A kiss full of laughter.
A racing pulse beneath my palm.
A look that can chase away all the anger and bitterness inside me.
And that’s the moment I realize, I’m fucked well beyond repair.
Because I think I’m falling in love with Jacob Riley.
Chapter Twenty
Jacob
“Tell me you’re actually enjoying yourself, though,” my brother says, looking at me through the video chat.
“I am,” I say honestly. “It’s kind of perfect, actually…”
“So, what’s the problem?” he asks, leaning back into my couch. I hear the sound of a bag crunching, and I worry about the state of my couch, but I try to ignore it.
“I mean, there’s the issue with him being myclient.” I whisper.
“What’s the issue?” Noah pressed.
“Um…” Isn’t it obvious?
“You think you can’t have a relationship with your client because he’s paying you to have a relationship with him?” Noah raises an eyebrow.
“Yes.”
I don’t know what’s real and what’s not because I’m supposed to be pretending to be this man he’s in love with, who is madly in love with him, and…
And somewhere it feels like we stopped pretending to love each other and we actually…
“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but—” He lets out a breath. “You could always refuse the money.” Noah’s voice falters. “I mean, if he means that much to you.”
All at once, I remember my brother’s broken heart and feel like shit.
“Sorry, Noah, I didn’t mean to—”
“It’s fine. Really, just… if you think he’s worth it, you should give it a shot. A real shot.”
“But what if he doesn’t feel what I feel? What if it’s just a job to him?” My throat tightens at the words.
“What if it’s not, Jake?” I note the edge of sadness in his eyes. “What if thisisyour story? What if you finally get to be Julia Roberts, man?”
I sigh as his words hit me. “I don’t know, Noah. I don’t know how to navigate something like this.”
Noah sighs, looking away from the screen for a moment, and I note the bags under his eyes.
He looks like he hasn’t slept in days.
“I know,” he says softly. “But maybe he doesn’t either.” He looks at me with a sad expression.
“But you’ll never know until you ask, man.” His expression shifts and he smiles, the brother I know well coming through. “Don’t be a pussy. Put on some clean underwear and tell Richard Gere you love him and want to fuck his brains out.”
I roll my eyes and laugh, because fuck… I miss him. My brother.
He’s an idiot, but he’s my idiot, and I love him. He always knows how to put things in perspective.
