Chapter 23
CHAPTER 23
He stepped away from me. My whole body trembled as I clung to the side of my car. I listened to his footsteps retreat, and I wanted to yell after him that his hot body was exactly what I wanted, but I didn’t turn around.
Now what? I tried to think, but my brain was muddled with white-hot lust. I got into my car, even though I knew I wouldn’t be heading to my parents. I would willingly enter social exile if it meant I could have sex with that man.
I leaned my head against the steering wheel. That had been the most erotic, most intense sexual moment of my life to date. The desire I felt was so intense, it almost scared me.
Now what?
My phone pinged. Distracted, I pulled out the phone and replayed my message.
“Hey, Beth, this is Emily.” She was silent so long, I was sure she’d hung up. “So, I was reading the newspaper, and it says you and Porter are engaged? Um. Do you have time to call me?”
An hour later, I sat on a park bench, my phone pressed to my ear. I had spilled my guts to my best friend, excluding some of the more salacious details, and now, silence screamed down the line between us.
“Say something,” I urged Emily.
“Are you going to sleep with him?” she sounded both fascinated and scandalized at the same time.
“I don’t know.”
“I think you should,” she encouraged me.
“What? You’re supposed to be my voice of reason.”
“I’ve always thought Porter was super hot.”
“Emily.”
She laughed. “It’s his stare. It reminds me of Jackson. He’s all intense and bossy.”
“Yes, that.”
And that kiss. The way his muscular body had pinned me. He’d been gentle but entirely in control. I’d felt safe, cared for and completely dominated. How was that even possible? Every time I recalled the feeling, my stomach felt shaky.
“What about Kirk?” she pressed.
“Who?”
“Kirk Browning. The love of your life?”
“Oh, you mean the father of my future children.”
“Kirk has been your measuring stick for all men. And now Porter makes you forget who Kirk Browning is? I think you like him,” she accused. “You like Porter.”
I dropped my face into my hands. Damn. Leave it to Emily to point out those uncomfortable feelings I worked to avoid. “He’s a friend.”
She snorted. “Did he use his tongue when he kissed you?”
That tongue. It had felt like magic when he’d kissed me.
“Yes.”
“Then, he’s not a friend. Do you think he wants to date you? ”
“Definitely not. He’s using this situation to avoid Felicia, the woman his loves.”
“That doesn’t mean anything.”
Leave it to Emily to be the amusing yet unrealistic romantic.
“I’m pretty sure this situation doesn’t mean anything to him.”
“Would it just be sex?”
“Friends with benefits?” I tried.
She paused so long it made me question every decision I had made in the last five years. “Are you okay with that?”
I could still feel his big hand around my neck while he held me against my car. I shuddered at the memory. “Maybe this is something we both need.”
The smile came through her voice. “I get that.”
“You don’t have to sound so smug.”
“You never know where these things lead.”
“Em, you need to brace yourself. This isn’t going to have some fairy tale ending. With my fake engagement being spread across all of New York, this reads more like a tragedy.”
“How long are you two going to pretend to be engaged?”
“I don’t know,” I answered honestly. “It’s such a mess. Mom promised to plan the wedding of the century.”
“She will, too.”
“All of this because I was pissed at Yates. Because I wanted to wipe that perma-smug look off his face. I need to learn some self-control.”
“I heard something about Yates.”
“What?”
“Kimmy said she heard a rumor that his father is having some financial trouble.”
“What? What kind of trouble?”
“I don’t know all the details, but apparently, it’s significant.”
“How significant?”
Her voice was serious. “Extremely significant.” She was holding something back .
“What else?”
“Kimmy doesn’t know everything.”
Okay. That meant that it was something big, and it was probably about me. “Spill it. Under the fourth agreement of the best friendship act, you’re obligated to tell me.”
“Don’t be mad.”
“Em, I won’t be mad.”
“Because that’s part of the fourth agreement, too. You can’t get mad.”
“Come on, tell me.”
“Kimmy said that’s why Yates is pursuing you again.”
“Why?” I was lost.
“Because.”
“Emily. Help me connect the dots.”
“Your money. Or you family’s money.”
White-hot rage blinded me for a moment. Suddenly, it all made sense. Yates’ family was in crisis. What did a wealthy family do when they were going bankrupt? Anything in their power to reverse the process.
What had Yates said to me at the gala? Quit screwing up his life. Ha! One of the reasons why I'd loved dating Yates was that money had never been an issue between us. We both came from wealthy families. He had his own inheritance. I never had to worry that he was dating me for mine.
He didn’t actually want me back. My face burned hot. All of this, this sham, was a stupid ploy to get to my father’s money. None of this even had anything to do with me.
“Say something,” Emily whispered in my ear. “I can tell you’re mad.”
“I’m not mad,” I said between clenched teeth.
“You are. I shouldn’t have said anything.”
I took three even, deep breaths. “I’m not mad at you, Em.”
“I think there’s a part of Yates that still loves you,” she said in a tiny voice. She was the one person who was always rooting for me. No matter what.
Tears stung my eyes. “I miss you.”
“I miss you, too.”
“When this shit storm passes, you mind if I head down there and spend a week hanging with you?”
“I’d love that. So would Theo.”
“I’m over my head here, Em.”
“You can do it.”
“I need to figure out what I’m doing.”
“You will.”
“Should I sleep with Porter?
“Yes!”
We both laughed.
“Okay.”
“Are you mad about Yates?”
“Livid.”
“Yeah, I thought so.”
“Any parting advice?”
“Yes. Don’t wait until your wedding day to break off your engagement. Sending all those gifts back was a real bitch.”