Chapter 28
WHEN HE THREATENS YOU WITH ORGASMS AND YOU’RE TRYING TO REMEMBER WHY THAT’S A BAD THING. #EMPTYTHREATS
DAKOTA
I had no clue Axel was about to find out my favorite sexual position was TBD. I think it was the worst way this possibly could have gone.
I suppose drinking wine in advance of having to do this thing was a bad idea, but it was the only way I was getting through Operation Get to Know You.
My goal? Survive this interrogation as fast as possible, then get to bed and forget Axel Pierce had learned things about me I never wanted to tell him.
Funny. Back when I had first met him, all those years ago, I had dreamed about getting the chance to sit across from Axel and learn everything about him.
I wanted to reach my fingers into his brain and find out every secret, every hidden fantasy, every fact.
He was like a puzzle I wanted to assemble, all thousand pieces, one at a time, and each one I wanted to savor.
Fast-forward to right now. The thought of learning about him didn’t bother me. It was the thought of exposing parts of myself to him that had me all sorts of anxious.
The fire crackled in his living room fireplace, casting dancing shadows across the walls. I was curled up on one end of his ridiculously expensive leather couch, wineglass in hand, while he sat on the opposite end like we were in some kind of standoff. Which, let’s be honest, we were.
Axel was dressed in a black T-shirt that accentuated his muscles, flattened along his frustratingly flat abs, and gray sweats that not only showed off his legs, but notably … well, what was between them.
I mean, wow. Focus, Dakota. Wine. Drink more wine.
“Okay. Ready for this?” he asked.
Not really.
We’d pivoted and posted our stupid Yay! We’re engaged!
photo online and were once again “spotted” at dinner together.
Looking lost in love. To follow that, we stopped by a place for dessert.
More in love. To my equal parts pleasure and horror, it seemed to be working.
The public seemed to be buying it, and as Rebecca predicted, they were thirsting for more. More us. More of the backstory.
And my brand deal wasn’t officially dead anymore.
The rep “loved” what she was seeing online, citing how authentic our “flawed” love story was.
#Irony. I just had to keep it up, I guess, but that was about to get a whole lot harder.
And riskier because the reps at that brand deal had somehow sniffed out this dinner from hell and snagged an invite.
I bet my money it was Rebecca’s doing, but I couldn’t blame her for helping me, now could I?
In any case, if each of our public events and subsequent posts had been like football games, the Super Bowl was looming ahead of us. A live event, where we’d have to think on the fly, make sure our story was airtight and impenetrable.
God. Help. Us.
Thus us sitting here now.
“You’re my brother’s best friend. You know me.” I pushed back, taking a generous gulp of my cabernet.
“First of all, you’re guarded as hell. Second, you were a completely different person back then. And third?” His eyes narrowed. “You’ve hated me ever since.”
“I don’t hate you.” I took another sip. Liquid courage, don’t fail me now.
His gaze remained locked on mine, and for a heartbeat, I thought it actually mattered to him that I didn’t hate him.
(By the way, why exactly did I admit that again?) And, hello, was it just me, or was he trying to see straight into my soul right now?
But then he cleared his throat and chucked whatever moment we’d just had aside.
“Right. Let’s start with something easy. When we first met.”
I glared at him over my wineglass. “We already know this information. We need to fill in the gaps between then and now.”
“One of the first questions couples get asked is how they met,” Axel said, settling back against the couch cushions like he had all the time in the world.
“Yeah, well, we’re not a normal couple. We met forever ago, and we’re just now engaged. Because apparently, I have terrible judgment.” I gestured with my wineglass for emphasis.
“And we need a story about that timeline.” He leaned forward, the firelight playing across his features. “We need to romanticize our first meeting. Make it sound like there was something there we didn’t act on. Sexual tension we ignored.”
Oh, there was tension all right. “Okay, fine. Let’s get this over with.” I drained half my glass.
“Tell me about the first time you saw me, and I’ll tell you about the first time I saw you.”
The memory warmed my cheeks despite my best efforts. Great. Now I’m blushing. “I came to visit Knox in college. First year, you were his roommate.”
“And when you walked in and saw me, you thought …?”
I thought you were the hottest guy I’d ever seen in my life. You were sprawled across your bed in a white T-shirt and gray athletic shorts, no shoes, scrolling through your phone like you owned the world. Which, let’s be honest, you probably thought you did.
