The Setup (Faking It Book 2)

by Lila Kane

  He glanced at his paper. “Right. Ugh… ‘But, soft! What light through yonder window breaks.’”

  I nodded for him to continue as he read the lines, pacing back and forth while he monologued. “Good. Juliet.”

  Monica stepped forward just slightly and lifted her arms. “’Romeo, Romeo’…”

  “Very good,” I murmured as she continued. Then, when Ben replied, I said, “More feeling.”

  So Ben raised his voice, and the deep timbre of it, the way he actually committed, gave me the chills.

  I continued to make comments as they progressed, instructing them on where to stand, telling Ben that he needed to appeal to her. “You’re telling her, Juliet, please, don’t deny me. And Juliet is already in love with him, you can tell by her voice…”

  Ben’s gaze connected with mine as though the words were his. As though he knew exactly what he was saying because he already felt it. Almost like he wasn’t acting.

  Almost as if it was real.

  Not the play, not the performance, but our lives.

  “Great,” I said, trying again to focus. “Why don’t we let another Romeo have a chance?”

  Ben stepped back graciously to give someone else a chance. I put my back to him so I could concentrate, and I watched the students finish out the scene.

  When I glanced back, just once, Ben’s eyes were on me. Trained there, steady and full of heat, and I made sure to keep my back to him until we were done.

  After several more minutes, one of the students raised their hands.

  “Yes?” I asked.

  “Class is over.”

  “Oh.” I glanced at the clock and then laughed. “Right. Of course. Great job today. We’ll work on the third scene next week.”

  The rest of the class stood and filed out of the room while I tried to find something—anything—to occupy my time. But soon it was just me and Ben alone in the room.

  He left his chair and walked over. He smiled at me. “Interesting. The class.”

  “You weren’t too bad at Romeo,” I admitted.

  “No? Think it’s a born talent or do I need more practice?”

  “We could all use more practice,” I told him, figuring I didn’t want to compliment him too much.

  He laughed. “Well, it was my first time. I thought it wasn’t too bad.”

  “Not at all. And you didn’t even have to pay for the class, so—”

  “Oh.” He reached for his pocket, as though he planned on whipping out several bills right there. “Of course. That’s only fair—”

  “No. No,” I said, catching his arm. “I was just joking, Ben.”

  He stopped and just stared at me.

  I touched my cheek. “What? Did I get something on my face?”

  “You called me Ben.”

  And before I could blink, he’d taken my hand, strong fingers closing around mine. And I nearly melted into a puddle on the floor when he brought my hand to his lips. He kissed my knuckles, holding my gaze the entire time.

  “Thank you,” he said, “for letting me in today.”

  I swallowed when my throat dried. “You—you’re welcome. It was a nice surprise.”

  “I said I wanted to spend time with you and I meant it. And it was even better because I got to see something you’re passionate about.”

  I couldn’t help but give him another smile at his honesty. “I am passionate about it.” I lowered my eyes. “I have another class in thirty minutes.”

  “I understand and I won’t interrupt that class. But will you have dinner with me tonight?”

  I blinked, surprised. He wanted more? I thought coming to my class was enough. But I couldn’t deny I wanted a little more time with him, however we could get it.

  But that wasn’t necessary.

  “It’s okay,” I told him. “I mean, you don’t have to.”

  “Don’t have to?” he asked, looking confused.

  “I mean, you can do what you want tonight. Unless—well, unless you have another work thing coming up and we need to—to talk about something—”

  I broke off when he lifted his free hand and brushed his finger down my cheek with a smile. “Is it really that surprising that I might want to spend time with you?”

  “That’s…” I was going to say that it wasn’t necessary, but I couldn’t seem to get out the words. I found myself wanting that extra time.

  To know more about this new Ben.

  “Say yes,” he murmured. “Please.”

  “Yes.”

  He straightened. “Really?”

  I laughed. “Did you want me to say no?”

  “No.” He released me and stepped back, looking like he thought I might change my mind if he hung on any longer. “This is good. Great. Text me when you’re done and I’ll make sure we’re all set.”

  “All set?”

  “Yes.” He turned to the door. “You’ll see. Have fun with your next class.”

  And with those words, he turned and left, leaving me watching his ass and longing for something I wasn’t supposed to be longing for.

  13

  I had to admit, this was perfect. Perfect for Libby.

  In the short time I’d known her, I’d realized that she liked romance over tradition, a pair of worn-in jeans over and dress, and an evening of laughter over something—anything—more serious.

  And I wanted to give her all those things. Even if to show her that I was paying attention. I wanted her to be happy and this was my way of starting.

  So I made sure the candles were lit and then took the elevator back to the penthouse, knowing she was home and getting ready for the evening.

  When the elevator doors opened, I spotted her right away. She stood in front of the large bank of windows, barely more than a silhouette as the sun went down and the sky looked like a watercolor of oranges and purples. The clouds from earlier had given them a small amount of rain and then moved on.

  Libby looked amazing. First, just the outline of her slender body. Tiny waist and the curve of her hips. And when she turned, the swell of her breast with her hair dangling over her shoulder. She wore jeans as I expected but had on a lacy black shirt that made me long to see what was underneath.

