by Tessa Teevan
Sighing, I can tell by the look in his eyes that he’s not going to let me slip away easily. I resign myself to that fact and sit back in my chair, but not before I notice that Branson’s not letting go of my hand.
“Okay, honey,” I say between clenched teeth, not missing the way Cohen’s eyebrows rise. Leaning in, I place a kiss on Branson’s cheek, hoping to satisfy Cohen’s curiosity. “Go ahead and tell him.”
Branson gives me a fake smile then turns back to his brother. “Remember last Christmas when I left town for a week?” Cohen nods, and Branson continues. “I went down to Atlanta to work on some stuff with Shane. Ariana and I met in the hotel bar. One thing led to another, and well, here we are.”
“Wait? What? Are you serious?” Cohen asks, clearly confused, and I jump in.
“Well, it’s not exactly that cut-and-dry. But you know your brother—always quick and to the point, not exactly the best storyteller. One thing did not lead to another. We spent the evening talking,” I inform him, not wanting him to get the wrong impression.
“So why the Christmas bender then?” Cohen directs the question at his brother, and I cock an eyebrow.
Branson looks between the two of us then pulls our joined hands up to his lips, where he gives mine a lingering kiss. Okay, so maybe he’s not a great storyteller, but the man can act when he needs to.
“Because, when I woke up the next morning, she was gone. No note, no phone number. Nothing. And I thought I’d lost her.”
Cohen chuckles then shakes his head. “Damn, I can relate. And now it all makes sense. No wonder you were such a mess. Been there, done that, felt the pain.”
At this point, I have no idea what’s going on anymore. I just let the brothers talk it out.
“It wasn’t until recently that we reconnected, and I knew I had to take my own advice. Do whatever I could to hold on to her so she wouldn’t slip through my fingers again. And fortunately for me, she said yes. This time, I made sure to get her name,” he tells Cohen, giving him a playful smile.
“Well, hell. It’s a surprise, but it’s damn good to see you happy. You deserve it, Branson, and I mean that.”
I watch as a sad smile forms on Branson’s lips, and I can tell that, while he appreciates his brother’s words, he doesn’t quite believe them. For some reason, that brings a pang of sadness to my heart, and for his sake, I wish the story weren’t a lie.
“Okay, all of this excitement is wearing me down, and if it’s okay with you two, I think I’m going to get some rest,” Branson says with a yawn.
Cohen nods. “I’ll tell the rest of the family just to come by later. Maybe one-on-one instead of overwhelming you with everyone’s presence all at the same time. Plus, knowing how Mom’s been with Charlie’s wedding, she’s going to be enough of a handful. Nice to meet you, Ari. And you,” he says, pointing at Branson, “take it easy. You’ll be outta here soon enough.”
With that, he leaves. I take my hand out of Branson’s and turn to follow his brother. Branson catches my arm, and when I turn back to him, he beckons me closer. I feel like I’ve been on a Ferris wheel for the last hour, going around and around but not actually getting anywhere. I’m starting to feel exhausted.
“Come here,” he says, patting the empty space on the bed beside him.
I’m slowly but surely beginning to get used to his demanding tone, strangely finding it alluring and downright sexy.
Rising out of the chair, I move until I’m sitting next to him, not missing the way our thighs are touching. A shiver of excitement rolls down my spine, but I instantly brush it off, feeling like a fool for having any sort of lustful thoughts while he’s lying here broken and bruised from the car accident.
He brings a hand up to the base of my neck, those shivers returning almost instantaneously. It’s the strangest occurrence, because even in my two years with Benjamin, I never felt these sensations or this out of sorts. I feel the need to flee, to get away from this man so I can regroup. It’s just some sort of weird savior complex, a Jane-needs-Tarzan type of reaction, and I tell myself that, after the whirlwind of the last twenty-four hours, it’s okay that my emotions are all over the place.
