He sighed. “It makes me look like a vampire. An anemic one at that.”
He’d been fussing over his appearance for almost an hour now. First, it had been his hair and his “stupid cowlick”, then his skin, which he’d pronounced was too freckled. I happened tofind his freckles sexy as hell, but what did I know? I was only the other half of his soul—not that he knew that yet, and I wasn’t sure how to break the news.
“The gray one,” I said firmly. It wasn’t a suggestion. He needed direction, so that was what I gave him.
He didn’t answer, but he picked up the pewter-gray shirt as instructed and disappeared into the bathroom with it, his shoulders hunched. When he came out a few minutes later, he was dressed, at least, though it didn’t seem to make him any more prepared to leave.
I hated seeing him like this, getting down about his appearance when there was absolutely nothing wrong with him. He was perfect just the way he was. It made me itchy and unsettled the longer this went on, his body spooling tighter with each passing minute. When I’d had just about enough, I rolled off the bed and crowded him by the dresser. “Arrête,” I demanded in a low growl.
Fable’s arms dropped to his sides, and he turned to look up at me, his eyes red-rimmed like he was holding back tears. “What?” he snapped.
Reaching down, I took his wrist, peeling open his fist and massaging his fingers to get the blood flowing again. “What is really bothering you? It’s not the shirt, not your hair or your freckles. What’s wrong?”
His lower lip quivered, and he ducked his head, avoiding my gaze. “It’s stupid.”
Hooking a finger under his chin, I brought his gaze up to mine. “Tell me.” I waited for him to tell me to back off, but instead, he leaned into me a little, reaching up to toy with one of my shirt buttons. He probably wasn’t even aware he was doing it, but human or not, he felt the bond. It was impossible to ignore.
He blew out a sigh, then to my surprise, he opened up to me, showing me just a sliver of his vulnerability. “I was a goodstudent in high school, ambitious and outgoing. I was in all the clubs—chess, debate, photography, improv, yearbook. I was so excited to get the hell out of this small town and make something of myself. Thanks to my grades, I was offered a scholarship to Stanford, so I moved to California and got a degree in data science. But then I graduated and… I found I just didn’t care. I had no passion for what I’d been studying. I didn’t want to go home either, tail tucked between my legs, so I got a job that paid the bills. And I guess time just kinda got away from me. I feel like I’m right back where I started. And that’s fine, I guess, there’s nothing wrong with what I’m doing, but how am I supposed to look these people in the eye and admit I went absolutely nowhere? I have nothing to show for the life I’ve led; no career, no spouse, no kids.” He took a shuddery breath. “All the things I thought I would have by now… you know?”
“I do know,” I said, turning him to face me fully, cupping his jaw. “Of course I do. I’ve watched all my friends and family find their mat—um, matches. I’m the cool uncle a dozen times over, but never a dad. I’m trying to get my business off the ground, but even if I make it big, it’s just money. It will all feel like a runner-up to the future I’ve always wanted. I keep getting all these looks of pity for being the lonely aging alpha, but I refuse to settle for second best. I want to know that when I finally settle down, it’s with the right person. The one fate meant for me…”
Fable smiled softly, almost sadly. “That’s really sweet. Whoever you end up with is a lucky omega.”
It was like being doused with a bucket of ice water. “Right. Lucky.” I thought he’d felt it too, but maybe I was wrong. I let my hands drop. “So, that explains the escort you hired, I guess. He was going to play your husband?”
Fable’s cheeks glowed pink, and he chuckled as he dropped to sit on the end of the bed to put his socks on. “You got me. I’mso scared of their judgment that I’m willing to lie to all these people, my so-called friends.”
I sat slowly down beside him, the mattress dipping under my weight. I could fix this for him. Doubt squirmed in my gut, but I forced the words past my lips. “What about me? I know I’m not a doctor or a lawyer, but I could play the role of husband for the night… if you want.”
He looked up sharply, his blue eyes made larger by his glasses, so blue I found myself wanting to swim in them. “Y-You would do that for me?”
“Of course,” I admitted with a shrug. I thought of the texts from my friends inviting me to dinner and promptly dismissed them. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”
“That would be… You’re amazing!” he gasped, and in his eagerness, his hand darting out to grab my leg, his fingers skating up my sensitive inner thigh. I jolted from the shock of his hand on my body, and he pulled back, blushing. “Sorry, I guess I’m just a little excited.”
“No problem,” I said, forcing a laugh as I tried to brush it off, even as my entire body felt lit up from within. “Besides, as my fake husband, it would be weird if youdidn’ttouch me.” I took his hand and put it back where it was.
All laughter died off as we both looked from that point of contact, then up to gauge each other’s reaction. I could see his pulse racing along the column of his throat. Nope, nothing funny about this.
Clearing his throat, Fable stood on wobbly legs. His eyes raked down my body, assessing. “You don’t happen to have a suit, do you?”
“Let me see what I can do.” I dug all the way to the bottom of my bag to pull out my rolled-up dress pants and a dark button-up. They were my conference clothes, but it looked like theywould be doing double-duty. I disappeared into the bathroom to get myself ready.
It took a long moment of gripping the edge of the sink, eyes clenched tight, for me to steady myself. This wasn’t quite what I’d had in mind when I’d hoped to spend more time with him. I knew logically that this wasn’t real, but maybe it was my opportunity to show him how good we could be together? A practice run on forever.
After a quick shower, I went to get dressed and realized I hadn’t come fully prepared. I opened the door a crack and peeked out. “Uh, Fable? Could you please pass me my underwear?”
He was sitting on the couch, tapping away on his phone. He looked much more relaxed now, and I took pride in knowing I’d done that. “Sure.” He picked up my bag, and instead of rummaging through it for my underwear, he held out the whole thing for me to take. Of course, to pull the bag through the door, I had to open it further, and Fable’s jaw dropped, eyes wide, before he spun away. “I saw nothing!” he squeaked.
“Wha—?” I glanced down to see that the towel I’d wrapped around my waist had gaped open, exposing more than he’d been prepared to see. “Désolé! Sorry!” I shouted, closing the door with a slam. I wasn’t embarrassed by my considerable endowment. Shifters were naturally more comfortable with nudity than most humans, but I would never have revealed all to my mate until he’d asked.
When I was finally dressed, I stepped out warily. “Fable, I am so, so sor—” I began, but he waved off my apology.
“It’s like you said. As your fake husband, it would be weird if Ididn’tsee you naked. Right?” He offered me a teasing smile, and it set me straight at ease.
“Right.” I grabbed his suit jacket from the hook by the door and held it open for him. “Shall we go?” He nodded and steppedin to slide his arms into the sleeves. He didn’t even complain when I insisted he wear my toque.
As we walked down the path to where I’d parked my car, I could sense he had something to say. I waited until he was ready. At last, he asked, “You know I really appreciate this, but honestly, what do you get out of it?”
