Page 34 of Pretender

“I don’t want her to spend another minute worrying about me when she should focus on Will and her own happiness.”

“Okay, thank you for explaining that to me.” It’s actually quite sweet, albeit a huge burden for him to bear, which I’m certain his mum wouldn’t like if she was aware.

Something else moves over his face now; his brow furrows and he worries his bottom lip. I need to learn to read that face, and this whole ordeal will be much easier.

“What are you thinking now?” I ask, studying his expression.

“Not telling Mark, lying to him… We had some trouble with a former friend who hid things from us, and this stirs up bad memories.”

“Oh.”

His gaze meets mine.

“Do you trust me?” he asks.

I contemplate how to answer that. No? But even I can’t be that blunt.

“I’m apprehensive. I stand to lose a lot more than you.”

“That’s wise, but I’ll do my best to show you that you can. I won’t risk ruining your reputation by telling anyone. Even Mark.”

I have a strange urge to pat his hand in front of me. That’s never something I’ve felt the need to do.

I don’t do it, of course.

“Thank you.”

His gaze holds mine for a moment until I need to shift mine away, finding his hairline instead.

Trust. He’s the only client that’s stuck around. Willing to lie to his friends for me. But my disgraceful Halloween incident is always going to sit there between us.

I don’t trust his view of me.

“So,” I say, filling the heavy silence. “No telling anyone, no seeing anyone else,” I say, trying to come up with something lighter to say, but instead my chest tightens as more challenges flood my mind. “You’re quite tactile,” I blurt out, and he cocks his head at me. “I mean, I’m not,” I add. “Never been. How do I make this look real?”

“I’ll only do what you’re comfortable with, Linnea.”

“Okay.” I nod slowly, trying to determine where my boundaries lie. What am I okay with? “I’ll just play it by ear. But no… Umm…” I’ll just say it. The only rule I can think of that worked for Vivian, sort of. “No kissing.”

Aiden’s jaw flexes, and his eyes land on my mouth, just for a second, but it makes my stomach lurch. “Pretty Woman,” I add. “Too intimate.”

“I know. It makes sense.”

“And no unnecessary hand-holding.”

“Hand-holding?” He cocks his head at me, a mocking glint in those grey-blue eyes.

“Yes.” I cross my arms, feeling silly. “Is there a reason for you to hold my hand?”

“What if you fall over, can I grab your hand?”

“I won’t fall over. Why would I fall over?”

“Okay, what if I fall?”

I stifle a laugh, but it comes out as a small huff.

“Find me funny, do you?”