Looking down at him, I find our faces merely inches apart, and I lick my lips in anticipation of his kiss. Or what I think is going to be his kiss. He must feel me shiver because his smile turns cold. The heat of his touch vanishes, turning my blood to ice.
“Don’t mistake this for anything other than pretend, Ariana.”
I pull back, surprised and a little irritated at the sudden change in his demeanor. “Is it really that easy? Can you really pretend that you’re in love with someone you barely know? Because that kiss? That didn’t feel like pretend. That felt real. And so does this.” I have no idea where this brazen hussy has come from, but when I bring my hand between his legs, even I can feel his erection between the thick blankets.
For a split second, he closes his eyes, his jaw tightening and his thighs clenching, but when he reopens them, I see cold, dark steel and I know the moment’s been lost. For some strange reason, that bothers me more than it should. I need to get away, to put distance between us before I start believing I’m his for real. But just as I start to move off the bed, his hand catches my wrist as he pulls it away from the blanket, away from the feel of him, hard and wanting.
The silence is deafening, nothing but the sounds of beeping and my labored breathing between us as he ignores my question. I’m about to turn away when the hand at the back of my neck pulls me in, causing my lips to crash down on his for the second time.
I want to protest, and I try to push against him, but he’s holding me tight and my resolve is beginning to falter. My lips betray me when his tongue pushes against them, parting immediately for his entrance. Instead of continuing to push him away, my hands ball into tiny fists in his hospital gown as I try to move closer to him, ignoring the pain in my ribs as I drink in every last drop he’ll give me, knowing I may never get a taste of him again.
This kiss stirs something in me, and I never want it to end. For the first time in forever, I feel something behind a kiss. Passion. Longing. Possession, even, and I don’t want those burning desires to start swirling in my belly to be under false pretenses. I want them to be real. I want him to claim me.
But all too soon, the spell I’m under is broken and he’s pulling away, his eyes getting droopy as he leans back against the bed. And then he finally answers me.
“Yes, Ariana, it will be that easy. That’s what I do. It’s who I am. A pretender. I spent the last decade acting like I was in love. Another week won’t hurt me. I’d suggest you learn to do the same.”
The warmth I felt from his kiss fades away, and it’s all I can do to get out of his room without breaking down. This mess, this giant mess I’ve created, just got far more complicated than I’d ever intended.
IT’S BEEN nearly a week since I both drew Ari in and then simultaneously pushed her away. It wasn’t my intention to kiss her. At least not the first time. The second time though? I couldn’t help myself. The way she was looking at me, like I really was her hero, almost like she wished this whole façade were true, unnerved me. The moment she placed her hand on my erection, I could no longer control myself. I wanted to possess her. I wanted to haul her up into my bed, demanding that she finish what she’d started. And with the way she returned my kiss, I had a feeling that she would’ve complied with my request, which was enough to freak me out, my inner asshole taking over. I couldn’t afford to have her feeling anything for me or thinking this could turn into something real. It’s just not possible. It’s not in the cards for me, and knowing that she had just run away from some other poor fool, I couldn’t trust her judgment any more than I could trust mine.
So for the past week, we’ve both put our best acting skills to use. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say we were a pretty damn good couple. And it’s coming back to bite me in the ass. Big time. Mom loves her. Charlie and Andi think she’s a perfect
fit. Not once have I seen her check out either of my brothers. And from the stolen moments we’ve had alone, we’ve gotten to know each other and I’m surprised to find that she’s intelligent and witty and she doesn’t give a shit about appearances. In one week, I’m more than convinced I’ve found the polar opposite of Megan, a fact that almost has me proposing for real.
A soft knock interrupts my thoughts, and I smile inadvertently when I see her at the door dressed in a pair of jeans and a T-shirt.
“Hey,” she says softly, nibbling on her lower lip, letting me know she’s nervous about something, but I’m not sure what.
Although she acts at ease whenever my family’s around, she gets a little shy when we’re alone, and I’m hoping to break her of that soon. Oh hell. I don’t even know why I’m thinking that, especially since soon she’ll be long gone. Unexamined anger wells within me at the thought, because for a week, she’s been mine, even if it’s been pretend. And I’ve never been known to give up easily.
