Already, I was trying to find excuses to see her, talk to her. And I found myself calling or texting her daily, just to check in.
I intertwined my fingers with hers, leading her up the stairs and to a balcony off one of the guestrooms. I trusted Tristan to keep an eye on Staci’s cousin. Though I got the feeling Charlotte was more than capable of handling herself.
There was an oversized chair on the balcony, and I grabbed one of the blankets from inside before joining Staci. She was standing with her hands on the rail, surveying the domain. From here, we had a view of the pool and the party below.
I wrapped the blanket around her shoulders, letting my hands linger longer than necessary. “Is this okay?”
“Much better.” She nodded, turning to face me.
“Do you want to sit?”
“Do you think we can both fit?” she asked, casting a doubtful glance at the chair.
I lifted a shoulder, taking a seat on the chair and patting the empty space next to me. “I’m game to try if you are.”
She laughed and took a seat. Despite the heavy blanket separating us, my skin burned everywhere our bodies touched. From my bicep to my knee, we were connected.
“Thanks for coming,” I said as our thighs brushed against each other. “To the game and the party. I know football isn’t really your thing, but it was nice having you here.”
She smiled, flashing me her dimple. “Of course. Charlotte did her best to explain the rules, but I didn’t understand everything.”
“Maybe we can watch a game together sometime,” I said. “I’d be happy to answer any questions.”
“I’d like that.”
“Your dad wasn’t a fan of football?” I asked, knowing I was touching on a sensitive subject.
She shook her head. “He was more into music.”
“So that’s where your talent comes from,” I said.
She burrowed further into the blanket, seeming to shrink into herself. “Yes. He had an amazing voice. He used to sing all the time.”
I wanted to hold her so badly, I ached. But I didn’t know how she’d react. We’d agreed to touch in public, with the assumption that nothing would happen in private. I ignored the warning bells in my head and placed my arm around her shoulder. I justified my actions as comforting a friend. Besides, technically, we were still in public. Anyone could look up at the balcony or walk into the attached guest bedroom and see us.
Staci stilled but then settled into my side. “What about your family?”
“What about them?” I stared ahead, reveling in the feel of holding her in my arms. It had been so long since I’d done this.
“You’ve never mentioned your parents. Do you have siblings?”
I nodded. “I have a younger sister. She lives back home.”
“Where’s that?” she asked, staring out toward the stars and the skyline in the distance.
“Big Sky, Montana.”
“That sounds cold.”
“It is.” I nodded. “But it’s also very beautiful. I think you’d like it there.”
“Yeah?” She sounded intrigued.
“Yeah. It’s this cute little town and everyone is so friendly. And the scenery is breathtaking.” A bit like you, I thought.
“Would you ever want to move back?” she asked.
“Maybe someday,” I said, surprising myself. I hadn’t been back since the accident, but for the first time, I found myself actually wanting to return. “My parents still live there and so does my best friend, Rem.”
“Rem.” She scrunched up her nose. “That’s an unusual name.”
“It’s short for Remington.” I laughed, thinking back to the first time we met. With a name like Remington Alexander, he’d sounded so pretentious. But we’d become fast friends; proof that you couldn’t judge a book by its cover. “But he’s really good with computers and coding, so everyone calls him Rem.”
She laughed and the sound went straight to my heart. It reminded me of all things good and wholesome. Of home. I might not be in Big Sky, but I certainly felt at home with Staci.
“When we were in college we developed an app together.”
“Really? That’s so cool. What kind of app?”
Did she really not know? It was so rare that I met someone who didn’t seem to know everything about me. Well, everything you could learn online, anyway.
“It’s an app for football fans. It changes the way you experience the game. Actually,” I said, pulling my phone from my pocket. “It’s also a great resource for understanding the game. You might find it useful.”
I navigated to the app and gave her a quick overview, explaining the features.
“This is amazing,” she said once I’d finished. “You designed this?”
“Yeah. Me and Rem. He’s the coding expert; I just contributed the football expertise.”
“Well, I’m really impressed.”
“Thank you,” I said. Somehow her praise meant more to me than the billions in my bank account or even all the glowing reviews the app had garnered.
“I feel like there’s so much I don’t know about you,” she said, her tone almost melancholy.
It surprised me that she even cared. I was only her fake boyfriend, after all. Our relationship would end, and she’d move on to Will or some other guy. Still, that hadn’t stopped me from wanting to get to know her despite knowing what a bad idea it was.
“Like what?” I asked.
“I don’t know.” She waved a hand in the air. “Date of birth, middle name, siblings. That kind of stuff.”
“Well, you know I have one sister, and her name is Morgan. She lives in Montana with the rest of my family. My birthday is October second. And…I’m not telling you my middle name.”
Her mouth fell open. “What? Why not?”
I shook my head. “Because it’s awful.”
“It can’t be that bad,” she chided.
“It is. But if you really want to know what it is, you can look it up online,” I teased.
She narrowed her eyes at me. “I’m wouldn’t do that. Plus, isn’t this part of my dating lessons or whatever?”
