Faking It (10 page)

“Nnh…?”

“Shh,” he whispered. “I’ve got you. Go back to sleep.”

She nuzzled into him, and in that moment he understood why Aaron had warned him to be careful. She had a tight clutch on him, her grip wrapped right around his heart, and he wasn’t sure how tight her hold was.

And he didn’t know what to do about it.

He elbowed the door open and carried her up the elevator, then fumbled her keys from her purse with two fingers and let himself into her apartment. He took her directly to her bedroom and laid her on the bed. The little cubicle of a room was a mess—clothing piled everywhere, little Post-It notes stuck all over the wall by her postage stamp of a desk, a lamp teetering over an ancient laptop. And next to the desk, in the outlet?

A pink
My Little Pony
nightlight.

He stifled a laugh and averted his eyes. He had no business being here, snooping around her room. He started to work the blankets out from under her limp body so he could tuck her in, but she jerked awake with a drowsy sound. She blinked at him—then stiffened, her eyes widening. She sat up, clutching his jacket around her. Their eyes met. Neither spoke. The moment felt like glass; tip it either way and it would break.

“Derek?” she whispered, and he wasn’t wholly sure what she was asking. Wasn’t wholly sure how to answer, only that there was a questioning need in her eyes that made him wonder if she knew. If she knew how much he had to fight to hold himself back, to keep from pushing too far, too fast, when he could end up hurting her. It was harder still when Aaron had given his unofficial blessing—or at the very least an unspoken promise to butt out.

And if he gave in now, if he ruined the easy comfort growing between them, he would be undermining everything she’d worked for. She needed a friend. A business partner. Someone to support her until this ordeal was over.

Not someone who could think of nothing but kissing her until she forgot work entirely.

He licked his lips. “I was just leaving,” he said hoarsely. “You fell asleep in the cab.”

“Don’t,” she murmured. “Don’t go.”

When she looked at him that way, he couldn’t remember why he shouldn’t stay. He leaned closer, bracing his hands on the bed. Her mouth was so ripe, begging to be kissed, bitten, licked. The taste of her was already seared into him, but he needed so much more.

But the ring’s hard shine drew his eye. The ring that symbolized their false engagement, which was starting to feel all too real. He couldn’t do this. Not until he figured out what he was doing, what he was feeling, and whether or not it was more real than the lie that had begun this.

Her lips trembled under his, testing his willpower, but he turned his head and kissed her cheek. Her eyes closed, and she let out a softly disappointed sound.

“Goodnight,
bella
,” he said…then walked out as if the hounds of hell were at his heels.

Chapter Ten

Stephanie squinted at her computer screen, but the words remained a blob of incoherent letters. Sighing, she rubbed her temples and dropped her head back against her desk chair. How long had she been at this? Four hours? Five? Seven hundred?

Her desk phone buzzed. She reached for it without opening her eyes. Probably Aaron. Derek hadn’t called since he’d taken her home last night, then run away. She wasn’t sure what to make of him. What to think. One second he kissed her; the next he obtusely ignored her advances. She’d asked him to stay.

And he’d kissed her cheek like her damned brother, then left.

If she wanted kisses on the cheek from ridiculously handsome men, she’d have a gay best friend.

Either he was stupid, really was too stuffy for his own good…or she was falling for the “charming fiancé” act a little too easily and he really wasn’t interested in her. She knew he wasn’t stupid, so that left Door Number Two or Door Number Three.

She lifted her phone to her ear. “Hello?”

“Is your fiancé still in town?” Rodgers barked.

Stephanie sat up straight. “You mean my fake fiancé, sir?”

“Is he or isn’t he?”

“He is.” She sighed. “Why?”

“We have another meeting scheduled tomorrow. A lunch. Make sure he’s at the Plazo at twelve sharp.”

She ground her teeth together. “You do know eventually he’ll have to leave. He has a life elsewhere.”

“Then you’d better hurry up and seal the deal.”

Yes, sir. Of course, sir. Let me lick your boots while I’m at it, sir.
“Can’t we just say he’s away on business?”

“Wheeler requested him specifically. He has to be there.”