“Morning,” I tell her, happy that the scratchiness of my throat’s dissipated. I’m slowly healing, and while I’m much better off than I was a week ago, I’d be happier if I were recuperating at home. “Finally out of the gown, I see?”
She looks down at her clothes then back at me. “Oh, yeah, finally. Thankfully Charlie and I are the same size, so she lent me some clothes. It’s just…” She pauses and lets out a sigh.
I pat the side of my bed, and she crosses the room, sitting next to me—a position she’s occupied more times than not over the last seven days.
“Looks like they’re letting me loose today.”
Taking hold of her hand, I squeeze reassuringly. “Hey, that’s great, right?” I ask, not sure why she seems upset about the fact.
Her hand comes up to tuck a loose strand behind her ear. “Oh, yeah, it’s great. Hospitals aren’t exactly my favorite place. It’s just… When I left Atlanta, I had no idea where I was going. I still don’t. All I know is I don’t want to go back there. And well, with this…” she says, holding up her ring. “I don’t know what to do about this either.”
Damn. The idea of this ending sucks. I’ve found that I’ve truly enjoyed having her around. She’s a breath of fresh air in the wasteland that’s been my latest existence, and for some reason, there’s something about her that makes me feel like I can finally make my way out of this darkness that’s descended over me this past year. Her laugh brings me light, her concern gives me warmth, and she makes me feel like I’m better man, a different man. I think it’s partially because of how my family is around her. How they act around me now that she’s here. Even though they’ve tried to bring me back into the fold since my divorce, I’ve still felt like an outsider. But not anymore, and I’m not sure I’m ready to let that go. I haven’t needed— or, hell, wanted—anyone in a long time, and that alone scares the hell out of me.
Just as I’m about to ask her about a hotel so maybe she can stick around for a while, the doctor walks in, smiling when he sees us together. “Hey, you two. I have a feeling I’m about to make you very happy.”
We look at each other and then back at the doctor with confusion.
“As you know, Ariana’s getting released today, and after going over your charts and your progress, as long as you’re not alone, I feel comfortable discharging you as well, Branson.”
“Oh, that’s perfect news!” I hear Mom’s excited squeal as she and Dad enter the room just in time to hear the doctor.
“Wait? What?” Ari asks, shock lacing her voice.
At the same time, my ex-wife decides to join the party, because why not? My life’s not enough of a circus already. She rushes to my side, completely discounting Ariana, fake concern etched on her face. “I heard you were ready to come home. I’ll be more than happy to nurse you back to good health.”
Ariana’s eyes widen and she slowly removes her hand from mine as she stands, brushing off her jeans. She starts to back away, but I grab her wrist and bring her back into my side. “Stay,” I growl, and she stiffens but doesn’t move away.
The doctor looks at us questioningly, my mother huffs a loud sigh, and I echo the sentiment.
“As I was saying… Branson’s vitals are strong and his progress has been quicker than expected. If he lived alone, I wouldn’t feel comfortable releasing him just yet, but if you’ll be there to help him out, then I think we can arrange for him to be discharged,” he says, looking straight at Ariana, who swallows hard.
“Oh, well, we aren’t living together…” she responds, trailing off as I squeeze her fingers. She looks down at me, questions in her eyes.
“Looks like we are now, baby,” I tell her, daring her to say otherwise.
Something passes between us, and she slowly nods then looks up at the doctor.
“Well, if that’s what it takes for him to be discharged, I guess I can learn to play nurse. At least for the time being.”
“Excellent,” the doctor replies, closing the chart. “I’ll get the paperwork together and we’ll have you two out of here in no time.”
The room is silent as he leaves, and I feel claustrophobic as I’m locked in between my past and my present. Dad clears his throat and gestures towards Megan, who’s looking down at me with a strained smile on her face.
“Megan, what the hell are you doing here?”
