4. Wyatt
4
WYATT
Mr. Flanders has long since left, but I’m still sitting at that conference table. I can’t bring myself to move. It’s like someone replaced the gum on my shoe with concrete.
Matthias is here too. Silently watching me. He vanished out the door after Flanders, giving me false hope that I wouldn’t have to see his smarmy face for a while.
Luck isn’t on my side. Not a surprise, given how my life was going. He returned minutes later, taking his seat once more and watching me.
His fiancé.
My future husband.
I can’t fucking believe this.
“You can’t want this either,” I burst out finally. “You hate me as much as I do you.”
Matthias leans his chin on interlaced fingers. “I asked The Firm for a husband, and they delivered. Quite frankly, I don’t give a fuck who they picked.”
“Ask them for someone else,” I say, hating the desperate note in my plea. “For old times’ sake, Matthias. You owe me this.”
Matthias’s gaze darkens, and I know immediately that I’ve said the wrong thing. “I think we have different memories of what happened during those old times .”
Fuck him. Fuck him for implying shit hadn’t played out the way it did. That he was anything other than the guilty party who set me up to take the fall.
My nostrils flare. “So you’re saying you’re happy to go along with this? To marry me, of all people?”
His expression doesn’t change. “Yes. I need a husband, and you’re, well…not willing, but available.”
“Fuck.” I drop my head into my hands, my knee jiggling under the table. “I can’t believe I’m going to have to marry you.”
“Oh, it’s rather more than that, I’m afraid.” Matthias is tracing patterns on the table, but his eyes are still on me. “Did you not read the document thoroughly?”
I met his gaze, my jaw jumping. No fucking way was I admitting that I’d been so stuck on the marriage that I hadn’t considered anything else. “Refresh me.”
“You’ll be required to attend various family and society functions as my date. Take vacations with me, etc. I’ll expect you to perform as though you are a caring, doting husband who loves me.”
I stare at him, waiting for the punchline, but he’s deadly serious. “What?”
“This must appear real,” Matthias says coldly. “It’s what I requested.”
“About that, why did you request it?”
Matthias was quiet for a beat. “I’m due to inherit a large sum, but the condition of it is that I must be in a happy, monogamous marriage.”
My mind latched on to one part. “Monogamous?”
There’s a glimmer in his eyes, something I can’t quite place. “I expect you to be faithful to me, Wyatt. Real or not, no one outside of the four walls of our home can have reason to question it.”
“So, I’m expected to be celibate for the length of the contract?” I frown. “Wait, how long am I expected to put up with this shit show?”
“One year.” My stomach drops. Fuck, can I really put up with Matthias for a whole year? While also not having sex?
Matthias continues speaking. “And no one said you need to stay celibate, Wy.”
“But you said I can’t be with anyone else.”
Matthias tilts his head. “You can’t.”
It takes far too long for the penny to drop. When it finally does, heat floods my cheeks. In fact, my whole body feels like it’s been exposed to a scorching blaze. “I’m not fucking sleeping with you, Matthias. I told you, I’m straight. You know that.”
Matthias shrugs. “That’s fine. Sex is not part of the contract. But, like I said, you can’t be with anyone else. I won’t accept it.”
I force a breath in my nose and out my mouth, trying to slow my pulse. “Fine. It’s been months since I’ve had sex anyway. I can go another year.”
His lips curl almost tauntingly, like he’s silently calling bullshit.
I’ll show him. Even if I were interested in men like that, Matthias would be the last fucking person I’d sleep with.
I’m searching for any other reason why we shouldn’t do this. “What will your family think when you suddenly turn up with me as your husband?”
I hadn’t known Matthias’s brothers well, nor his father. My friendship with him when we were young had been just that—a friendship with him. No one else. I’d never met them, but he would sometimes talk about his brothers.
The reality is, Matthias has always been possessive of his things. Looking back, I can see how possessive of me he was. He wanted all my attention, always. He didn’t want to share.
I didn’t see it as a red flag back then. How could I, when I’d thrived under his attention? His care? Our friendship had once been the most important thing in my life.
Making it all the more painful when he betrayed me.
“They won’t be surprised,” Matthias says. “Given our history together, none of them will question it.”
There’s a ringing in my ears, a high-pitched noise I can’t escape. My fingers tense against the underside of the table as I struggle to control myself. “You told them?”
“Not everything.” He doesn’t look repentant, nor surprised by the barely controlled rage in my words. “Obviously.”
Obviously. Meaning they don’t know the truth. Fucking typical.
Matthias goes to speak again, but something he said earlier resurfaces in my mind. Suddenly, my sex life is the least of my worries. “Wait, what did you mean when you said ‘four walls of our home’?”
For the first time, he seems puzzled. “Well, you’ll be living with me for the duration of the contract, of course.”
“No.” I’m on my feet before I’ve finished speaking. “Absolutely fucking not.”
The corner of his lips twitch, like he’s fighting a smile. “Really? Do you have a particular attachment to the shithole you currently occupy with your brother?”
How the fuck does he know where I live? I push that aside, latching on to the one thing that might save me. “I’m not leaving Jackson alone. That’s a deal breaker. I’m his caretaker, Matthias. I can’t leave him.”
His dark brows draw together. “I’m not asking you to. That’s why I spoke with Mr. Flanders before he left. He informed me that The Firm has arranged for twelve weeks of in-patient rehab for Jackson.”
They have?
“I was sorry to hear about his accident,” Matthias’s tone softens. “Jackson was always so full of life.”
“He still is,” I say harshly. “Losing his leg hasn’t changed who he is as a person.”
Matthias holds up his hands in a peace offering. “Of course. I’m sorry, Wy. I didn’t mean to imply otherwise. I’ll be more careful with how I speak when he moves in with us.”
“When he what?”
