Do I believe he didn’t know Abigail was married? I want to. I really do.
But I’m hesitant to trust anyone, let alone someone as…confusing as him.
Agreeing to Rowan’s offer would mean trusting him to a very large extent. I’d be living with him, for God’s sake. I’ve never lived with a man before. Would I feel safe sharing a space with him? I don’t know him all that well, so the answer should be no, but strangely enough, I have this weird certainty in my gut that he wouldn’t harm me.
Maybe it’s because of how he calmed me down after our near accident, or maybe it’s just some animal instinct, but I’ve never felt unsafe around him.
That’s more than I can say for most men.
So yeah, I think I could live with him, but what about the second part of the agreement?
If I agree to pretend we’re dating, we'd have to put on a convincing act whenever we’re out and about. At a minimum, we’d have to hold hands. Hug. Kiss.
Something hot and nervous twists inside my belly at the memory of doing just that in my kitchen.
The moment he leaned down, I knew what was coming, so why didn’t I stop it? I could have kicked him. I could have screamed.
Instead, I kissed him back.
I’m a logical, rational person, but deep down, I’m also a romantic. Spending extended time in close quarters with thatman is bound to be a test for any woman with a pair of eyes and a beating heart.
What if I forget myself again, the way I did with Brett? I don’t want to put myself in a position where I’ll only get hurt again.
Brett grabs my hand. “It’ll be easier to fix things between us if we live together. Trust me.”
The door behind me opens, and Brett’s attention moves to a spot over my shoulder. His eyes narrow.
I don’t need to look behind me to know it’s Rowan. He must have heard us arguing and has come out to check on me.
I pull my hand out of his grasp. “I would rather be homeless than ever get back together with you.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” His voice is harsher and lower. It’s the voice he uses at Frostbite when he wants to remind me that he’s my boss. “C’mon. You’ve got no close friends. No family. Where else are you going to stay?”
Rowan stops close enough for his shoulder to brush against my own. A second later, I feel the warm pressure of his palm against the small of my back.
Brett pointedly ignores Rowan. “C’mon, B. Let’s go.”
My heart hammers inside my chest. Isn’t it time I do something drastic to make Brett understand we’re never getting back together?
“We both know you don’t have any other options,” he grinds out.
That’s when I decide—screw it. I am so done with this.
“Actually, I do have options. I’m going to stay with Rowan.”
Brett’s eyes go very wide. “That’s absurd.”
“I’ve got things to do, Brett. You should probably go home.”
“Blake, that’sabsurd. You are not staying with him. You don’t even know him. He just appeared out of nowhere—“
“He came here from New York, and he was just over at my place for Thanksgiving. I know him well enough.”
Brett shakes his head and takes a step forward. “Blake—“
Suddenly, Rowan’s in front of me, blocking him from coming any closer. “She said you can go home.” Rowan’s voice is low and deadly. “This conversation is over.”
Brett sputters. “Who the fuck do you think you are?”
