“This is a giant mistake,” I murmured to myself as I stared at my reflection in the bathroom mirror the following morning.
Last night, my proposition that Owen and I pretend to become more than friends had seemed like a good idea, if for no other reason than to avoid situations like this in the near future.
And there had always been situations like this.
Like when we were all supposed to go to a new exhibit at the museum, and Mackenna and Jacob both conveniently got sick.
Or the time we’d all planned to take the ferry over to Catalina for the day, only for the two of them to bail at the last minute, offering some excuse about a distant cousin of his having his bar mitzvah. Jacob wasn’t even Jewish.
Or when we’d planned a trip to my house in Big Bear, and they left too late to beat the snow storm, leaving Owen and me alone all week, despite the roads having cleared after a day.
I was more than aware that my relationship with Owen may have seemed odd. After all, how could a man and woman be as close as we were and be content to remain friends? It was a question we got all the time. But we truly were just friends. Best friends, really.
He was one of the few people I could trust, which he earned when he put his own career at risk to tell me something no one else would… That my husband hadn’t been faithful to me. That after damage to my vocal cords cut my singing career short and I was no longer the musical starlet he’d agreed to marry, he went elsewhere. Which just so happened to be in the bed of his secretary, the head of marketing, and even the barista at the coffee house on the studio lot, just to name a few.
I should have known marrying the president of the network that aired the singing competition show that made me a household name, albeit only for a matter of months, was doomed to fail. I was new to the Hollywood scene and still had stars in his eyes. He preyed upon my vulnerability, using me until I no longer had anything to offer him, at least in terms of fame.
As a big name media mogul who owned magazines, several networks, as well as a few movie studios, Joshua could have easily destroyed Owen’s career as a photographer, especially since he routinely did work for the nature and travel magazine Joshua owned.
But as often happened, karma eventually paid my ex-husband a visit. Thanks to his predisposition to drink himself into a stupor, then stupidly get behind the wheel of a car, he’d lost control of his Maserati as he was speeding along the Pacific Coast Highway, causing him to spin out of control and crash into a light post, the car nearly splintering in two. He was pronounced dead on the scene, saving me from having to file for divorce. In a surprising twist of fate, I was still named as the sole benefactor of his estate and considerable fortune, which I’d used to support charities Joshua routinely claimed were a waste of resources, such as funding for public arts programs, environmental preservation, and women’s health initiatives.
Through all the media attention in the aftermath of Joshua’s death and the rebuilding of my life, not to mention all the feelings of inadequacy that went along with the man I thought to be the love of my life cheating on me, Owen stayed by my side.
Why would I risk losing him as a friend just for some fun in the bedroom?
And there was no doubt in my mind it would be fun. Hell, it would be more than just fun. Based on what I knew of Owen, he’d be passionate yet attentive. Addictive, yet selfless. Hungry, yet restrained.
My face flushed at the image I painted, his body sensually moving over mine. Heat prickle my skin, butterflies flitting in my stomach as a subtle moan fell from my lips. Snapping out of my stupor, I shook it off, focusing my attention on my reflection as I convinced myself this response was simply because it had been quite a while since I’d been intimate with another man.
It didn’t help that Owen and I shared a bed last night. It wasn’t the first time. But it was the first time I woke up with his arm draped over me, his body molded to mine. I’d pretended to sleep, but it was impossible when I felt how turned on he was.
I told myself morning wood was normal. That it was irrelevant I’d heard him murmur my name in his sleep. That I didn’t once entertain the idea of how the erection pushing against my back would feel between my legs.
Because that wasn’t something friends thought about. And that was all we were. Friends. Nothing more.
Although, starting today, we had to convince everyone we were slowly becoming something more.
Would it even work? Mackenna and Jacob knew us incredibly well. Would they buy into our lies after listening to us insist we were simply friends for years?
The sound of the door closing cut through my thoughts, followed by the familiar padding of Owen’s footsteps. My pulse increased, anxiety filling me over the prospect of seeing him for the first time since I woke up this morning to his…wood.
“I will not think of Owen’s erection. I will not think of Owen’s erection. I will not think of Owen’s erection,” I mumbled under my breath.
After all, friends didn’t think about their friend’s erection.
I was pretty sure that was, like, rule number one of having a male best friend.
Now I had to face him again, knowing precisely what that erection felt like, but not letting on I did.
I’d never been good at hiding my emotions, especially from Owen.
On a deep inhale, I settled my nerves, squaring my shoulders, pretending as if this was the start of any other day, ready to face it head on.
And that was precisely what I did.
Literally.
The instant I stepped out of the bathroom, I rammed directly into Owen’s body.
And not merely the pajama-clad body from last night. Instead, I crashed directly into his magnificent, shirtless, sweat-glistening frame, a musky, manly aroma invading my senses.