“After his rehab,” Matthias says. “Don’t worry, I have plenty of space. Jackson can have a whole suite of rooms if he likes.”
My mind is reeling, trying to keep up. “Will I have that too?”
A glimmer of amusement flashes in his eyes. Or is that heat? “Oh no, Wy. You’ll be sharing a room with me.”
“Fuck off.”
“And a bed.”
My face pales and I run a hand down my cold skin.
“You can’t be fucking serious. Why do we need to share a bed? It’s not like anyone is going to know?”
“I’ll know,” he says simply. “This marriage is to appear real, in almost every sense. You don’t want to have sex with me—fine. But you’ll sleep in my bed, Wyatt. That’s non-negotiable.”
An image flashes through my mind. Calligraphy on white cardstock.
Negotiation is not an option.
“Fine,” I grind out. I can sleep in a bed with the fucker. I’ll make him regret it though. I’m going to be the worst bed partner possible.
He won’t last a week.
He just sits there and watches me. He’s always fucking watching. He’s always been like this, even as a kid. It didn’t creep me out then, but now I wish he’d stop. It crawls under my skin and makes me itch.
I want him to turn his eyes away from me and never look at me again.
My throat clicks as I look away first. “When do I have to move in?”
“After the wedding—which will be happening tomorrow. Jackson will be checked into rehab after the ceremony. I assume you don’t want him to attend?”
I shake my head. No. I don’t want him to attend. I also don’t want to know how much money Matthias is throwing at this to bring it together so quickly.
“Fine,” he says. “I’ll arrange for movers to take your stuff and place it at mine.”
I rub at my chest, feeling another missing button on my shirt. Shit. I’m falling apart, piece by piece? What’s next? My hair? My teeth?
My sanity.
That is entirely likely. Matthias has always had a way of making me feel like I’m losing my mind. Back when we were kids, I didn’t mind it. I could trust him to put me back together again.
I don’t trust him now.
“I’ll arrange it all. You don’t need to do a thing.”
I clench my jaw and my hands fist on my thighs. “Is this how it’s going to be? Are you going to control everything about my life?”
His lips twitch and he cocks his head slightly. “If I think you need it, then yes.”
“I don’t need anyone to control me.”
Matthias’s eyes sweep over me pointedly. I force myself not to cringe as he takes in my disheveled hair and my shirt with missing buttons. “We’ll have to agree to disagree on that.”
Fuck him. Fuck him. How fucking dare he sit there and judge me? He knows nothing about my life. Nothing about what I’ve been through.
“Any other questions?”
I can’t speak. The rage is choking me. I have to clench my hands into fists to stop myself from grabbing him by his tie.
Something tells me The Firm won’t see me throttling Matthias as fulfilling his request.
I don’t even answer, I just stand up and stalk toward the door leading out into the hallway. He follows but I don’t say anything, just continue to move forward. That’s all I can do. It’s all I’m capable of at the moment.
This is it. This is the price I’ve got to pay.
My fate may be sealed but I don’t have to fucking like it.
It could be worse. It’s not murder. Or drug smuggling.
No. It’s giving up my freedom for an entire year. Living with a fucking asshole who I detest. Being at his beck and call, whenever he demands it.
I’ve sold my soul to the devil. I shouldn’t be surprised that the devil has taken the form of Matthias Buckingham.
My finger smashes into the elevator button and I fold my arms across my chest as I wait for it to appear. When it does, we step inside, Matthias crowding me. It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask him to back the fuck up, but I hold it back. I won’t rise to him.
I won’t.
Besides, I should get used to it, to how close he’ll be to me at all times moving forward, but it’s almost suffocating. How am I going to cope with being in his space all the time?
It has to be better than what you have now.
I’m not so sure about that. Matthias has always had this way of demanding attention. It’s been over a decade since he’s focused it on me.
I used to love it, crave it. Now I can’t think of anything worse.
I inhale deeply, trying to get some much-needed oxygen into my lungs. Instead, they fill with him , the heady cologne he wears. Probably expensive, like the kind I used to wear when I had money.
I hold my breath as the elevator brings us back into the lobby and I step out. I want to move quickly, to get away from Matthias as fast as possible. To escape this clusterfuck and panic about what this will mean for me.
Matthias’s hand wraps around my wrist, making me pause. I try to pull away, but his grip tightens.
“We have a deal,” he says lowly, and I find myself clenching at those words.
We do. Why the fuck does he need to remind me of this? “What do you want from me?”
“A doting fiancé and husband. Just like Mr. Flanders said. Can you do that, Wy?”
I close my eyes, my blood pressure skyrocketing. Fuck him and his expensive cologne and his perfect fucking suit.
I force the words out. “Tomorrow. Give me today, Matthias. At least give me fucking that.”
“Tomorrow,” he agrees. “We’ll be married and the contract will start.”
He releases my wrist and I step away, feeling like I can breathe once more. And without looking back, I step into the rain and make my way to my old, worn car.
I don’t look back, but I can feel his eyes on me.
He never wavers, never looks away.
It could be worse. I could have drugs up my ass right now. I could be on my way to a cartel.
But I’m not gay.
It doesn’t matter. Nothing matters. Not the marriage. Not even the fact that it’s to Matthias Buckingham, of all fucking people.
I just need to make it through a year with him. Even if I have to see his face every day, even if I have to choke back the loathing. I can do it.
For Jackson, if nothing else.
If only to prove that I can .
It’s only when I’m several blocks away that it hits me. The numbness that’s been my constant companion for months is missing. It’s gone.
In its place is a fiery rage.
It’s a relief after the nothingness I’m used to. I grab on to it with both hands, letting it grow and swell within me.
Fury will get me through this, I realize. If hating Matthias is what I need to survive the next twelve months, I’m going to let it fucking flourish.