“I play tennis with one of the doctors on staff, and she mentioned you may be getting out soon. I figured you’d need someone to take care of you, and I thought it would be a good time for us to patch things up,” she says, her voice trembling, something I know is all too fake coming from her.
Mom sighs again, and Ariana just looks around, clearly having no idea what’s going on.
“Megan, we’ve been divorced for months,” I explain. “There’s nothing to figure out, and we’re certainly as hell not going to patch anything up. And while I appreciate you thinking of taking care of me, as you can see, you’re not needed here. So please just get the hell out before you upset my fiancée.”
I know I shouldn’t have said that. Telling Megan that I’m engaged is practically the same as putting an announcement in the newspaper, but some part of me wanted her to see that I’ve moved on. That I’m not that same sucker I’ve been for the past twelve years.
She looks up and her eyes widen almost as if she’s seeing Ariana for the first time. She takes a moment to check her out then stiffens when she spots the ring on her finger. “Well, well. It certainly didn’t take you long to move on now, did it? I can tell by that rock she’s just another whore going after your money.” With a haughty laugh, she starts to walk out the door, stopping to take one last parting shot. “Looks like you’ve just traded in one for another. So much for you actually wanting to find real love. Enjoy your new little trophy wife. Let’s hope she’s not as frigid as she looks.”
Mom gasps, and Dad rolls his eyes, but when I look at Ariana, I’m surprised to see amusement in her expression.
“I’d say you know how to pick them, but I wouldn’t want to insult myself,” she teases.
For some reason, it gets to me. I pull her down onto my chest, and for the first time in a week, I kiss her again, the need to stake my claim nearly overwhelming me.
And this time, I have no idea if I’m pretending or not.
HE’S KISSING me again like he means it this time, and I don’t know what to feel. What to think. Or even how to act at this point. When he pulls away, his hand palms my cheek, his eyes boring into mine, and I want to know if this is real or fake. Because it sure as hell feels real. And if it’s not, then I need to jump ship, because if I stay in this limbo, I’m going to drown and I don’t think Branson will be there to save me this time. No, not when he’s the one pulling me underwater.
When I entered his room this morning, I had a feeling that the goodbyes were inevitable. I was being discharged and had no reason to stick around Nashville. No reason, that is, other than him. For some reason, I’d been okay with hospital delaying my re
lease. Then, when Kim told me that it was time for me to hit the road, I felt a weird twinge of disappointment. Because even though Branson’s been playing hot and cold for the last week, I’ve been getting used to being around him. To seeing his family. And even in the quiet moments when we’ve been alone, I’ve started to enjoy, and to expect, his company. So the thought of saying goodbye hurt worse than I had imagined it would.
But all thoughts of goodbye went out the window when the doctor came in. I never, in a million years, thought anyone had expectations of us living together, especially since they know now that I live in Atlanta, but the minute Branson said that I’d be staying with him, I knew I couldn’t back out. I owed him at least that much, and then, when his bitch of an ex-wife showed up, I knew I couldn’t leave. So I agreed, and then he pulled me in for the hottest kiss of my life.
Here I am now, reeling from the feel of his lips on mine yet again.
His kiss is slow and sweet, and I have to fist my hands in the bed sheets to keep myself from running my hands through his hair as I fight the urge to deepen the kiss. A throat clears behind us, and Branson grins against my lips before giving me one last peck and pulling away. I’m about to turn to face his parents when he catches my chin with his hand.
“You were right, you know?” he tells me, laughing at my puzzled expression. “I didn’t know how to pick them. And that’s not an insult to you, since you’re the one who picked me.” His hand comes down to capture mine, where he rubs a thumb over my engagement ring.
I grin down at him. “If it makes you feel any better, my taste was pretty damn lacking, too. I think that’s changing. And as far as frigid? She couldn’t be further from the truth,” I tease, giving him a saucy wink.
When he groans and leans back against the bed, a feeling of satisfaction washes over me as he tries to discreetly adjust himself.