Playing Pretend by Cassie-Ann L. Miller

Fourteen

Eliza

God,this is embarrassing.

I stay in the shower way longer than I should, basking in the opulence of the palatial bathroom and water that doesn’t turn icy cold after running for longer than three minutes.

Also, I’m hiding out from the reality that’s waiting for me on the other side of that door.

I’m in Liam Kline’s hotel room!!

I’ll admit it—I’ve spent many nights in my creaky little bed, dreaming up scenarios that involved being wet and naked with my grumpy ex-boss in his room.

None of those fantasies ever played out quite like this.

I’m mortified. To have to come crawling back to him for help after the melodramatic scene I made just a few hours ago.

But he’s practically the only person I know in this town. And spending a night at the Quickie Inn is absolutely, positively not an option I’m willing to entertain. So after searching the alley, drenched and cold, and not finding my keys, I know I have to either curl up in a soggy cardboard box on the corner of Willis Street…or swallow my pride and accept Liam’s pity tonight.

Talk about a lesson in humility.

Even after apologizing to Liam, I still feel bad about the way I behaved earlier. My mother taught me better than that. Just because he’s been cruel to me, doesn’t mean I should have stooped to his level. Standing under the cleansing spray of the shower, I quietly resolve to do better going forward.

After an eternity, I emerge from the bathroom swathed in one of the thick bathrobes I find draped on the bathroom door hook.

After showering, I wasn’t sure what to do with my dirty outfit and underwear I was wearing when I waltzed in here, so I folded it all up into a neat pile and left it on the bathroom vanity. Now I’m walking around this hot guy’s hotel room with no panties on under this robe.

Can this night get any weirder?

Liam is reclined on the expansive sectional, a box of Cathedral Pub chicken wings in his lap. He watches me and groans as he chomps exaggeratedly into a juicy piece of chicken.

My stomach roars.

“Let’s try this again. Would you like some chicken wings, Eliza?”

I want to say no. Just to stand my ground. But I’m hungry to the point that my head is spinning. I weigh my options and quickly realize that conceding to his offer and giving him the upper hand would be far less embarrassing than passing out from hunger and Liam having to rescue me with mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. Because that’s where this is headed.

My shoulders droop. “Yes, thanks.”

He flashes me a grin that’s as wide as the Strip as he licks his fingers.

He’s so annoying.

“Get over here and eat,” he demands, crooking a barbecue-covered finger at me. He scoots over to make room for me on the couch.

I swallow my pride—again—and primly lower myself onto the side of the sectional across from him.

Liam triumphantly grabs a second takeout box from the table and sets it in my lap. I can barely keep from drooling as I take the first piece of chicken from the box. God this is good.

“You don’t have to gloat, y’know. It’s tacky.”

One corner of his mouth hooks up. “What’s tacky about trying to make amends for my…” He runs his tongue over his bottom lip, seemingly searching for the perfect word. “…blunder?”

“Your blunder?” I lift an eyebrow.

“I was wrong for firing you.” He purses his lips like saying it is difficult. “I’m…sorry.”

When he says that, I feel something unknot inside of me. This apology is different from the one he flung at me in the alley. This one is genuine. And I hadn’t realized how much I needed it.

“Well, I accept,” I mutter quietly. “And I’m sorry, too. I said some pretty ugly things to you earlier.”

“Thank you.” I notice the way his mouth twitches with a restrained smile. It makes me remember the way his lips felt when they were slanted over mine.

Not going there, Eliza. Yes, Liam and I have established a truce but it’s fragile. We definitely don’t need to put any pressure on it by adding sexual tension in the air.

He reaches for the TV remote on the side table. Highlights from tonight’s Paragons game play on the Sports Broadcast Network.

“You watch football?” he asks, eyeballing me. He dims the room lights with the touch of a button.

“Love it,” I say, blocking my mouth with my fist as I scarf down some French fries.

He nods approvingly, swallowing from his takeout cup. “That is the only acceptable answer to that question.”

I snicker. “It’s not like I had a choice. Growing up, my dad was a football fanatic. If there was a football game on TV, nobody else was getting their hands on the remote.”

Shit, why did I say that? I know better than to bring up my family. I can almost see the follow-up questions forming in Liam’s eyes.

Quickly, I grab control of the conversation. “I’m guessing you like football a whole lot too? I mean, you have to if you’re going to own a team, right?”

He huffs out a laugh. “I do enjoy football—a lot—but, you want to know something funny?”

I feel myself leaning toward him. “What?”

“The idea started as a joke between me and my friends.”

“Huh?” I guffaw. “You bought a football team as a joke.”

