The Setup (Faking It Book 2)

by Lila Kane

  This project was mine. My baby.

  “Now we’re together,” he said, still standing in the doorway. “That means we can help each other. With small things and big things. Things like this.”

  I met his gaze but couldn’t find the right words. We’d barely started to get our relationship on track—it hadn’t made sense to involve him in all of it. “We” weren’t on the same page yet because we were barely even a “we” yet.

  “Or am I wrong?” Ben asked, eyes narrowed.

  I tugged a t-shirt over my head, trying to stay neutral. “You’re not wrong. We’re just…we haven’t even gotten to that point yet.”

  “Are you worried I’m going to do the same thing as I did last time?”

  Walk out on me? No. Not entirely. But there was still a flicker of doubt because we’d barely even talked about it. “I’m not sure,” I said softly. When he looked like I’d thrown a dagger at him, I added quickly, “Ben, I don’t even know why you left last time. We haven’t talked, and I’m confused…”

  “Last night you said you trusted me.”

  “I know. I did say that. And…” Fuck. I said it and I meant it, but today things were different. It was me, not him. Me with the uncertainties. But no matter what way I said it, it sounded like I was going back on my word.

  “So it was only about last night,” he said. “You just trusted me for…what? Sex?”

  I blinked. “No! I mean, yes, I trusted that what we were doing was because you cared about me.”

  “And I do,” he murmured. “I do care about you.”

  “I believe you. I believed it last night and I still believe it.”

  His frustration turned to confusion. “And what about the rest? You don’t trust me with that?”

  He meant the theater. My passions in life. The things that were really important.

  I lowered my gaze even as I felt a prickle of fear. Because, no, I didn’t trust him entirely. But I was getting there. We were on a path, but things like that didn’t happen overnight.

  We still had so many conversations to have and moments to prove ourselves to each other.

  Ben finally stepped into the room, his jaw clenched. “I don’t know what’s going through your head, and it looks like you’re not going to tell me. But on my end, it’s easy. Black and white. I care about you and that makes you important. A part of my life. The good things and the bad, things I worry about and things I want to celebrate about. All of it.” His voice lowered and he looked down at me when I didn’t respond. “I wish it was that simple for you.”

  Without another word, he strode out of the room, calling behind him, “I need to go into work for a few hours.”

  I doubted he heard my response because he was already walking away, back to his bedroom, where I heard the door close quietly.

  I drew in a painful breath and sat on the bed. I squeezed my hand in my hair and groaned.

  Fuck, what had I done? What was I supposed to do?

  All of a sudden, my life had flipped upside down. I wasn’t just losing the theater, I might be losing Ben too.

  21

  I took the elevator to our top-floor office, and even though it was weekend, I wasn’t surprised to find other associates in their offices or walking around. A lot of us came in to catch up on extra work—or in this case, to get away from real life.

  I gritted my teeth. No, I wasn’t trying to get away from it, I was trying to understand it. And instead of hounding Libby for answers she didn’t seem ready to give me, I figured I’d be more useful here.

  I needed… Fuck.

  What I really needed was Libby.

  I don’t know when my feelings had turned so sharply, but they had. First, I just wanted her to treat me civilly. Then I wanted her to be a more communicative roommate. And then suddenly, my heart was at her feet and I couldn’t imagine my life without her.

  Whatever that meant, there it was.

  I walked to Melanie’s desk and frowned, even though I hadn’t expected her to be there.

  I shoved a hand through my hair and debated. I needed to do something. Libby was back at home and everything was all jumbled.

  I hadn’t lied to her. For me it was straightforward. I cared about her. A lot. It had taken one short month for me to fall for her again.

  The issue was that I thought we were on the same page. That she shared those feelings.

  For me, it wasn’t an agreement anymore, but Libby seemed to still be operating under those assumptions. At least enough that she wasn’t letting me in.

  I sat at Melanie’s desk and pulled out my phone. It was Sunday, sure, but I needed her. She was one of the few people who knew about the arrangement between me and Libby and I needed her skills with a few files.

  She answered after several rings. “Hello?”

  “Melanie?”

  “Mr. Davis?”

  “It’s me,” I told her. “I need the password for your computer.”

  “What?”

  “Your work computer,” I said impatiently. “I need to access some files.”

  I needed to look up how much Mr. Griffin still owed the bank for the theater. It couldn’t be too much, could it? Or had he taken out a loan to do renovations at some point? Didn’t seem possible with how run-down the place was, but still.

  “Files,” she murmured. “Like the one I looked up for you last week?”

  “Yes.”

  She mumbled something away from the phone. Probably talking to her boyfriend. No doubt I’d interrupted a nice morning in bed. A morning I thought I was going to have with Libby after I showered and climbed back under the covers with her to run my hands over her smooth skin.

  I hadn’t gotten enough of her last night, but I’d figured it was just the beginning. I figured I’d have more time with her. That we’d spend the whole day together, whether in bed or out. But I knew I was going to keep her close either way.

  After waking early, before I’d even gotten out of bed, I’d run my fingers through her hair and kissed her cheek, loving how peaceful she looked.

