Chapter 27
CHAPTER
TWENTY-SEVEN
Brad’s been in Alistair’s inner circle far too long to be reckless enough for me to just follow them down the pathway. I need to catch them in a compromising situation, which they’re almost certainly trying hard to avoid being caught in.
Jake’s island tour flashes in my mind.
The trail opposite the one they took leads to the beach, which is its own roundabout path to the bungalows. Outside of paradise’s shade, it’s blazing hot and the kind of detour nobody would expect.
Carrying my plate to avoid suspicion, I turn toward the stairs.
“Can we talk?” Jake’s voice cuts through my plan, and suddenly he’s beside me at the railing.
I want to say no, but the blue fabric of his low-slung swim trunks is clinging to his thighs. His shirt’s unbuttoned, bare chest glistening with sweat and sunscreen.
I close my mouth. Jake’s still my best bet for a willing witness to corroborate my story.
“Fine,” I say and walk down the steps.
He follows after, quietly scanning with the expert eyes that already won him the game. He hangs half a step behind me, like he knows he gave up the right to walk beside me and is waiting to be invited back.
At least now the others will assume I’m heading to the beach to untangle what happened last night with the person who made it happen. Maybe we are. If that’s the toll his presence charges for protecting my cover, fine. I just can’t afford to stand there feeding it quarters.
We walk through the grove, setting our untouched plates on a table while silence and rage knot together in my stomach. Whatever’s in his makes him break first.
“You understand why I did what I did, right? My company. I needed—”
“Jake, why are you doing this? You got ten million dollars. That’s why you’re here. Why do you need my approval?”
His shoulders slump in a picture of remorse so convincing I’d believe him if I hadn’t already fallen for it.
“You’re right. I don’t need your approval.” He hesitates. “I want it.”
“You are so full of shit. Was the whole ally thing your ploy to get me to trust you?”
“No.”
I snort. “Oh, okay. Great.”
“I’m serious. Alistair put me up to it right before dinner. That fucking gift, the drink. It was all him.”
“Not all of it.”
We step onto a short boardwalk that spills us onto a white sandy beach, and Jake rushes beside me to grab for my hand. It takes everything I have to recoil from his touch, but my feet still stop, knowing which direction I want them to take me.
Jake removes his sunglasses, and his turquoise eyes are brighter and deeper with the ocean behind him. The curve of white sand over his shoulder leads toward the bungalows, but those eyes lead me straight to him.
“I’m sorry,” he says.
Pay the toll and move on. I stare at the sand, anywhere but his eyes, and snort again.
“Don’t forgive me. You think I don’t hate myself for what happened? Jesus, this is what he does—manipulates you into admitting your desires, then exploits them.”
“Congratulations. You got what you wanted.”
“Not really.” He exhales. “Marky… this is a fucked-up way to meet. I know. And I know what I did.” He steps in, close enough that my shadow falls over him.
“But I can’t stop thinking about you. That’s the truth.
I’ve never had someone get under my skin like this.
But you’re there, and I—I like it. Don’t go easy on me.
Just tell me if any of this is real for you. ”
His words find the lock on the room inside me, the one that swallowed the boy I used to be and kept him kneeling under my father’s voice. The lock turns. The door shudders once in its frame, and rage slams my shoulder against it before anything can get out.
“You drugged me!”
“I know.” His voice has gone tight. “But it wasn’t dangerous. You said you were fine with drugs.”
My fucking kink list. “I thought it meant smoking a joint, not being knocked unconscious!”
“It was my third test!” He slumps. “I feel awful.”
“Yeah? I was fucking whipped!”
“But you’re already through your second,” he says, and I can tell we’re not on the same page. He might not like being here, but he’s here on purpose.
Never mind the fact that I am too.
“You’ve already done two tests,” he says. “I haven’t heard of anyone moving that fast. It’s fucked up, but you’re almost there.”
His excitement siphons out my anger, and a bit of truth comes with it. “I don’t give a fuck about his tests.”
“You really mean that.” Jake’s eyes dart to mine, his Adam’s apple quivering. “I don’t know why you’re here, but I can tell you do.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“You can trust me.”
