Page 39 of The Fake Affair

I feel the word as I say it.Girlfriend.Not a decoy. Not an act. And God, it lands like truth in my mouth, truth that feelsgoodto say out loud.

“Your girlfriend?” He smirks. “Come on, Fraser. We all know this relationship is just to please the board. The Logan Fraser I know doesn’t do commitment?—”

I step closer. “The Logan Fraser you know doesn’t exist anymore. And if you touch her one more time, I’ll ensure you never work in tech investment again.”

Werner balks at this, his easy swagger vanishing quickly as his pupils widen. “Are you threatening me?”

“Promising.” I smile, but there’s nothing friendly about it. “Now get out.”

He leaves, but not before shooting Bella one last look. “When you’re tired of playing this game with him, call me.”

I suppress the overwhelming urge to punch his back and turn to Bella because she needs me more right now. “Are you?—”

“I’m fine.” She straightens her dress. “I could have handled that.”

“I know.”

“Then why did you?—”

“Because you’re mine.” The words land before I can edit them, and they hit me just as hard as they hit her. My voice is rougher than I meant it to be, my accent thick, the sound of it wrapping around what we both know. “And I’m tired of pretending that it’s just for show.”

“Logan...”

“I’ve watched other men look at you for years,” I admit, my voice hoarse with unrestrained intensity. “At every event Audrey dragged you to. Every corporate function.”

She shifts slightly, her lips parting, but I keep going because if I stop now, I won’t have the strength to say any of it. “But I stayed away because you were off-limits. Because I couldn’t risk?—”

“Risk what?”

“Falling for my sister’s best friend.” Here it is at last. The truth, laid bare between us. And now that I’ve spoken it, I realize the whole idea of fake dating might have been a way to guard my own heart. A lie I told myself to stay in control. A low sound catches in my throat, more hollow than amused, like laughter stripped of its purpose. As if I ever had control where Bella is concerned. As if I could ever be near her without wanting more.

“Again?” Bella looks utterly confused, her lips parted, cheeks rosy. God, she’s so beautiful it makes my heart hurt.

I exhale bitterly and drag both hands through my hair like it might slow the rush of thoughts careening inside me. My fingers clench behind my neck, and I have to pace a step away from her just to breathe.

God, this is harder than any negotiation I’ve ever sat through. Harder than any deal, any loss, any win. Because this isher, and she’s looking at me like she wants the truth. The real one. Not the performance I’ve perfected.

I stop in front of the window, watching the city blur behind the glass. The lights mean nothing right now. None of it does.

“Why do you think I avoided you after we kissed at that graduation party? It wasn’t because you insulted me with Shakespeare. It was because you saw right through me, and I couldn’t...”

Her question is a whisper, as if she can hardly believe what I’m saying. “Couldn’t what?”

“Couldn’t risk wanting something real.” I meet her eyes, fully now. No shields. No charm.

“Someone real.”

“Logan, are you sure about what you’re talking about?” Her eyes are fixed on mine, wide and unreadable at first, like she’s trying to catch up to the moment. Her mouth is still slightly open, and her brows knit in that subtle, almost involuntary way she gets when she’s trying not to feel too much all at once.

I trace her jaw with my thumb. My hand lingers, barely grazing her skin. “I am. I’m done pretending.”

“Logan,” she warns but doesn’t pull away. Her breath hitches, just slightly, but it’s enough. I see it in the way her lashes lower, in the way her lips part like she’s already imagining what would happen if we were alone. Her body doesn’t move, but everything about her is strung tight, wound up, as if the slightest nudge would send us both unraveling. “We’re at a charity event.”

“I don’t care.”

My eyes drop to her mouth and all I can think about is how badly I want to taste her again. My fingers slide to the back of her neck, into her hair.

Her laugh is shaky. “You’ve worked too hard to?—”

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