  And I’d whispered words to her I’d been too afraid to say to her face. I love you.

  “Mr. Davis?”

  “I’m here. Password.”

  I heard her grumble and curse, and then she said, “Give me thirty minutes.”

  Before I could answer, she hung up the phone. But less than thirty minutes later, she walked out of the elevator looking refreshed and happy in a t-shirt and jeans.

  Melanie placed a cup of coffee in front of me and grinned. “Trouble in paradise?”

  My jaw clenched. But I didn’t say a word. I needed Melanie. And she’d brought me coffee, which was nice.

  She nudged me out of the chair so she could get to her computer. “What would the partners think about all this?”

  “That I feel in love with a woman who was pretending to be my girlfriend and she has no clue what to do about it.”

  Melanie’s mouth dropped open. “Shit.”

  “That’s not why I need your password, though.”

  “Seriously? You made me part of your secret so I deserve to know the details.” She folded her arms and refused to do anything else.

  I scowled, but she didn’t budge.

  With a sigh, I dragged over another chair and took a sip of coffee before I began. “It’s not a long story. Libby doesn’t trust me—not after what I did to her before. She thinks I’m going to walk out on her again. She didn’t tell me about the theater and that she’s saving to buy it. And when I told her I wanted to help her figure it out, she clammed up.”

  Melanie nodded thoughtfully. “Well, she might just be sticking to the agreement. I mean, that’s what she’s supposed to do, right?”

  “Until feelings got involved.”

  “On your end.”

  The words stung. But she was right, the feelings might only be on my end. “I don’t want an agreement. I want more.”

  “And Libby knows this?”

  I star
ted to answer, but I wasn’t sure. Yes, she knew I cared about her. But did she realize that I was in this for the long haul? Fuck the agreement. I wanted Libby and everything that meant. The good and the bad, like I’d told her.

  Melanie turned back to the computer and put in her password.

  “I need to tell her,” I said.

  “Call her.”

  I glanced at my phone on the edge of her desk. “Right now?”

  “It’s as good a time as any. Talk to her. Take her out to dinner. And then do whatever it takes to show her that you’re serious about…something serious. Right?”

  Yes. I wanted to be serious with Libby. No agreement, just us, our feelings, and what came from there.

  “You owe her that much,” Melanie said without looking up.

  “I think you like her more than me.”

  She smirked. “I think you’re good for each other.”

  “You hardly know her.”

  “But you can tell sometimes, right?” She gave a sincere smile. “You guys are a perfect fit.”

  I couldn’t argue. I’d felt it from the beginning. Libby and I were meant to be together and that’s what had scared me so badly in the beginning. I hadn’t been ready for that when I’d first met her. Hadn’t been ready to give in.

  It was ridiculous, but it was true. I was afraid to give in, to acknowledge that the universe was throwing us together and I had to accept it.

  But now I was more than ready to accept it.

  I snagged my cell phone off the desk and paced toward the elevator. I pressed the button for her number and waited for several rings. Then it went to voicemail.

  “Fuck.” I tried again but it was still the same. Hi, it’s Libby. I can’t talk right now but I’d love for you to leave me a message…

  I walked back to the desk and Melanie gave me an encouraging smile.

  “Try again in a few minutes. Or send her a text letting her know you want to talk.”

  I bit back frustration. If Libby would just listen, we could figure this out. Unless she didn’t have those kinds of feelings, and then I had no clue where things would go.

  “There,” Melanie said. She shifted her screen so I could see. “I had to do some favors to get this information, you know.”

  “And I appreciate it.”

  I leaned in to scan the information about Mr. Griffin’s loan and how much he owed.

  “He only has five years left until he can pay it off.”

  Melanie nodded. “But he barely has any equity and the building’s falling apart. It makes sense to sell it to the highest bidder.”

  Which wasn’t Libby.

  “She really wants to buy the theater?” Melanie asked.

  “And fix it up. Restore it to what it was before. And she wants the kids from the community center where she works to have a place to rehearse and perform.”

  Melanie leaned back in her chair. “Wow. No wonder you’re in love with her. I’m halfway in love with her.” She grinned. “What are you going to do?”

  I looked down at my phone but didn’t see any messages. “I don’t know. I just know I want to help her however I can. If she’d just let me.”

  I typed in a quick message and sent it. I need to talk to you. Please give me a call.

  “Did you say there’s another offer for the theater on the table?” Melanie asked.

  “Yes.”

  She turned the computer back to face her and started typing in something else.

  “Mr. Griffin is close to going into foreclosure, so he needs to sell,” I told her. “I think he wanted to sell it to Libby, but now he’s out of time.”

  Which was unfortunate because I could see that they were both passionate about the place.

  “All right,” Melanie mumbled, her gaze riveted. “Give me a minute.”

  I stood and gave her space, letting her type away on her keys. I had no clue what she was doing, but Melanie was smart and I could tell she had an idea. Good thing because I was clueless.

  I couldn’t stop checking my phone, willing Libby to text me back. Or call. She couldn’t ignore me forever, could she?