“It started as a joke,” he clarifies. “You know who Jason Bellino is?”

“Paragons defensive safety,” I supply. I know Jason’s grandmother, actually. She’s my landlord’s lady friend. But I don’t tell that to Liam. My ex-boss doesn’t need to know everything about my life.

Liam nods. “We were both on the high school football team but he’s always been the better athlete and he would rub it in my face all the time. Not that I cared. I was super focused on getting into business, to be filthy, stinking rich.” A smirk dances across his lips. “His brother, Declan, started joking that Jace would be the one to go on to be a professional football player but I’d buy the team just so I can call myself his boss. I guess the joke planted a seed because, a decade later, I made it happen.”

“Wait—you bought a football team just to one-up your friend?”

“Mostly, yes.”

I drop back against the couch cushions, giggling. “Wow! That’s the ultimate checkmate!”

We eat chicken wings and hamburgers and pickles. Laughing and shit-talking as rain beats the glass walls of the room around us.

He tells me stories about growing up in Sin Valley. I eagerly talk about my favorite football teams and players. Whenever the conversation turns to my personal life, I expertly dodge the questions and keep my answers vague.

Talking to him, I completely lose track of time. Memories of my confrontation with Liam fade to the far recesses of my mind. My stomach clenches at how commonplace the whole thing feels. Familiar. Normal.

At one point, Liam falls silent, his attention riveted to the TV screen. Out of the corner of my eye, I steal a peek at him. He’s so damn gorgeous, laughing at something ridiculous the TV announcer said. I like this laidback version of him, in a T-shirt and sweatpants watching sports like a regular guy.

A regular hot-as-fuck, rich-as-sin guy.

My eyes linger on the way his long fingers wrap around his takeout cup. The muscles between my thighs clench, reminding me of my pantyless state. Those fingers were buried inside me tonight…The thought causes me to quiver.

A little later on, I steal another peek at Liam. My breath catches when I find him already staring at me. My robe has slid down my arm, exposing my shoulder and the tiniest bit of side-boob. He smiles guiltily and looks away as I hurriedly adjust the terrycloth on my shoulder.

But despite the heated stares and flirty smiles we share, Liam is the perfect gentleman. I’m almost tempted to believe that I dreamed up that whole thing that happened between us only hours ago.

I guess this is how we’re going to play it, huh? Dancing around the elephant in the room. Pretending that hot back alley makeout session never happened. Fine by me.

No, I’m lying. It’s not fine by me.

A part of me is praying that he’ll make a flirty comment, that he’ll somehow show me that what happened in the alleyway was more than just a spontaneous lapse in judgment. But Liam keeps the conversation completely platonic the whole time.

When I start to yawn, he points to the towering double doors in the far corner of the room. “Bedroom’s that way,” he tells me. He wearily lifts his arms above his head and stretches his biceps.

I start to object. “Oh, I wouldn’t want to—”

“Don’t try and fight me on it,” he ruthlessly cuts me off. “You’re my guest.”

“Liam, I’ve already been a big pain in the—”

“I’m trying to be polite. Will you let me?”

I give him an over-the-top eyeroll. Still I can’t help but smile. “You’re trying, huh?”

“Yes. I’m trying.” He reclines against the cushions and swings his legs up onto the couch. “I’m not making any promises of how it’ll work out, though. We’ll see how it goes.”

I laugh, charmed. My cheeks are flushed and prickly. “If this is part of your grand master plan to get me to come back and work for you, I’m telling you now, it’s not going to work.”

“Yes, I’ve got a masterplan to win you back as my assistant. Yes, it’s going to work…” He’s all confidence when he says it. Then his voice softens. “But also, I just want you to see that I’m not such a bad guy…”

His words drift off and silence descends over the room. I don’t want to be a fool. Liam has been pretty shitty to me before tonight. I’m struggling to reconcile the gentleman he’s been over the past few hours with the scoundrel I got to know when I worked for him.

He’s just trying to convince you to come back and work for him. That’s all it is, Eliza. Nothing more.

I get lost in my thoughts until I realize that he’s drifted off, with his long legs spread along the cushions and one arm draped along the back.

He’s adorable while he sleeps. His head lolls to the side and his chest rises and falls with his every breath. I like the way his lips part slightly, the way the hair at his nape curls up, the way his guard is lowered for once.

I have a crush on this wretched man.

And as much as I’d like to bury it away and pretend it doesn’t exist, it’s there. Despite my best efforts, it’s growing with every second I spend staring at him.

So I turn off the television and clamber off the couch. I tiptoe into the bedroom and quietly close the door.