Page 50 of Fauxmance in the City

There wasn’t much space in the little passageway beside the DJ booth, and Sam’s arm brushed mine, sending a shiver rushing across my skin. Pressing his shoulder into the wall, he turned sideways and faced me, never breaking eye contact.

“Hi,” he said again. He drew his hand down the coarse brick wall until the pads of his fingers rubbed against the bottom hem of my short skirt. His pinky grazed my thigh, and my knees quivered.

“Hi.” I tipped my forehead sideways, resting it on his temple, breathing in his warm, earthy scent. “You smell nice.”

“You feel nice.” He tucked his hand behind my thigh and lifted my leg. I grabbed his shirt, and he swung my calf around his left side, so I was flush against him from chest to hips.

I was dizzy from the delicious sensations of his body against mine, his hand gently massaging my leg.

“I should go,” he said.

“Okay,” I said, disappointed. “Wait. Sa—”

He hitched forward and sealed my mouth with his lips, cutting me off. I gasped, vacuuming our lips together with the intake of air. His tongue flicked against the seam of my mouth, and I trembled, accepting every part of what he offered—his tongue, lips, breath, soul. And then, like a rush of wind through a tunnel, he released me.

“Come home with me.” His voice was thick with heat.

A soft warmth spread into my sex as I imagined taking this bite and turning it into a meal in his bed. I wanted this. Bad. But…

“I can’t.” My stomach roiled, wishing I had the guts to say yes. But I didn’t want it like this. I wanted Sam sober, asking me to come with him because he wanted me, not because he was drunk.

“I won’t hurt you.” The soft pillows of his lips pressed gently to mine, and I almost believed him.

“Ask me again tomorrow,” I said, my lips tickling his as I spoke. Yes. We could have a redo tomorrow. Then I’d know it wasn’t just the alcohol talking. If I was going to take this leap, I had to be sure Sam was serious.

“I ask you every week.”

I laughed, hot air flowing from my lips and ricocheting off his skin. “I want more than a silly text,” I admitted.

“I’ll give you everything you want.”

I sucked in a sharp breath, sobering. Is this how Sam did it? Was this how he seduced all those women? Intoxicating them with his lips, his words, and his promises?

“I want to believe you. But I don’t. Not yet.” A flash of hurt skittered across his eyes. “Say all this to me again tomorrow. Then I’ll know you mean it.”

He released my thigh, and I wobbled on my heels. The space between us filled with cold, empty air. “I’m tired of chasing after you.”

“I’m not asking you to chase me. I’m asking you for one more day.”

A dark shadow crossed over his face. “I’m standing here telling you I want you. Haven’t I shown you that I’m more than that damaged man who broke your cousin’s heart? I’m whole again. And I want to be whole with you.”

I shook my head, unable to clear away the uncertainty. Sam was whole, but was I? Christophe haunted me. We were still married. What did that say about me? I should’ve filed divorce papers long ago, but I couldn’t. I’d failed at love, and I couldn’t risk having my heart destroyed again. I wouldn’t recover from it.

“I’m not sure I’m ready.” I ducked my head, hiding the pain.

“Catie.” He took my hand, but I snatched it away.

“No.” I met his eyes. I needed him to leave. I couldn’t think with him this close to me. My airway was tightening, and I could feel an attack oncoming. “Go home, Sam. We’ll talk tomorrow. I’ll come to your office.”

“Sure, Catie.” He shook his head, defeated. “Sure.”

After he left, I traced my fingers over my raw lips. He was drunk. It was late. This wasn’t the moment to suddenly confess our feelings.

Without a word to Aryan, or anyone, I left the bar and walked home. It was a Thursday night—the unofficial start of the weekend—and the streets in the East Village were filled with patrons of the bars and clubs that lined the sidewalks, but my mind was filled with Sam.

Tomorrow I’d go to him and ask him to say it all again, and then we’d turn our game into a sweet reality.

All night I was consumed by what happened at the club with Sam. The kiss. His words. The confession. I woke up excited and full of hope.

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