“I don’t remember. You were just some random dude on a bed.” I took another gulp of wine.
“Liar.” His lips curved into that infuriating smirk. “You practically tripped over your own feet when you saw me.”
“That was a loose floorboard.”
“In a carpeted room?”
“Very loose carpet,” I claimed.
He bit back a smile and got back to the script. “Our eyes locked, and right then, we both knew something. Felt something. But neither of us would admit it.”
My heart did this stupid little flutter. Wait, is he …?
“That’s what we tell them,” he added, gesturing dismissively.
Ouch. Right in the ego. “Got it. Moving on.” I reached for the bottle on the coffee table.
When I leaned forward to pour more wine, my shirt gaped slightly at the neckline. I caught Axel’s eyes dropping for just a second before snapping back up.
“Did you just check out my cleavage?”
“I was looking at your necklace.”
“I’m not wearing a necklace.”
“I was looking at where a necklace would be.”
“Mmhmm. Very believable. Your eyes just happened to take the scenic route back to my face?”
“There was traffic.”
Why did I love that he was looking at me like that?
“Keep going with the story,” he insisted.
“We sat down, talked briefly, and …” The way you looked at me sent butterflies exploding through my entire body.
I was suddenly self-conscious about everything: my hair, my voice, the way I was sitting.
“I remember thinking you had the warmest smile I’d ever seen.
” What he doesn’t know? That smile part wasn’t made up.
Confessing it under the guise of fake engagement prep feels weirdly liberating.
He stared at me for several long seconds before clearing his throat.
“My turn.” Axel’s voice dropped lower, and the firelight made his eyes look almost golden. “I took one look at you and was thunderstruck. Thought I’d laid eyes on an angel. After you left, Knox smacked my shoulder and told me I better not even think about going near you.”
I smiled despite myself, swirling my newly refilled wine. Fun to imagine, but Knox never mentioned that, so clearly, that part of the story was a ruse.
Or was it? The way he said it … there was something in his voice. Something that made me wonder if maybe, just maybe, that part was real too.
“We need to leave Knox out of this,” I reminded him. “My followers don’t know we’re related.”
“Right. Friend of my friend then.”
“Now we need to explain the hostility.” I leaned forward, wine making me bolder, and didn’t miss how his eyes tracked the movement. “Anyone who’s around us knows we haven’t gotten along in forever. How do we explain that?”
Axel’s jaw tightened. “We don’t. You were off-limits. Forbidden. End of story.”
“Except it’s not the end of the story.” Frustration bubbled up, aided by the alcohol. “You used to be nice to me when I first visited. Then it was like a switch flipped, and you became a complete ass.”
“If you think that’s being an ass, you have no idea what life can throw at you, Sunshine.”
“See? What does that even mean? You’re so cryptic.” I stood up, pacing in front of the fireplace. “I’m supposed to be your fiancée. Shouldn’t I know what goes on in that twisted brain of yours?”
“That’s not how relationships work.”
“That’s exactly how it works. And, we can’t skip this part!
” I gestured wildly with my wineglass. Oops.
A few drops spilled onto the hardwoods, inciting a glower from Axel.
The man looked like I’d just personally murdered his entire family.
Over three drops of wine. His eye twitched, and I swear I could hear his soul leaving his body.
God forbid anyone disrespect his precious Brazilian rosewood or whatever tree died for these floors.
I squatted down and slurped it up with my finger.
Was it just me, or was he watching my finger with an inappropriate amount of intensity as it trailed along my tongue?
“You know I have paper towels, right?”
“Where’s the fun in that?” I said, maintaining eye contact as I licked my finger clean.
“You’re doing that on purpose.”
“Doing what?” I asked innocently. “Being environmentally conscious? Reduce, reuse, recycle.”
“That’s not what recycling means.”
“I’m recycling the wine. Through my mouth. Very eco-friendly.”
He shifted in his seat. His eyes darkened, tracking a drop of wine I’d missed at the corner of my mouth. For a moment, we just stared at each other, the air between us crackling with something dangerous. Something that made me want to spill more wine just to see what he’d do about it.
I cleared my throat. “Anyway, you being mean to me for YEARS is a massive plot hole in our story.”
“You were mean right back to me.”
“Yeah, that’s what happens when someone’s a complete dick to you for no reason.”
His lips thinned. “Like I said. Forbidden. Off-limits.”