“Bullshit.”
“I’m sorry.” He drops to his knees in the sand, hands open at his sides. “Tell me how to help. Give me a rule. Give me some order to follow, and I’ll do it.”
Oh, I’ll fucking tell you what to do.
Something on the other side of that door goes still. It likes him on his knees, asking for a rule, waiting to see what I’ll make of him.
But I keep hold of myself and point to a welt on my arm. “Thanks, but no thanks.”
Turning to leave him groveling in the sand is a new rush, but I’m not sure I can even trust him enough to see me take the beach path to the bungalows. I want to. Despite everything, it’s not just having Jake as a witness or an ally. I want to trust him.
This is the kind of truth that threatens all my lies. Evie owns the roof over my head and the name on my paycheck, but this morning I jerked off thinking about Jake and didn’t have Alistair watching to blame.
He grabs my hand again, and it’s like I’m holding a lit firework. I try wrenching free before I get burned or tricked or seduced by this man who’s somehow so good at manipulating me.
But Jake holds tight, sharpening his gaze above his sandy knees.
“When we get back,” he says, “I’ll finally be out of this fucked-up game. I’d like to see you, and maybe I can earn a second chance. It’s fine if you don’t tell me why you’re here. I still think I can help.”
“How?” I finally rip my hand back, but my quivering voice has given me away.
“Last night Alistair let me share the news with my co-founder. It’s a bad idea, but I think you’re trying to get inside his office.”
I don’t dare blink. How could he know? Am I being that obvious? Does anyone else suspect?
“If you are, I have the code to his Wi-Fi.”
He levels his gaze, and it’s like he can see right through me.
Part of me wants to believe him, but it isn’t any rational bone in my body. It’s the part drawn to his eyes, his smile, and the pleasure pulsing under this whole fucking game.
“The master of the game,” he says. “Lowercase. All one word.”
I stumble back a step. If he’s telling the truth, then he’s just taken a huge risk, and everything he said about wanting me is suddenly real. As real as the shadow slipping under that door to reach for him.
If he’s lying, then he needs to be punished.
He reclaims the ground I gave up, cologne and sunscreen mixing between us until only an inch-wide canyon separates our faces, and once again, he waits for me to cross it.
The first two times had excuses. Alistair was watching in the limo and at that first dinner. Now there’s no one here to perform for.
“It’s… too far,” I whisper, which makes no sense to him because he doesn’t live in my head.
Jake’s smile falters, but he stays there, close enough to ruin me, waiting to see what I’ll do.
And, god fucking dammit, I jump.
My lips crash into his, and my hands drive into his hair. Jake opens for me, one hand closing around my waist and hauling me flush against him.
The kiss turns hungry so fast I lose track of who started it.
He tastes sweet, tropical fruit from breakfast still lingering on his tongue. His fingers spread across my back, and my body loosens against him. I chase the rough sound he makes, and Jake kisses me like he already knows what I want, like he’s been waiting for me to stop lying about it.
I steal his breath because I can’t seem to find my own. Jake feels like a miracle, and I’m too far gone to care how stupid that is. My cock presses hard against him, and I grind closer before I can pretend Wilder is the one doing it.
I trust him. I have to. I don’t care what it costs.
His thumb slips beneath the hem of my shirt, brushing bare skin.
But I do care.
About my story. My cover. Evie.
Each thought lands colder than the last while Jake keeps kissing me. If I let this continue, I don’t just betray her. I risk the only thing I have that can hurt Alistair, betting everything on someone who already handed me over once.
And Jake isn’t the only risk.
Because I want him.
He knew before I did. And nobody wants the truth, least of all me.
I drag my hands from his hair and brace them against his chest. He follows when I pull back, catching my mouth once more before I manage to turn my face away.
“I—I’m sorry,” I whisper, retreating behind the cover of lies.
Jake hides behind his sunglasses. “Me too, Marky. Just… be careful.”
He walks back toward the beach house, and once he’s gone, I start down the beach with no one to see what happens next.