Playing Pretend by Cassie-Ann L. Miller

Fifteen

Eliza

Daylight glows behind my eyelids.In my sleepy haze, I roll over and turn my back on the sunrays trying to assault me.

“Ughmmm…” An unflattering groan escapes me as I curl up in these cool, luxurious, cologne-scented sheets that definitely don’t belong to me. So comfy.

Something doesn’t feel right—multiple somethings, actually—but I can’t quite put my finger on what it is.

It takes considerable effort to crack open a lid, and as soon as I manage to get them both open, I squeeze my eyes shut again.

What the hell?!

That was Liam Kline’s face I just saw. Beautiful and harsh and staring at me from the foot of the bed.

Definitely not a part of my regular morning routine.

With my eyes still firmly clamped shut, I try to get my muddled brain in order and piece together how I ended up in this bed.

The memories of last night’s events come back slowly piece by piece along with a healthy dose of shame. I slap both hands over my face. My brain is twisting like the Tasmanian Devil over the fact that I just spent the night in the bed of the man who ruthlessly fired me.

I risk a peek under the crisp white sheet that’s covering my body. Naked. I’m one hundred percent naked. That plush, fluffy bathrobe I wrapped myself in last night? It’s now in a pile on the floor halfway across the bedroom.

Oh, boy.

“Sleep well?” Liam’s voice rumbles. Deep, raspy and vibrating through my lady parts.

“Um, yeah,” I squeak out, tugging the comforter up to my chin and still refusing to look him in the eyes.

The ever-stoic man emits an ironic chuckle. “Not a morning person, huh?”

He’s mocking me.

I glance up to shoot him the stink-eye but I’m easily distracted by all his ‘pretty’. It’s way too early in the morning to be that pretty.

He’s leaned against the dresser, feet crossed at the ankles, as he buttons the cuffs on his crisp collared shirt. A pale blue today. His navy pants are perfectly ironed. His hair, effortlessly mussed. Just the right amount of scruff on his angular jaw.

Mmm. I want him for breakfast.

He picks up his expensive watch from the dresser and clasps it around his wrist. He checks the time.

Crap. That’s probably my queue to get lost.

I need to make myself decent, though. And so commences Mission: Grab Bathrobe off the Floor.

Step one: Bundle myself up in the bed linens.

This isn’t like the movies, though—the flat sheet doesn’t just end up draped around the woman’s body in a nice, neat, gladiator-style toga. But I’m gonna make this work, dammit.

Step two: Gracefully lean over the side of the mattress without actually getting out of bed.

Crap. I still can’t reach the robe.

Step three: Lean over some more.

Except, when I lean over the edge of the bed, I almost end up flashing Liam my naked booty.

Oops! Let’s repeat step one, shall we? I tighten the sheet around me. Good.

Time to try step three again.

Leaning over as far as I can—while still trying to hide my goods—I reach for the puddle of fluffy terrycloth on the carpeted floor. I promptly lose my balance and make a flailing attempt to catch myself with both hands.

The sheet comes loose.

Now, the girls are just flapping, while I’m half upside down with my naked goodies sticking up in the air.

Good god. Did I mention that I hate mornings?

I check over my shoulder to see how much of that Liam just witnessed. I find the man chuckling and shaking his head as he peels himself off of the dresser.

Oh god.No amount of coffee will ever set this right.

“Don’t be so dramatic,” he rasps out.

I cringe, realizing I must have spoken that out loud.

I walk my hands backward until I’m safely back inside the warm king-sized bed. Self-conscious, I pull the sheets up to my chin while Liam carries on merrily preparing for his day like all this is completely normal.

My eyes follow him as he saunters casually across the suite toward the breakfast tray on the table by the bedroom door. I don’t even want to know where that came from—or worse—who may have seen me here.

“It’s still early, so you should get some shut-eye,” he says with his back turned to me as he pours coffee from a carafe. He stalks toward me with a mug in his outstretched hand.

I reach greedily for the cup. I need all the coffee.

“I’ve got some work to do this morning,” Liam continues, holding the coffee cup just out of my reach, “but I’m going to need you at the office later today.”

I pause.

I glare.