  And God, I already knew she would smell amazing.

  When she spotted me, she turned fully and glanced down at her outfit. “Am I underdressed?”

  “You’re perfect,” I murmured, walking straight to her because if I didn’t at least take her hand I was going to die where I stood.

  But I paused in front of her, keeping my hands to myself for the time being. She smelled like heaven. Something floral and subtle. Something that made me want to lean closer. The same something that had made me want to stay close to her the first night we’d met at the party.

  It felt like that night all over again, the whole world before us and opportunities galore.

  “Thank you,” Libby said softly.

  Was it my imagination or did her gaze drop to my lips when she said that? And was it just me or was her gaze full of heat just like I felt right now?

  “Are we having dinner or do we have different plans?” she asked.

  “Yes. Dinner.” I set my hand on her back and guided her to the elevator. “Come with me.”

  I think it was the first time she didn’t flinch when I’d touched her anywhere besides her hand. It gave me more hope than I’d felt this entire time.

  We made the short trip to the rooftop, which surprised her. I grinned when the elevator dinged and she stayed inside, looking uncertain.

  With a laugh, I took her hand and guided her out.

  “This is dinner?” she asked quietly.

  I leaned down. “What was that?”

  She lifted her mouth to my ear, and feeling her breath there was the most erotic thing I’d felt in a long time. “We’re having dinner up here?”

  With the heat of her body next to mine, flushed with instant need for her, I could hardly answer. I squeezed her hand in mine while m
y cock began to throb.

  Easy, I reminded myself. It wasn’t the time to get intimate, though I would if she’d let me. I had to gain her trust first.

  “Yes,” I managed. “It’s a rooftop picnic.”

  I untwined my fingers from hers and touched her back, urging her to walk to the picnic I’d arranged in the middle of the roof. I’d set out a blanket for authenticity and even added pillows for more comfort. The champagne was on ice and I had fruit on a silver tray.

  It was the ambiance that did it though. Candles flickering at each corner of the blanket, and the bulbs swaying on strings overhead. Kind of like the rooftop parties I always watched from work when I stayed late.

  Libby glanced over. “I thought we were going out.”

  “Sure,” I said hastily, gesturing to the elevators and feeling like I’d already messed something up. “We can go out of you want. I mean, of course that’s—”

  “No, wait. Ben,” she said with a small smile.

  God, I loved when she said my name like that. Like it was just me and her in a world made for us.

  “That’s not what I meant. I was surprised. And this is perfect.”

  “Are you sure?”

  She smiled again and looked out over the city as a slight breeze stirred her hair. I caught a whiff of her perfume and breathed in deep. “I’m sure,” she said.

  “Good. How about a drink?”

  Libby followed me to the blanket and sat down. “Sounds good. I have a few hours before I have to go.”

  “Go?” I asked, off my game again. Where did she have to go? I thought this evening was ours.

  Or maybe…maybe she had a date. I deliberately picked up the champagne glass and calmly poured some for her, though my jaw clenched at the sudden rush of jealousy that raced through me. It wasn’t like we’d made any rules about seeing other people, but I’d just assumed that was the case. At least on my end.

  I had no plans to be with anyone else, and I didn’t want to share her with anyone either.

  “It’s the theater,” she said finally.

  I turned back and handed her the glass as relief rushed through me. “The theater?”

  She sipped the champagne and averted her eyes. “This is good.” She shrugged and waved her hand as though it wasn’t a big deal. “It’s just another side job.”

  An important one—or at least one she’d committed to, because she’d gone there last week and it wasn’t like she needed the money.

  Which meant it was something else, just like the community center, that she was passionate about. And I wanted to know all her secrets.

  I wanted the parts of Libby I hadn’t gotten the first time because I hadn’t taken more time to get to know them.

  I grinned at her. “How many jobs do you have?” I remembered the coffee shop and corrected myself quickly. “Now?”

  She set me at east again when she laughed. “Just the community center. The other is more of a hobby. Actually, I’d call it a passion project.”

  There we go. That was exactly what I was talking about. Learning Libby’s passions.

  I joined her on the blanket and said, “I’d love to hear more about it.”

  She reached for a strawberry while she considered this. “You know that old theater on Dover Street?”

  “Curved windows?” I asked, trying to remember. “Giant marquee?” She nodded. “Is that still open?”

  “Yes.” Her eyes lifted to the sky, taking in the expanse of stars. “But barely. Mr. Griffin wants to sell and I—” She returned her gaze to mine and shook her head. It was clear she was being careful about what she said to me. “It’s a long story—that part of it. But I’ve been going there every weekend for the last year. Mr. Griffin lets me show classic movies on Saturday nights. There’s a whole group of us who go.”

  Her smile widened as she spoke, and I realized how much it meant to me that she smiled the same way in my direction. How much I’d love to be included in a project that made her so happy.

  “And you?” she asked. “Any secret hobbies?”

  “My passion project?” I asked. I pulled over the bag of food and smiled. “You.”

  She made a face at me but laughed. “Clever. What’s for dinner?”