Wheeler
was starting to get on her damned nerves. There was respect for family values, and then there was nosy obsession. It was like he was trying to catch her in the lie, and just setting up chances for her to slip up.

And Derek had already gone above and beyond anything anyone could have asked of him.

“I’ll talk to him,” she muttered grudgingly.

“You’ll do more than that. This is long-term, Ms. Miller. Find a way to make that man stay, or pack your desk. Do what you have to. If Wheeler finds out we lied, we’re finished. Not just the Weyland Project. If this goes public, the media will overhype it as a scam or investment fraud—which will kill our market share. Understood?”

She hated how he always asked that. She wondered if he understood that this entire situation was his fault—the lie, all of it. But he was making her take the fall, and putting the responsibility entirely on her shoulders.

She clenched the phone tight and pretended it was his neck. “Yes. Sir.”

He hung up on her. She came close to throwing the phone across the room. Sighing, she glanced at the time. God, it was eight thirty in the evening, and she was still at the office. She fished out her cellphone and texted Derek.

Busy?

He responded within a minute.

Aaron. Beer. Still at work?

Yes.

Sounds like you could use a beer yourself.

I’ll be there in twenty.

She made herself presentable in the office bathroom, then took a cab home long enough to stop by her landlord’s apartment. He answered before she even finished knocking.

“Rent?” he grunted.

“All paid up.” Stephanie passed the check over—and got a door slammed in her face for her troubles. She sighed.

Charming.

At least that was one monkey off her back. She’d had to sell a few of her nicer dresses, holdovers from her college days when her scholarship money had seemed infinite and she’d thought she’d needed pretty things for job interviews. A few of her paintings, too, had gone to the pawn shop. Combined with her meager paycheck, she had enough to cover her rent, groceries, and utilities, while leaving a few bucks to donate to the local food bank. It wasn’t much, but it was something.

But if something didn’t change soon, she didn’t know how much longer she’d be able to scrape by on a temp’s salary. She needed to seal this deal. That meant she needed Derek.

She took her time on the walk to the bar. She couldn’t help twisting the ring on her finger. It was a constant reminder of her lies. A constant reminder of the one man she couldn’t seem to get out of her head.

That man was currently sitting across a table from her brother, with a frothy, nearly untouched mug of beer in front of him. Aaron, on the other hand, looked like he had to be on his fifth or sixth, from his bleary eyes.

When her brother saw her, he perked up and opened his mouth, but she plunked down in a chair and cut him off with, “Don’t talk. Just order up.”

Derek raised a brow. “Something wrong?”

“Everything is wrong.” She dragged her hands back through her hair, pulling it loose from its bun. “I spent all day working on the damned proposal and getting nowhere. Now I have another meeting tomorrow.
We
have another meeting tomorrow, full of useless chit-chat that will accomplish absolutely zilch.”

“Not necessarily. Remember, it’s all part of the game.”

“I’m tired of the game! I don’t even know what I’m playing. Chess. Checkers. Parcheesi.
Shuffleboard
. Fuck the game.”

Aaron grinned muzzily. “Mama doesn’t like that word. I’m telling.”

“You’re drunk,” Stephanie said. “About as drunk as I need to be.”

Derek signaled the waitress. “All this over another meeting?”

“It’s more than just a meeting.” She folded her arms on the table and dropped her forehead onto them. “Wheeler asked for you. Rodgers was…oh, he was just a
poop
about it. I told him you’d have to go home sooner or later, and we couldn’t keep this up forever, but he said I had to find a way to make you stay.” She groaned. “I don’t know how to make him see it’s not possible for you to just…be at my beck and call—”

“I can do it.” A light brush of his hand coaxed her to lift her head. “I own my own company. I can work remotely.”

She stared at him. “That’s insane. What if he wants you around until the project is finalized? That could take weeks.”

“Then it takes weeks.” He shrugged.

Aaron sniggered, weaving in his seat. “You’ve got it baaaaad.”

Stephanie sighed. “Aaron…” God, her brother. She smacked her face into her palm. “Derek, I can’t ask that of you.”

“You can. It’s a moot point. You need me.” He met her eyes, his voice dipping low with promise. “I’ll be here for you.”