“Honestly,” I sighed, not wanting to admit the truth. “I don’t think you need dating lessons.”
“You don’t?” she asked, turning to look at me.
“No. You’re doing great.” I tugged her closer, wanting to reassure her. “Why are you so worried about it anyway?”
It was a question that had plagued me since that conversation in the park. Why would someone as beautiful as Staci, as talented and incredible as she was, need dating lessons? Had no one really asked her out before?
“I just am. Okay?” She huffed.
We sat in silence a moment, watching the party below. The music was loud, but distant. And it almost felt as if we were in our own little world. I wanted to pretend we were—at least as long as she’d let me. But I didn’t like the tension that had settled in the air between us.
“I’m sorry if I offended you,” I finally said.
She sighed. “You didn’t. I’m just…embarrassed.” She dipped her head.
I turned to face her, lifting her chin with my finger. “Why? Because you’ve never had a boyfriend?”
She nodded, her eyes glittering with unshed tears. “And because I’ve never been kissed.”
My heart was pounding in my chest. It was so loud I wondered if she could hear it. If she knew that it was beating for her.
“Never?” My voice was gravelly when I spoke.
I liked the idea that her lips were untouched. I wanted to be her first kiss. I wanted to be her only first kiss, and her last first kiss. I wanted to be her everything.
She bit her lip, and my eyes immediately darted to them. Before she could answer though, the door to the balcony opened, and Charlotte appeared.
“Hey guys,” she said, looking a little flushed.
I lowered my hand and backed away as much as was possible on the chair we were sharing. What was I
thinking? I’d told her I wouldn’t kiss her unless she asked me to, and here I was pushing that boundary.
“Staci, do you mind if I go home?” Charlotte asked, interrupting my thoughts.
“Of course not.” Staci stood, going over to her cousin. “Are you okay?”
Charlotte nodded. “I’ll be fine. I just need to rest and some quiet.”
“I’ll come with you,” Staci said, a little too eager for my liking. Had I pushed too far?
“No, no,” Charlotte said, placing her hand on Staci’s arm. “Don’t feel like you need to go home if you’re not ready.”
Staci glanced to me, and I nodded. We’d made an appearance. There was no reason for her to stay, even if I wanted her to.
“It’s fine,” I said, standing as well. I’d enjoyed our time alone more than anything else, and I wasn’t ready for it to end. “Let me tell Tristan we’re leaving.”
Charlotte shook her head. “Thanks, but I already requested a ride on my app. I’ll, uh, I’ll be inside whenever you’re ready,” she said to Staci. “Thanks for inviting me,” she said to me before disappearing back inside.
Staci stood there for a moment, looking up at me with a question in her eyes. Should I hug her? Would she want me to? It was as if all our earlier intimacy had evaporated, and I was at a loss for what to do.
“Thank you, Brandon.”
There was nothing to do but let her go.
“You’re welcome,” I said. “Text me when you get home.”
She nodded. “I will.”
I tried not to be disappointed when she didn’t give me a hug. I walked her and Charlotte to the door, ensuring they were safely in the car before leaving myself. I should’ve been celebrating the fact that we’d won the game, but all I could think about was what could’ve been with Staci.
Chapter Thirteen
Staci
“Sorry to drag you away from the party,” Charlotte said as the road stripes flew past the window.
“Hmm?” I’d been staring outside, replaying my conversation with Brandon. “Oh,” I said, turning to look at her. “Don’t worry about it. I’m not really into parties.”
“Yeah, but I felt bad for taking you away from Brandon. It was clear he didn’t want you to leave.”
“Really?” I frowned. “Why do you say that?”
“Staci, surely you see the way he looks at you?” she asked. “It’s like—” She got a dazed look in her eyes. “Like you’re his universe.”
I shook my head. “No. I mean, he likes me,” I said, tiptoeing around the fact that we weren’t actually dating. “But he doesn’t love me. We only just started dating.”
“Sometimes you just know.” She smiled. “And believe me, that man is totally smitten with you.”
My tongue felt like it was glued to the roof of my mouth, though it didn’t matter. I had no idea what to say to that anyway. She thought Brandon was in love with me? I could’ve laughed at the absurdity of it.
Sure, he was nice to me. Generous. But that was what everyone would expect of a boyfriend. He was an amazing athlete, but an even better actor. Which was why I couldn’t trust my feelings for him.
When we got home, Charlotte disappeared to her room, and I flopped down on the couch in the living room. The room was dark apart from the outdoor lighting. I switched on my phone and opened my text messages.
My fingers hovered over the keyboard as I debated what to say. Charlotte’s comment about Brandon’s feelings had me questioning everything. But I finally settled on something simple.
Me: I made it home. Thanks again for a fun evening.
Brandon: My pleasure.
Three dots danced on the screen to indicate he was typing, and I wondered why I always got so excited to hear from him. I told myself it was because I’d never had a guy interested in me before. But I knew that wasn’t the truth.
Brandon: Can I see you on Tuesday?
Brandon: I know it’s Christmas Eve, but it’s my day off.
