Chapter 28 #2
“Bullshit.” I gestured again, this time without spilling crimson. “You’re mean to me specifically. I’ve seen you with other people. You’re charming, funny, somewhat likable. Your special brand of jackassery is reserved just for me. And I deserve to know why.”
Something flickered across his face. His Adam’s apple bobbed, fingers twitching at his sides. For just a second, I saw something raw there. Something vulnerable. But instead of answering, he just cleared his throat. “Next subject. Why did we start dating now?”
Oh, hell no. “You can’t have it both ways. You can’t tell me we have to know everything about each other and then shut down the most important part of our story.”
“We’ll navigate around it.” His voice was clipped.
“Like that time in college, when you navigated making a fake dating profile for me?”
“That was helpful. I set your age preference to sixty-plus to help you find someone mature,” he quipped.
“My bio said I collected ceramic frogs and believed the moon landing was fake.”
“You got twelve matches. Thirteen if you count the guy who wanted to start a conspiracy podcast with you.”
“That’s not the point, Axel. And let’s stay on topic.”
“Fine. Here’s what I’ve been thinking about our timeline. We reconnected when Jace was in the hospital. That’s true; there are witnesses. We helped him get back home. Also true. But instead of our usual verbal sparring match and you being an absolute—”
“Choose your next words very carefully, Pierce.”
“Pain in my ass, we actually talked. Reconnected. Something sparked.”
“And we kept it secret because …?” I snapped my fingers, nearly spilling my wine again. “Oh! I know. Because I figured your nice-guy routine had a shelf life and you’d go back to being a complete jackass.”
His glare was soooooo satisfying.
“Fine.” I rolled my eyes and plopped back down on the couch, this time closer to his end than before. Close enough that I could see the way his muscles tensed when I settled next to him. “I made the decision to keep it private.”
“Why you and not me?”
“Because I’m a strong, independent woman running my own business. I carefully curate my image, and dating Chicago’s biggest playboy wasn’t exactly on-brand for me.” I took another sip. Nailed it.
His tightened face told me he was less than thrilled with my assessment. “Adorable. Now let’s talk about the important shit. Goals, dreams, life plans. Do we want kids? Where will we live?”
“This is going to be impossible to remember.” And, hello, now that I thought about it, drinking was a terrible idea; it’d make memory recall even harder. The problem? I was already buzzed, and buzzed me wasn’t very responsible.
“Then stick to the truth. Pretend I’m not the guy you hate. Do you want kids?”
The question caught me off guard. This suddenly feels way too intimate. Sharing hopes and dreams with Axel Pierce, my sworn enemy? But I had to sell this.
“I want three kids. And it would be amazing if two of them were twins.” I took a nervous gulp.
The way he looked at me then, his gaze lingering on my stomach like he could picture me round with his children, sent heat flooding through my entire body.
When he finally spoke, his voice was rough with genuine curiosity. “Why twins?”
I considered this, swirling my wine. “I’ve always been fascinated by them. Two little babies, two toddlers running around, looking similar … it’s the cutest thing in the world.”
The way he looked at me then, like this was the most interesting thing he’d ever heard, made my chest warm.
This is getting hard, these lines blurring between fake and real. Even harder are the feelings this conjured up, wishing that moments like these were the real ones.
Dangerous territory, Dakota.
But also … nice territory. When was the last time someone had looked at me like that? Like I was fascinating?
“What about you?” I cleared my throat and took another sip. “Kids?”
“No.” Axel said it so fast, it was like a gunshot to my soul.
“Wow, don’t sugarcoat it or anything. Tell me how you really feel.”
“I just did.”
“What if someone asks why your fiancée wants three kids and you want negative three?”
“Negative three?”
“That’s the vibe you’re giving off. Like you’d return other people’s kids if you could.”
Why did I care that he didn’t want children? I suppose it was because having kids wasn’t something I was willing to sacrifice, and maybe that small part of my brain that wondered if we could ever possibly work out realized now there was no way we ever could.
“Why don’t you want kids?” I pressed.
“Not everyone wants kids.”
“Right, but why? I’m supposed to be your fiancée. If I want three and you want zero, how did we resolve that? What was the compromise?” I drained my glass again.
His shoulders went rigid. “Families are overrated.”
Oh. “I take it, yours was a nightmare?”
“I don’t like talking about it.”