  Sure, we’d had a disagreement, but that didn’t negate everything else we had. I made it clear how I felt about her.

  With a sigh, I typed up another message for Libby, this one with the things I needed to say. What she needed to hear.

  I know you’re upset and I understand. We made this agreement but no other boundaries or rules were set, which meant it was easy to blur the lines.

  I fell for you and I wanted you to know, even if it crosses boundaries.

  I thought for a moment, then continued. She’d told me she had no clue why I’d walked out before. I owed her an explanation.

  It might help for you to know where I was coming from before. When I walked out, it was completely my fault. I was scared. I was consumed by you and it caught me off-guard. I knew from the moment we met that we were meant to be together but the timing was difficult. My dad died two months before that, which you know, but what I didn’t tell you was what I’d decided because of it. Because of how heartbroken my mom was. I thought that if love could be lost like that and hurt so badly that maybe it was better not to have it at all. So when I met you and it felt like love at first sight, it scared the shit out of me. I handled it all wrong and ended up hurting you, which I’m so sorry for.

  I’m sorry for everything.

  I didn’t ask for anything else this time. Not for her to talk or meet me somewhere.

  If it worked out, it worked out. I just had to hope that in the meantime, I could find some way to help her keep the theater.

  22

  Stacy met me at the pizza place on the corner of the street where we used to share an apartment. It was too early for a drink so we split root beer and waited for our pie.

  My phone dinged again and I closed my eyes briefly.

  “Is that Ben?” Stacy asked.

  I opened one eye and peered at the screen, then nodded. He’d called twice already but didn’t leave a voicemail. Then he’d decided to text.

  “I should have just turned it off,” I mumbled, reaching for my phone.

  But I still hesitated. Mostly because I felt bad. I’d broken something in Ben this morning and I knew I could have responded better, told him my feelings so he’d understand where I was coming from.

  “What’s wrong?” Stacy asked.

  “I don’t know what to do.”

  She put her elbows on the table and propped her chin in her hands. “What’s the problem?”

  “Me. I think I’m the problem.”

  She leaned back when the waiter delivered our pizza. She scooped up a slice for me and slid it over. “I’m going to need a little more if you want me to help.”

  I frowned. “We had a fight,” I told her. “I mean, sort of a fight.”

  “Meaning?”

  I got carried away with the parmesan and coated my piece until it was almost white. “Well, first we were fine and then feelings got involved, and you know how that fucks everything up.”

  “Did you fall for him again?” she asked.

  I grimaced. “Actually, I think he fell for me. And I… I guess I didn’t see it. I thought I was just being friendly and we were on the same page. And then…we were spending more time together and getting along and then…”

  Her eyes widened. “You slept with him?”

  I ducked my chin and nodded. It had been a mistake. I mean, not what had happened. God, that had been amazing. Ben was amazing, how tenderly he’d touched me, how consumed he’d been as he pumped into me over and over again, his body warm against mine as we both shot over the edge.

  That hadn’t been wrong. But me going along with it had, if that’s what had made him believe that we were in a different place than I thought we were.

  The truth was, I had no idea what place we were in.

  I’d let myself fall for him a little, too, and I had to admit that to myself.

  “You don
’t feel the same way?” Stacy asked.

  Another text came through on my phone. I almost reached for it but took a bite of pizza instead.

  I swallowed my bite and then said, “I honestly don’t know. No, that’s not true. I think I do know and it scares the hell out of me.”

  She nodded. “You think he’s going to hurt you again.”

  I reached for the parmesan and Stacy snagged it before I could grab it, grinning at me. “I think you’ve had enough. Tell me the truth.”

  “I don’t think he’ll hurt me again.”

  “Really?”

  “He’s changed, Stacy. He’s not the same guy I met. I mean, yeah, he’s handsome and charming and we get along great. But there’s something more.”

  Her eyes softened and she set the parmesan between us like an offering, or a truce. “That’s okay. We both know people can change. I think it’s okay to believe in love again. Sometimes it does happen.”

  I swallowed hard but I couldn’t stop the emotion that tried to swamp me. I’d made it a point not to trust Ben again, but it had happened anyway. I was used to trying really hard not to get my hopes up. I had with my mom and then she’d died. I had with the theater and now that might not work out.

  Believing in things with Ben was like setting myself up for disappointment. But that wasn’t fair to him because he hadn’t let me down again.

  “Is that what you fought about this morning?” she asked.

  I nodded. “Kind of. He wanted to talk about the theater and about my plans to buy it since Mr. Griffin has to sell sooner than he planned.” She set her hand on my arm and I smiled at her. “I know, it sucks. And I don’t know what to do.”

  “I think you should talk to Ben. It sounds like he wants to help.”

  “I know,” I said, my voice sounding miserable. “And I should let him. That’s why we fought. Because I wasn’t being open, and now I see that he was just trying to help and… I hurt him. But I didn’t mean to.”

  “Then talk to him,” she said simply, waving at my phone. “It sounds like he’s in this—he’s not running. He’s trying to work things out.”