Page 167 of Wait for Him

"Hey, you."

Rian glides inside, heels dangling from two fingers, already at home in a way I don't remember authorizing and haven't gotten around to minding.

"Hey."

The smile arrives on its own. She crosses to me and I pull her into my arms, burying my face in her neck and breathing in that expensive scent, and then I'm tugging her by the hand toward my bedroom because I'm a needy bitch right now and past pretending otherwise.

"In a rush, are we?"

"Fuck yes. But we need to be quiet. I've got a visitor in the guest bed."

She stops so abruptly my arm jerks backward with hers.

"Is it..." She takes a breath. "Is it her?"

She doesn't say Rose's name. She never says Rose's name, actually, like avoiding the syllable somehow keeps her out of the room. Usually I let it go. Tonight, it's not the question that catches me. It's the way Rian's entire body has gone rigid, all that warmth from three seconds ago gone.

"No. It's Blaire. She's sick again."

"Why can't her husband take care of her if she's sick?"

The acid in her voice gets my back up immediately.

"He's out of town. And I don't owe you an itinerary for my time, Rian."

"We're getting married, Marcus!"

"Keep your fucking voice down." I back us into the living room, away from the guest hall, because the last thing Blaire needs is to wake up to whatever the hell this is. Any interest I had in getting Rian naked has packed its bags and left.

She crosses the room and folds her arms around herself. At first I read it as attitude, but that's not it. She's holding herself together. I've seen her do it before, the same way she gripped that wineglass the night she proposed this whole arrangement.

Granted, things have changed since then. We made the deal, started selling the relationship, and then I drunk-called her to my hotel room and fucked her while thinking she was Rose. She doesn't know that last part, and she never will if I can help it. But after that night, we kept sleeping together. We have fun. I like her. She likes me. The sex is good. None of that was supposed to change the terms.

No actual strings.

Just an arrangement.

At least that's what I thought we were still doing.

"What is this, Marcus? What are we?"

"An arrangement. One you drafted, one you pitched, one you agreed to, Rian. I won't tolerate this jealous act."

"Why won't you kiss me on the mouth?"

Holy hell.

I drag a hand over my face. I don’t need this tonight.

"We've gone over this." I keep my voice low, although she's making that increasingly difficult. "Are you seriously this bent out of shape because Blaire is sleeping down the hall?"

"She's not your sister, Marcus. She's your best friend's very attractive wife, and you're always around each other."

"I'm also always around Jenn. And Jade. Hell, half my friends are women. What exactly are you accusing me of?"

"Why do you need to surround yourself with women? Why aren't I enough for you?"

Her voice cracks, and that stops me.