Page 74 of Fakers with Benefits

Vlado nodded grimly. “Are you going to tell him?”

I drew in a deep breath. “Not yet.”

He leveled me with a flat look.

“Telling him will just scare him, and it’s not safe for him to leave, not until we neutralize the threat,” I reasoned.

“He has a right to know.”

“I know. And I’ll tell him when the time is right.”

“This is going to backfire when he finds out you lied to him.”

“That’s a risk I’ll take if it keeps him safe.”

“Get some sleep, Ev. We’ll get this handled.”

I nodded and stood. “Tell whoever needs to know that I’ll be ready to leave at eight.”

“Will do.”

Energy crackled under my skin as I headed out of my office. My mind raced as images of all the worst-case scenarios bombarded me. The overwhelming urge to check on Nick hit with the speed and strength of a freight train. I needed to see for myself that he was safe and unharmed.

Not letting myself think too hard about what I was doing, I strode to his room.

A sliver of light shone from beneath his door as I approached. “Nick?” I called softly and rapped on the door.

A moment later it swung open. “Evan?”

He’d changed into a pair of tiny green silk shorts that had deep slits on the sides, and an oversized green crop top, and I instantly lost my train of thought.

The dim light highlighted the long, lean muscles of his stomach. The rounded protrusions of his hips were on full display, as were his incredible legs and muscular thighs.

Heat and blood rushed to my groin as I remembered exactly how those legs had felt wrapped around my waist.

“Is something wrong?” he asked, breaking me free from my daze.

“I wanted to check on you,” I said after a pause. I’d been so focused on just getting to him, I hadn’t thought of an excuse to be knocking on his door at this hour.

“You’re freaking me out. What’s going on?”

“Nothing you need to worry about.”

His expression fell. “Oh. Okay.”

The utter defeat in his voice cut deep, splintering my already-precarious resolve to keep him in the dark.

Vlado was right. Nick deserved to know the truth about everything so he could make an informed decision about what he wanted to do.

“There is something.” I tipped his chin up. “Can I come in and I’ll explain it to you?”

With a nod, he stepped back, his big eyes liquid and so trusting.

Closing the door behind me, I followed him to his bed. He perched on the edge of what I presumed was his side. I sat a few feet in front of him, my body angled toward him as he crossed his legs.

I didn’t get nervous, or anxious. Not easily. And a difficult or pointed conversation was rarely anything for me at all; I had those daily. But for this, I took a fortifying breath. “A few months ago I started receiving threatening letters.”

His eyes rounded in shock but he kept quiet.

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