I’d seen Owen shirtless before. Hell, I walked in on him in nothing but a towel yesterday. But there was something about him now, fresh from a run, hair disheveled, his gym shorts hanging so perfectly from his hips, that had my skin tingling with want.
“Sorry, Cora,” he said breathlessly, increasing the distance between us. “I thought you’d already gone down to breakfast.”
“No,” I responded quickly in a tone that was several octaves higher than normal. I took a moment to compose myself, using every ounce of resolve I possessed to focus only on his face. Not the rest of his body. And certainly not anything below his waist.
Truthfully, I never paid much attention to Owen’s physique before.
But that was before we were forced to share such close quarters.
Before I concocted some scheme to make everyone believe we’d finally succumbed to our feelings toward each other.
Before I woke up to what I imagined to be a rather large erection poking me.
And as I stole a quick glimpse of his shorts, I confirmed that my original assessment was grossly inadequate. He wasn’t even hard, yet I could make out his bulge.
God bless the Irish.
“Everything all right?” he asked, eyeing me warily, remaining as self-assured as ever, something I needed to be.
“Yes,” I responded, my pitch still high. Drawing a breath to settle my nerves — and hormones — I smoothed a hand down my sundress, giving Owen a small smile. “You just startled me. That’s all.”
“What is it about this bathroom, huh?” He ran his hand through his thick, dark locks.
“We’ll have to start yelling ‘corner’ like we’re walking into a restaurant’s kitchen.”
“Probably not a bad idea.”
“You’re right about that.”
I rocked on my heels, feeling unusually uncomfortable in his presence. It never felt like this before. All the more reason to put Mackenna and Jacob’s matchmaking schemes to bed for once and for all. Imagine how awkward things would have been between us if we actually did hook up?
“I’ll let you shower,” I blurted out after a beat of awkward silence. “I was about to head downstairs anyway. See if Mackenna needs anything.”
He kicked off his sneakers before stepping into the bathroom. “Don’t feel like you have to leave on my account.” He grabbed a towel, running it over his body, drawing my attention back to his chiseled muscles.
“It’s okay.” I spun around. “I’ll see you down there.”
Keeping my eyes averted, I darted for the door like the house was on fire.
“Should we talk about today?” he called out before I could escape.
I paused, hand on the doorknob, squeezing my eyes shut. What I felt this morning was the absolute last thing I wanted to talk about.
Fixing my expression into one of ignorance, I faced him. “Today?” I repeated brightly. “What do you mean? I—”
“Obviously, we’ll need to do some things to pique people’s interest, make them believe we’re breaking down the walls between us.”
“Oh,” I drew out as realization washed over me. “Of course. That.”
“Yeah.” He looked at me warily. “That. What did you think I was talking about?”
“Oh. Nothing. You’re right,” I continued so he couldn’t press further. I really needed to get my mind out of the gutter. “It’s best we know precisely how far we’ll take things today so we can be better…prepared. It’s Monday. Bachelorette night isn’t until Thursday. So today we just need to raise awareness, I suppose. A few lingering touches and stares, but nothing over the top. I think that’s the best way to make this as believable as possible. Everything should seem to be a natural progression. That way it doesn’t feel…forced, for lack of a better word. Think you can manage that?”
A small smile crept on his lips as he slowly erased the distance between us. With each step he took, his dark eyes trained on me like an animal in heat, my pulse steadily increased.
Lips parting, my chest heaved through its increasingly labored breathing, the hairs on my nape standing on end. The seconds stretched as he gradually reached for my face and pushed a tendril of hair behind my hair then cupped my cheek, barely a whisper separating our bodies.
“Like this?” he asked in a low, seductive voice that all but turned my body into jelly.
My mouth grew dry, the way he peered at me making me feel…desired, almost. Wanted.
Loved.
I exhaled a tiny breath, closing my eyes as I basked in the warmth of his skin on mine. “Yes,” I whimpered.
I tilted my head back, the warmth of his breath dancing on my lips as he inched closer to me, our bodies two magnets drawn to each other.
A voice in my head shouted at me to retreat, to pull back. That this was the precise thing I’d wanted to avoid. But it had been so long. What harm could one kiss do? If people were to believe there was something going on between us, we’d have to kiss eventually. But what would a kiss in the privacy of our bedroom prove?
Absolutely nothing.
It wouldn’t be for them, but for us. And this plan was for them. Not us.
Quickly snapping out of my trance, I flung my eyes open, scrambling backwards.
“Precisely like that,” I added, clearing my throat.
He eyed me for a beat, then smirked. “See, love… This will be a walk in the park.” He winked, then turned and made his way toward the bathroom, treating me to the amazing view of his backside.
I didn’t so much as breathe until he disappeared behind the door. Once he did, I placed my hand over my heart and leaned against the wall, needing it to support me.
“I suppose it will be.”
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