The gears in his beautiful mind spin again, and I get to witness it as he sits up straighter. The moment he realizes I’ve only ever been with one man.
My heart lurches, watching his expression, waiting, hoping, praying that he believes any part of us is salvageable. I search for any tells, but he’s stone faced.
“If I marry you, it’s on paper only,” he says finally.
I release the breath I’d been holding, relief flowing. I’ll take anything I can get. Especially when I was expecting to have to put up more of a fight. “It has to look real.”
“And it will. But I’m telling you now, this doesn’t mean we’re getting back together.”
“I know.”
The waitress returns with appetizers then takes our orders. “I’m serious, Paddy.”
“There’s one more thing.” I take a bite of antipasto.
“What?”
“Callum wants you to be there tomorrow when we tell the family.”
Griffin groans. His eyes close and he tilts his head toward the ceiling. His groans continue as he throws a bit of a tantrum, but then he’s up again, shaking it off and smiling. The effort is a little too much, and I know he’s forcing his enthusiasm. “Wonderful. I’m going to have dinner with the man who ordered a hit on my father and then covered it up as an act of retaliation. And I get to tell him I fuck his son. Can’t wait for this.”
“Fucked,” I correct, bringing the glass of wine to my lips.
“Sorry?” Giff asks, reaching for a toast with bruschetta on it.
“Fucked. It’s been four months since we’ve been together. Thus past tense.”
He shoots me a wicked grin, leaning forward. “But my cock was in your mouth two weeks ago,” he says, voice all sultry.
Heat flushes my cheeks and the back of my neck. “And you made it clear it wouldn’t happen again.” I pop an olive in my mouth, maintaining eye contact as I chew.
His hand falls on top of mine, his thumb rubbing along my wrist. “I said the marriage would be fake. That doesn’t mean I want separate rooms.”
I clear my throat. Squirming in my seat, I tilt my head. “You want no strings attached?”
Liquid heat swirls in my stomach. This is how we started all those years ago. We both knew it was something more back then. He’d offered to teach me how to be with a man when I admitted the attraction I had for him. No strings, he’d said. Look where that I got us.
I knew it was because he was too afraid to open his heart up to me, then. He didn’t want to fall for me only to be heartbroken if I told him I’d only been curious and I didn’t actually want more from him. And I know now, he’s doing it because he’s worried giving up his already broken heart will be detrimental to his mental health.
I can’t say I blame him because know I’d be the same if he ever cheated on me.
“That didn’t work out so well for us last time, did it Michael?” I finally say.
His face falls, guilt hitting him just as hard as it hits me. “Last time I was a dumb kid who believed I could make your heart fall for me.”
“And now?”
He shrugs, a scowl of defiance on his face. “Despite what you’ve done to me, we’re best friends. We’ve been that way since grade school. So, yeah. I’m gonna do you a solid and marry you so you don’t have to be stuck with someone you don’t care about.”
Dropping his gaze to his plate, he reaches for the glass of water in front of him and takes a sip. My heartbeat falters when he darts his tongue out to wet his lower lip. I can’t help it when my eyes fixate on the now glossy flesh, the desire to lean forward and kiss him so hard to refuse.
I never have any willpower when it comes to him. Now is no different. I’d give anything to openly press my mouth to his, claim him as mine in front of a room full of strangers. I’d do anything to get the chance to have that with him again.
“If I’m going to do this, I want something out of it. I’d imagine sleeping without people would be unreasonable. We’d have to sell this, which means sleeping under the same roof anyway. Might as well make the most of it. Especially because we both know how tense I get when I haven’t had my balls emptied.”
I hold my breath, excitement coursing through me. I made him fall for me before, I can do it again. And this is my opening. “I can make sure that’s taken care of for you.”
A dark chuckle leaves him, the sound smooth like a glass of whiskey, and his thumb draws a line from my wrist to my forearm, then back down again. “Yeah, you can, can’t you, sweet cheeks?”
