The End of Faking It

by Natalie Anderson

  She flinched. She didn’t want another lover. None. Ever.

  ‘I’m not interested in being your man whore,’ he snarled. ‘I actually have more self-respect than that.’

  ‘What are you interested in, then?’ she said, stung to anger by his sudden rejection. ‘You were the one looking at me like that.’

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘You know what,’ she snapped. ‘All simmering sex.’

  He just laughed—bitterly.

  That pissed her off even more. She pushed back into his space. ‘You were stripping me with your eyes and you know it.’

  ‘And you were loving it.’

  ‘So what the hell do you want?’ Why was he going septic on her when they wanted the same thing?

  ‘I want the real thing—if you even know what that is. Because maybe you’ve been faking all along? You said yourself you usually do. How would I know? You’re so damn good at lying and holding back.’

  She gaped for a stunned second. ‘You think I was faking?’ Now she was furious. And really hurt. She’d never felt like that with anyone, never let anyone…not like that.

  He filled the room, his arms crossed, watching her with that wide bright gaze that revealed nothing but seemed to be searching through all her internal baggage.

  ‘I wasn’t faking.’ Jerk. As if that kind of reaction happened every other day? She wouldn’t have practically moved in with him and be making an idiot of herself lying back and letting him do anything, if she didn’t feel as if it were something out of this world. And she wouldn’t be so completely miserable about it being the end of the week if she hadn’t been more than moved by him—in so many more ways than sexual. And she really didn’t want to be getting upset about it this instant. But her eyes were stinging. Angrily she tried to push past him.

  But his arms became iron bars that caught and brought her close against his body. ‘I know you weren’t.’ He sighed. ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘What is your problem?’ she mumbled, completely confused now.

  His hands smoothed down her back. His hardness softened her.

  ‘I want to know where I stand with you,’ he said. The gentle words stirred her hair.

  ‘What do you mean?’ She tilted her head back to read his expression and swallowed to settle her tense nerves. ‘There’s nowhere to stand. We’re having a fling.’

  ‘Not enough.’

  Her heart thudded—beating caution now, rather than anger.

  His gaze unwavering, he told her. ‘I want more.’

  How more? What more? Anything more was impossible. Tomorrow was Friday. They were almost at farewell point.

  As his gaze locked hers the safe feeling she’d had all week started to slip. Why was he messing with the boundaries?

  ‘You’re leaving here…’ Her breathing shortened. ‘Like on Saturday. This was just for—’

  ‘Fun,’ he finished for her. ‘Yeah, roger that. But we can still be friends, can’t we?’

  Friends? She didn’t have that many of those. Plenty of acquaintances. But not very many friends. And what did friends mean—did he want this to go beyond the week? Because she couldn’t do that—she had to keep this sealed in its short space of time. She had to keep those emotions sealed. She tried to step back but his hands tightened. She broke eye contact. ‘I don’t think we need to complicate this, Carter.’

  ‘Talking won’t make it complicated.’

  He wanted to talk? About what?

  ‘Can’t you let me into your life just a little bit, Penny?’

  ‘Will you put some clothes back on?’ She couldn’t think with him like this.

  ‘Why?’ he answered coolly. ‘I’m not afraid to get naked with you, Penny. I’m willing to bare all.’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous, Carter. This is a one-week fling.’ She pushed away from him—and he let her. ‘You don’t want to talk any more than I do. Why waste that precious time?’

  ‘When we could be rooting like rabbits?’

  ‘You like it that way. It’s what you’ve wanted from me from the moment we met.’ She turned on him, hiding her fear with aggression. ‘You’re not interested in me opening up to you in any way other than physical.’

  ‘Not true.’

  ‘Totally true. As far are you’re concerned all women are manipulative, conniving cows who’re trying to trap men into marriage.’

  ‘Many of the women I’ve met are.’

  ‘Well, I’m not like them.’

  ‘And that’s one thing we will agree on.’

  She blinked. Then shook her head. This conversation was going surreal. Why was her ultimate playboy going serious? ‘Trust me, you don’t want to get to know anything more about me, Carter.’

  ‘Yes I do.’

  Why? What had happened to turn him into Mr Sensitive? She wanted him back as Mr Sophisticated—and never-let-a-woman-stick smooth. ‘You know, from the moment we met you thought the worst of me,’ she provoked. ‘I was a thief, I was “pulling favours” to get a good job…’

  He actually coloured. ‘I didn’t really mean—’

  ‘It must be so hard for you to swallow the fact that your thief is the most conservative man in the damn building.’

  ‘Yeah, we both know I was wrong. I leapt to a couple of conclusions. You’re nothing like what I first thought.’

  She turned away from him. ‘What if the truth was worse?’

  ‘How worse?’ He sounded surprised.

  Way, way worse. But she shook her head and dodged it. ‘You’re as much of a commitment-phobe as I am. Can’t we just have some fun, Carter? We’ve only got a night or two left.’

  So many of the women in Carter’s life had been total drama queens—living their lives from one big scene to the next, which they maximised as if they were the stars of their own reality TV shows.

  Penny wasn’t into big scenes at all, even though it appeared her life had had its share of real drama. She’d pared it down, trying to live as simply as possible—at least in terms of her relationships. Getting by on the bare minimum.

