Page 40 of Faking It with my Best Friend's Brother

Even then I don’t look at the car when someone yells, “Get a fucking room!"

I ignore the man, staring down at Ava's lust-flushed face, her eyes filled with a passion that probably echoes mine. It nearly has me diving back for more, but I stop myself. She’s as lost in this thing as I am, and I’ve never swam so deep. Never wanted to go so deep with anyone.

I need to figure out what the fuck this is and what the fuck is going on.

I back away and rub my hand over my face, walking away to regain a semblance of control. It’s hard to breathe because I have her scent in my nostrils, still feel her in my arms. Fuck, my fucking hands are shaking. They still have the imprint of her on them too. I turn away from her and face the hospital, trying to distract myself by mentally measuring the dimensions.

Ten acres. Five floors. Twenty-five hundred square feet.

Soft succulent skin and peaches and cream.

Whatever it is, it can’t happen, I tell myself. I can’t control it, which makes it dangerous. Plus, I might be a bastard in a lot of things, but one thing I never messed with was single moms. That would involve her child in my drama and I don’t need that.

Add that to the list of reasons this can’t happen. Also, the fact that she’s an innocent, she’s working for me and she deserves better than whatever it is I can give her. She has an adorable little daughter that she supports.

And Chloe. She is her friend. I can’t screw this for Chloe.

This needs to end here.

“When you said what you said...” Her voice is breathless and she clears it before she continues. “When you said what you said, you meant that I would work it off with…work, right? Not this?”

I smile. I don’t blame her for clarifying even though I’ve made it clear that I have never and would never pay for a woman to sleep with me.

“What do you take me for, honey?” I ask turning around and assuming a nonchalance I don’t feel. “Yes, you’re working it off with work, not fun. Speaking of which, I don’t think we should have any ‘fun’ anymore.”

“I agree,” she says firmly.

I nod again, to make it even. “So, we probably shouldn’t do this again.”

“Right, of course.”

“Right.”

But I don’t think either of us manages to convince ourselves much less each other.

***

Later that night, I finally answer my mother’s phone call.

“Maddox Reign,” she says. “Do you despise me?”

“No, Mother. I just sometimes get busy with this thing called work and it keeps me from hearing the voice of the woman I love the most. Plus, Chloe tells me deprivation is good for the soul, and what is more depriving than not hearing your voice every day?”

“Ha ha, very funny. Now, are you going to tell me what I want to know or are you going to make me beg for that too?”

“What would you like to know, Mother?”

"Her name, for example.”

I shift on my loveseat and swirl the glass of brandy in my hand. “Her name is Ava Lawrence.”

"Ava.” I could instantly sense the snobbery in her voice. “Isn’t the name a little...common?”

“Should be. She’s as common as we are. Grew up in Louisiana and only moved to Cali for college. And she's not a debutante either. She works, for me."

“You’re dating your employee?” My mother sounds appalled even though I know she's not morally opposed to it. If the employee had a last name like Hilton, then she would be all too happy to support the relationship.

“Yes. It’s modern times and it’s not like there's a policy at my company. Even if there is, I’m the boss.”

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