His question made me giddy, especially in light of what Charlotte had said. In my head, the lines between real and fake were blurring. So even though I questioned if it was a good idea, I agreed.
When he showed up at my door a few days later, Christmas was only a day away. He was wearing a pair of dark wash jeans and a charcoal sweater. I felt like I hadn’t seen him in weeks, even though it had been days. And we’d talked every night on the phone. But it never seemed like enough, especially not when I knew there was an expiration date on our time together.
He smiled, pushing all thoughts of an expiration date of what was real and fake from my mind. He was here. And I was going to enjoy the time I had with him.
“Merry Christmas,” he said, pulling me in for a hug. “You look very festive.”
“Merry Christmas,” I said into his chest, pulling in a deep breath of his woodsy smell.
“I have something for you,” he said as he released me.
“You do?” I asked, watching as he revealed a small velvet box with a red bow, which he placed in my hands.
I untied the bow and opened the box to reveal a pair of silver angel wings nestled on a velvet cushion. They sparkled in the light, and they were absolutely beautiful. I’d never seen anything like them, not that I often shopped for jewelry. But still, they were somehow delicate yet sculptural.
“It’s…wow,” I said, lifting the chain so I could get a better look. “It’s beautiful.”
He took it from my fingers, his own dancing with mine in the process. I watched with fascination as he gracefully handled the exquisite chain. “May I?”
I turned so my back was to him, lifting my hair and pulling it aside. He grazed the skin of my collarbone with his fingers sending goosebumps racing along my skin. His touch was so light it felt like a feather. Like the feathers that adorned the beautiful wings of my necklace.
“There.” It was only when he spoke that I realized how close his mouth was to my ear.
I glanced up, our eyes connecting in the reflection of the hall mirror. He stood behind me, tall and proud. And I couldn’t deny how good we looked together with his hands resting lightly on my shoulders. For a moment, it was all too easy to let myself fall into the fantasy that we were a real couple.
“Beautiful.” His voice was gruff. And even though I knew he was referring to the necklace, it felt like the words were intended for me.
“Thank you,” I said, unable to tear my eyes away from his.
When I finally did, the silver wings sparkled in the light as if they were coated in the dust of diamonds. I briefly wondered if they were but then shook away the thought. I was a fake girlfriend. You didn’t buy expensive jewelry for someone you were only pretending to date. It was a nice gesture, another component of our story. Nothing more.
He let his hands fall from my shoulders, and I turned to face him.
“I, um, got you something too,” I said, though I was now second-guessing my gift. What did you give a man who could literally buy anything he wanted?
I pulled a small package out of my pocket. After seeing how elegant his gift was, I was a little embarrassed about my own. It felt too homely, too cheesy. But it was too late now.
He grinned when he spotted the Santa Claus paper. “Cute.”
It didn’t seem like he was teasing. He seemed genuinely…delighted. Huh.
He tore the paper carefully, like one would savor an expensive bar of chocolate. When he opened the box, he stared at the flash drive for a minute, probably wondering what it could possibly contain.
“Here’s the rest of it,” I said, handing him a sheet of paper where I’d written all the song titles and added festive doodles like Santa hats and candy canes.
My heart rate kicked up, adopting the pace of some of the faster-paced tunes on the flash drive. When he’d told me he loved my voice, I’d decided to make him a compilation of my favorite Christmas tunes. Though I’d shared a few videos of my singing online, this was different. It was more personal, more
vulnerable.
“Is this…did you sing all the songs on here?” he asked, and I couldn’t decipher his expression.
I squinted up at him. “Yeah. Is it too cheesy?”
He shook his head. “Definitely not. I absolutely love it, and I can’t wait to listen to it. This is really special,” he said, and I knew he meant it. He pulled me in for another hug and warmth spread through my limbs. “Are you ready?”
My tongue felt like it was glued to the roof of my mouth, and the most I could manage to say was, “Yep.”
Once we were both inside his truck and buckled up, he reached for the flash drive I’d given him. “Oh no, no,” I said, covering the USB port with my hand.
“What?” he asked. “I want to listen to my gift.”
“Please don’t make me listen to myself sing.” It was already personal enough sharing it with him, but having to watch his reaction for every song would be more than I could bear.
“Why not? I watch film of myself playing football every week.”
“Yeah, but that’s different,” I said, really hoping he wouldn’t push the issue.
He smirked. “If you say so.”
“I say so,” I said, relieved when he pulled out of the driveway and onto the road, switching the radio on instead.
The drive was short and we spent most of it dissecting his most recent game. Now that he’d shown me how to access the app, and I understood some of the basic rules, I found it incredibly interesting. I had so many questions, and Brandon patiently answered them all until I got distracted by the fact that he was pulling into a parking garage. Where was he taking me?
He parked, waiting for me as I climbed down from his truck. Once I was safely on the ground, he took my hand in his. His skin was warm against mine, and I knew he was only doing it because we were in public. That said, there was no one around. But I wasn’t going to stop him. I liked it too much.
Catching the Billionaire Page 10