“Bet this get-to-know-you session really sucks for you then,” I quipped.
He sent a fresh glower my way.
“What if someone asks about it and I don’t know? That’ll blow our entire cover.”
He held my stare for a long moment, and I sensed whatever happened to him as a kid was what made him think families were doomed. Was that why he was a playboy whose only real relationship attachments were the men he’d bonded with in college?
And suddenly, I wasn’t just curious for the sake of our fake relationship. I wanted to know what had hurt him so badly.
“Asking about my childhood scars is a bit deep for the moment,” he decided. “For now, tell me a fact about yourself that most people don’t know.”
Should I let him off the hook? I wanted to press more.
In fact, the less he wanted to talk about it, the more I sensed was behind it.
Especially when I replayed Knox’s words when I’d visited him in prison.
What had my brother said? I was the antithesis of everything Axel stood for? Was that why he hated me?
“I hate true crime documentaries,” I answered. “Can’t change the channel fast enough.”
Fun fact. Want to know what happens to a family when one of them gets convicted of homicide? It wasn’t one of those trauma makes us stronger situations. Mom and Dad became withdrawn. Depressed. Any TV show highlighting someone else’s hell didn’t make for popcorn-worthy television.
Understanding settled over his features. “Is that why you like to be in control all the time?” Axel wondered.
Wow. Leave it to Axel to see right through me and land his target on something even Mathew hadn’t figured out.
“Life was totally normal,” I said quietly.
“I was getting a haircut the day everything changed. My biggest choice in life was bangs or no bangs.” I picked at my wineglass again.
“And then I find out my brother’s been arrested for murder.
So, yeah, that made everything feel out of control. Gave me anxiety attacks.”
He studied me like the idea truly bothered him, like he had to push the pain of my hurting aside to have a shot at focusing again. Then he nodded gently. “If you control everything, you feel like something like that can’t happen again.”
“It’s irrational.”
“It’s understandable.”
Okay, that was … unexpectedly kind.
He looked at me like understanding this part of me answered a puzzle piece he’d been desperate to understand for years. And something inside me softened. Just a little. Because for the first time in forever, someone got it. Got me.
This was dangerous. I was starting to feel … connected to him. And then, as if that wasn’t enough of a glimpse into my soul, he shifted forward and asked a doozy.
“Why did you fall in love with Mathew?”
There was something in his tone: hurt mixed with astonishment, like I’d chosen Mathew over him. Which is ridiculous because we were never an option. The wine was clearly going to my head.
“Mathew’s kind. Smart. He wants the same things I do. He made me feel like I mattered.” I took a large gulp for courage. “Plus, he can reach things on high shelves.”
His lips curled. “That’s your criteria? I can reach high shelves.”
“You also reach new levels of jackassery daily, so it’s a mixed bag.”
“Until he left you.”
My body went rigid. “You’re not exactly the authority on treating people well. Your longest relationship is with your gym membership.”
“At least I’m committed to something.”
“Your abs don’t count as a personality, Axel.”
“He’s not good enough for you.” The words came out possessive in a way that made my pulse react.
“Mathew’s a good guy.” I swirled my glass.
“We have different definitions of good guy.”
“You’re not one to lecture on what makes a good person. Let’s get back to this.” I set my wineglass down so I could cross my arms over my stomach.
Axel studied me for a moment, and I could practically see him deciding to rescue me from the Mathew feelings-fest. His eyes lit up with mischief.
“You know what? You’re right. Let’s stick to the easy stuff.” He leaned back, all swagger and false innocence. “Favorite sexual position.”
Heat exploded across my cheeks. When he noticed my blush, his resulting smirk made me want to murder him. I reached for the wine bottle again. Definitely need more alcohol for this.
“I’m never answering that. No one would ever ask that.”
“Men will ask me.”
“Business guys? I highly doubt that. What kind of business dinners are you attending? Great quarterly reports, Johnson. By the way, how does your fiancée like to—”
“You’d be surprised what comes up after the third martini.”
“Then maybe drink less at these dinners.”
“Where’s the fun in that?”
I leveled him with a glower.
“Not all men are gentlemen. We have interviews, dinners. What if I meet someone who’s been with you and I get it wrong?”
My neck warmed, and I saw his eyes track the flush spreading down my throat. “That won’t happen. Unlike you, Mathew is a gentleman and would never talk about me that way.”