Stephanie almost protested. Almost. But she’d told him no so many times already, and right now she wondered if he was right. If she let her pride get in the way of the obvious solution, just so she wouldn’t have to accept help.

Just so she wouldn’t look weak in the eyes of someone whose respect she wanted more and more every day.

“Thank you,” she made herself say. “I don’t know what to say.”

He smiled. “Your thanks is more than enough. I have only one condition.”

“And that would be?”

“Why no,” Aaron said dryly, “this isn’t awkward for me at all.”

Stephanie shot him a look. Derek ignored him and said, “I get to pick the next date.”

“Deal.”

Their eyes locked. She couldn’t look away, and bit down on her lip. What had she been about to say?

“The meeting,” she managed. “The meeting is tomorrow afternoon at twelve. In the Plazo.”

Aaron snorted. “Yes, please, make googly eyes right on top of me. I’m not here at all.” He propped his chin in his hand with a mournful sigh. “Googly eyes. I graduated from Quantico so I could say ‘googly eyes.’”

“Yes, dear, you’re a very powerful super spy.” Stephanie patted his arm. “No more beer for you.”

She snagged his half-finished glass and dragged it away. He grabbed for it with a mournful sound, but she kept it just out of his reach.

“No fair,” he said. “How am I supposed to endure the two of you without being drunk off my ass?”

There is no “the two of us,”
Stephanie started to say, but something about the way Derek was looking at her stopped her. Something that said he hadn’t run away last night because he wasn’t interested.

“No,” Aaron said firmly. “No. No eye sex in front of me.
No.
”

Stephanie started to snap at her brother, then stopped. He never got this drunk. Ever. He hated losing his calm self-control, the icy composure that made him the portrait of the fearsome, emotionless FBI agent…with everyone but her. Something was wrong, she thought, and just as quickly thought now wasn’t the time to talk about it. She probably didn’t need to ask.

He’d probably been thinking about
her
again. The woman he’d almost married.

Under the table, she reached for Aaron’s hand. “I’m calling you a cab.”

“Don’t need a cab.” But his fingers gripped tight to hers, and he was no longer grinning.

“You need more than a cab. You need water, aspirin, and a good night’s sleep.” She stood, slipping an arm under her brother’s shoulders.

“I’ve got him, love,” Derek murmured, and supported Aaron from his other side, his arm across his back. Stephanie froze, staring at him over her brother’s lolling blond head.

He’d just called her
love
.

Her heart rocketed about madly. She made herself breathe. She was reading too much into this. It was just an idle comment, just a…a…

At some point, the waitress had left a fresh beer for her. Derek nodded at the cold-frosted glass absently, his attention mostly on getting Aaron on his feet, and pulled her brother along for a few staggering steps. “Stay and enjoy your beer. I’ll get Aaron home. I’m used to this.”

“What? But—”

“I’ve got it, Stephanie. I’ll see you tomorrow. The Plazo.”

She trailed after them. “Derek, he’s my brother.”

“And
I’ve
got this
.” He gave her a fierce look. “I’ve seen him through this before. Just let me handle it.”

Her ping-ponging heart bounced to a halt and refused to move again. Of course. Of course Derek had been there for Aaron when Stephanie hadn’t. Stephanie was the charity case, the little sister who always needed help, who was never there when anyone needed her.

Derek couldn’t know how much that stung. Couldn’t know how much she still hated herself for not being there for Aaron all those years ago, after his fiancé had died. She’d been wrapped up in college, wholly self-absorbed, while Aaron had been grieving. Derek had been there. Derek was here now.

And neither of them needed her.

She watched them go without another protest. There was a brotherhood between them, apparent in every movement, that ran deeper than blood. She wanted to hate Derek for it. She knew she was being emotional, irrational. She hadn’t just been usurped. Derek wasn’t taking her place…because it had never been her place to comfort Aaron. She’d always taken, never given.

She thunked down heavily in her chair and stared at the abandoned beer glasses. She’d been trying so hard, but she’d failed. She was still so dependent on both Aaron and Derek. She had to pull away. Had to stand on her own, and learn not to need either of them.

If only she could figure out how.