“Liam, I’m not coming back to work for you.”

“What will it take to change your mind?” He dangles the coffee in front of me like catnip.

“There’s no changing my mind,” I declare. With the sheets clutched tightly over my boobs, I reach for the cup again.

“Come on. I’ll give you a raise,” he bargains.

I shake my head. “Liam, no.”

“I’ll fatten up your benefits package.”

I shake my head more vigorously this time. “No.”

“There has to be something you want, Eliza. I’m a man who can make things happen. Tell me what it will take.”

I’m annoyed at his insistence. Mainly because I can already feel him breaking me down. With that frisky smile and the playful light in his eyes. He’s not playing fair. I know that Liam’s money can solve the long list of problems in my life. But at what cost? I’ve already sold out a huge chunk of my dignity tonight. I’m doggedly holding onto what self-respect I have left.

“I can’t believe you’re holding the coffee hostage, though. After the night I had. That’s plain cruel.”

He shrugs and takes a step backward. “Say yes to my job offer and the coffee is all yours.” His tone goes softer, more serious. “Come back and work for me, Eliza. I thought you said you forgave me.”

I drop back onto my heels, my resolve melting with each pounding heartbeat. It’s time to put it all out there. “I do forgive you, Liam…But after that kiss…” When I say that, his gaze drops to my lips and an inferno ignites in his granite irises. “And after all that other stuff…” My core clenches at the lingering memory of his fingers playing inside me. I swallow. “I think it’s best—personally and professionally—if we just both go our separate ways.”

Liam returns his blazing eyes to mine. “So basically, you’re turning down the opportunity to advance in your career because we shared a kiss? We’re both adults here, Eliza. So what if we had one misguided ‘moment’? Be reasonable.”

It was more than a ‘moment’. At least to me, it was.

I felt him. I smelled him. I tasted him. I heard the carnal sounds of his lust. And now, I’m supposed to go back to work for him? Pretend all that never happened?

“Working at Kline-Simmons is an invaluable opportunity for you. And you’re gonna just throw it away?”

“I used to be your secretary, Liam. Not some high-level executive. Surely, if you search hard enough, you can easily find someone qualified to fill my shoes.”

I’m hoping he’ll say I was more than just his secretary. I’m hoping he’ll say I was important. I want to matter to a man like Liam, even if it’s in a minuscule way.

God, I’m so desperate to belong somewhere.

He finally relents. “Fine,” he concedes. “Fine.” On a resigned sigh, he sets the coffee cup in my palm and takes a backward step.

The sudden movement catches me by surprise. Dark liquid sloshes over the side of the cup. Coffee splashes down his arm and soaks through his pale blue shirt.

Shit.

“Oh god. I’m sorry,” I squeak out. I hurriedly swipe my free palm over the wet, coffee-stained fabric. Like I can somehow clean up the mess with my fingertips.

Liam hisses. But he’s not in pain. He seems…aroused. I can read it in his expression and in the way his pectoral muscles clench beneath my palm.

See—precisely why we can’t work together.

“It’s fine.” He licks his lips. “I’ll go grab a clean shirt. Then I’ll head to the office.”

I nod, my vocal chords refusing to work.

He turns to leave but pauses by the exit. “Make sure to eat before you leave.” He motions toward the bagels, croissants and fruits on the breakfast cart.

“Thank you,” I say softly.

As soon as Liam stalks out the bedroom door, I throw myself face-first into the mound of fluffy white pillows.

Shit. This guy has my feelings a mess. I’m all over the place when it comes to him. One minute, I’m infuriated enough to breathe fire. The next minute, he has my reservations melting to the ground.

But in any case, I can’t go back to work for him. Not when I feel the way I do. Not after everything that’s happened between us.

I’ve got my job at the motel. For now, that has to be enough. I cannot go back to working for Liam Kline.

Although my mind is made up, there’s a tug of war going on in my body. My heart is urging me to take Liam up on his offer—he seems to really need my help. And my pussy? Oh my pussy, is totally on-board to make some sexy, bad, dirty life choices.

I shut it all down.

I let my eyes close. Maybe I'll wake up in an hour or two and this will all just be a bad dream.