love for both of us. Pierce was worth fighting for.
We were worth fighting for.
I didn’t buy his excuse. There was more to what had happened with Sawyer and him all those years ago. Maybe they hadn’t been secret lovers, but there was definitely something else. I could feel it in my damn bones. And Pierce was determined to let it stand between him and happiness.
“You have to be reasonable.”
“No, I fucking don’t. I’ve tried to be reasonable and patient. I’ve tried to give you space to work through things or even reach the point where you were comfortable talking to someone. Preferably me, but hell, Sebastian and Rome would do anything for you. They’d be happy to listen to whatever is eating away at your soul. Before we started this fake dating, I could believe that the attraction and the compatibility were all wishful thinking on my part, but the past week has proved to me that we are great together. You haven’t been faking it with me. I can feel it when you kiss me. I can feel it in the way you smile and how you hold me. This is fucking real.”
I stomped across the room to the bathroom and snatched up my winter coat. Pierce had taken the time to fold up my suit and place it beside my coat on the counter. After grabbing my phone and keys, I stormed out of the bathroom again.
“We need some space so you can get your head screwed on straight. I’m leaving. Your driver can take me home,” I snapped as I brushed past him to grab my violin case from where it still rested on the coffee table.
“Wait! Your clothes!” Pierce called after me.
“Have the suit dry-cleaned for me.”
“But your shoes—”
“Get them polished!” I slammed the door shut behind me and hurried down the hall of his massive home to find a member of his staff.
I knew I looked insane. My hair was a mess, standing up in every direction, and I was wearing his pajamas, which were two sizes too big. Plus, I was only wearing socks on my feet. My coat was under one arm and my violin under the other. But I couldn’t stay. If I did, I would cry, and then I wouldn’t be able to forgive either of us.