  I set out two trays I’d had delivered just before we’d come up. “Steak. Just like you like it. Medium, with baked potato. No sour cream. And I got a salad, too, but I couldn’t remember whether you like blue cheese or ranch so I got both. But…” I trailed off when she simply stared at me. “What?”

  Her eyes were clouded with something that looked like confusion. Or was that surprise? “How do you know all this?”

  “I remembered,” I said. “From dinner that night at the B&B. Shit. I’m sorry. I forgot that would bring up bad memories. I shouldn’t—”

  “No.” She shook her head and pulled the tray closer. “I’m just surprised you remembered. And this is one of my favorite meals. Not a bad memory. It was a good choice.”

  She’d be surprised at how much I remembered. I might have acted like a douche but I had a good memory. And I’d been paying attention since she’d moved into my apartment.

  I took a risk and tried to go deeper, hoping she’d confide in me even more. “Tell me about your mom.”

  Her eyes lifted, wide pools of memory. For a moment, I thought I might have ruined the whole night, but then she set down her fork.

  “She was everything. Bright, smart, happy. She saw the best in the world, even when she got sick.” Libby smiled fondly. “Everyone loved her, and everyone always wanted to be around her. I know it doesn’t sound real—I mean, who’s that cheerful and happy all the time? But that was my mom.”

  I knew exactly what she was talking about because I felt the same about her. She brought the best to every situation and made everyone feel special. She’d greet the doorman every time we entered or exited the building. She talked to every single one of the partners like they were special. Her laughter made other people laugh, and I could see why she met so many people at the coffee shop.

  “She sounds amazing,” I said.

  Libby nodded and then sighed. She leaned back on the blanket, reclining to stare up at the sky. “She was. The most amazing person ever. She inspired me to come here and follow my dreams.”

  I stretched out on the blanket next to her, close enough I could feel the heat of her skin near mine. But it wasn’t enough.

  So I moved that last inch so breach the gab. My fingers brushed hers, then I clasped her hand in mine.

  Her gaze stayed on the sky, but I could hear the slight hitch of her breath. But she didn’t pull away.

  “Thank you for sharing with me,” I said.

  “Thank you for listening,” she answered, looking over to hold my gaze.

  The world suspended in that moment, just us two on the verge of something that felt big. Huge. Something that would change both our lives.

  I couldn’t help when my eyes dropped to her lips, or when all the blood in my head shot straight to my groin. I wanted her—I couldn’t help it. I wanted all of her right now on the rooftop, on the blanket, buried inside of her and losing myself. I wanted to stroke my finger down her cheek and then peel off her shirt. I wanted to let the anticipation build as I undressed her one piece of clothing at a time and then tasted every inch of her smooth skin.

  I’d done it before and it was killing me not to be able to do it again.

  Libby’s lips parted, and I had no idea what was going through her mind right now.

  I wished that it was simply how much she wanted me. That she wanted me as badly as I wanted her.

  And there was only one way to find out.

  I leaned over her, with one hand braced behind her head, and the other moving to her cheek. I trailed a finger over her cheekbone and then moved to her lips to brush my thumb across the bottom one.

  “I’m so happy you’re here,” I told her, my voice rough and low.

  Her tongue moved out to wet her lips and I almost
died right there.

  My voice came out in a growl this time. “Libby.”

  In response, she pressed a kiss to the pad of my thumb. And I lost it.

  I swooped down and captured her lips with mine, first sucking her bottom lip into my mouth and then catching myself, reminding myself I had time. I brushed another softer kiss on her lips and tasted just a little with my tongue.

  Her breath caught slightly and then the sexiest moan came from her mouth, turning me on so entirely, I couldn’t believe I hadn’t completely snapped yet.

  I ran my tongue along the seam of her lips. She tasted like strawberries and champagne, like long, sexy nights, and early mornings in my arms.

  She reached up, and instead of pushing me away, her fingers clenched on the lapel of my jacket.

  Her mouth opened, giving me access to her tongue, and I drove it inside, mingling with hers.

  “Libby,” I murmured against her lips, “I’ve been waiting for this since the day you got here.”

  She exhaled, but in the next moment, she was saying my name. “Ben.”

  “Hmm?”

  “Ben, wait.”

  But it was hard to stop. Now that I’d tasted her, now that I’d brushed my cheek against that soft skin, I wanted so much more. I ran my lips down her jaw and then to her throat.

  She arched back as if she had no choice, but she said my name again. “Ben. Hold on.”

  With my cock straining hard against the zipper of my slacks, I wasn’t sure I heard her correctly. “Hold on?”

  Instead of clinging to me, she was holding me back now. “I’m not sure this is a good idea.”

  It was the best idea I’d ever had. Libby and me. Together. Finally.

  But she scooted out from under me and stood quickly, making me stop and blink.

  “I’m sorry, I can’t do this,” she said. She looked at the mostly uneaten food and the candles. In fact, she everywhere but at me.

  I cleared my throat and moved to stand but she held out a hand. “No, don’t get up. You should—should eat. Or…I’m sorry,” she said again.

  And before I could do anything, she turned back to the elevator.