  But she couldn’t deny all of her needs all the time. She needed to be needed—hence her determination to be indispensable in any job she took on. She needed to care for someone—that came out in the way she tended to Mason. She needed physical contact—that came out in the way she sought Carter’s body. But he wanted her to want more from him. More than just sex—even though that had been all he’d offered initially, now he wanted her to want it all. He’d always walked from any woman who wanted too much, so wasn’t it ironic that, now he wanted to give it all, the woman in question was determined not to want it?

  Perfectly happy in the past to provide nothing but pleasure, now he wanted to keep her fridge stocked, to make her salmon and salad, to watch her swim every night. He wanted her company, her quiet smiles, her interesting conversation, her compassion. He wanted his kitchen tinged with the scent of cinnamon. He wanted to travel the world with her, explore it the way she did—immersing in a different culture for a while, exploring the arts and politics and being interested. And damn it, there was even that newfound soft secret part of him that wanted to hold her, and to see her holding a tiny, sweet body. The thought of a baby with black-brown eyes and full cream skin made his arms ache.

  He wanted everything with her. And he wanted her to have everything. She needed it and he yearned to give it to her—to make her smiles shadow free. To give her some kind of home. He, who’d been happy for so long in his inner-city apartment, was now thinking about a place with a private tennis court and swimming pool and space to play with her.

  But he was in trouble. Because although she’d opened her body to him, he had a lot of work ahead of him to get anywhere near her heart.

  Carter wasn’t used to wanting things he might not be able to achieve. Carter wasn’t used to failure. And the threat of failure made Carter angry.

  He’d wanted her to tell him about Dan herself but she wasn’t going to. The resulting frustration flare
d out of control. In desperation he wielded a sword, hoping to pierce through her armour to let whatever it was that festered deep inside her free, so she could heal.

  He kissed her—hard, passionate and at great length.

  She wanted it. He could feel her shaking for it. And she thought she’d won—that she’d shut him up. At that moment he pulled back and hit her with it fast. So she’d be unprepared and unable to hide an honest response.

  ‘I know about Dan.’

  Her eyes went huge. Shimmering pits of inky blackness. ‘What?’

  ‘I know about Dan,’ he repeated and then followed up fast. His need to communicate almost making him stumble. ‘I know you loved him. I know how much you loved him. I know your grief literally ate you up.’

  ‘What?’ Penny couldn’t feel her body, and her thoughts were spinning. What had Carter just said?

  ‘I know how hurt you are.’

  ‘You don’t know anything.’ She walked out of his arms as a ghost walked through walls. No resistance, not feeling anything. She didn’t know who he’d been talking to but it was obvious he hadn’t got even half the story.

  ‘You can’t let losing him stop you from ever loving anyone again,’ Carter said passionately. ‘You can’t be lonely like this.’

  ‘I’m not lonely.’

  ‘You’re crippled with loneliness. You’re screaming for affection but you’re too scared to admit it.’

  She stared at him, utter horror rising in every cell. This couldn’t be happening, he just couldn’t be going there. He couldn’t be asking her about that.

  ‘Please tell me about it,’ he asked. ‘Let me help you.’

  She couldn’t bear to see the concern in his eyes. The compassion. The sincerity. He really didn’t know anything.

  Sick to her stomach, she turned away, pulling the halves of her blouse back together.

  ‘Damn it, don’t hide from me.’ His volume upped. ‘You promised to be honest with me, remember?’

  ‘You really want honesty?’ She swung back, stabbing the question.

  He paused, his eyes widening in surprise.

  She puffed out angrily. He had no idea he’d just taken the scab off the pus-filled hole in her soul. And spilling the poison would spoil their last days together. But there was no avoiding it, he’d pushed over a line she never let anyone past and one look at him told her he wasn’t going to let it go.

  ‘It wasn’t grief killing my appetite, it was guilt.’ The raw, ugly truth choked and burned her throat. ‘I didn’t love him. That’s the whole point.’

  Carter froze. Her breathing sped up even more. She hated him for what he was asking her to do. Thinking on this, remembering, speaking of it… It had been so long but it still crucified her heart. She tried to say it simply, quickly. So then she could go. Because then Carter would want her to.

  ‘Dan was my best friend’s twin.’

  She could see him processing—quickly.

  ‘Isabelle.’

  She nodded and pushed on. ‘We were neighbours. Born the same year, grew up together. Like triplets, you know? But when we were sixteen, Dan and I…grew close.’ She ran her tongue across dry lips. ‘It just happened. It was so easy. We were just kids…’

  But there was no excusing what she’d done. She closed her eyes; she didn’t want to see Carter’s reaction. Her breathing quickened more; she couldn’t seem to get enough air into her lungs to stop the spinning.

  ‘Everything changed that last year at school. I changed. Isabelle changed.’ Penny shook her head, trying to clear it. ‘Dan didn’t change—at least, not in the same direction.’ She sighed. ‘We were together a year or so, but I was bored. I had plans and they were different from his.’

  Icy sweat slithered across her skin, her blood beat just as cold.

  ‘He didn’t want us to break up. He cried. I hadn’t seen him cry in years. And do you know what I did?’

  Beneath her closed lids, the tears stung. ‘I giggled. I actually laughed at him.’

  Looking back, it had been the reaction of a silly young girl taken by surprise by his extreme reaction. She hadn’t realised he hadn’t seen the end of them coming—that she’d shocked him. But she was the one who hadn’t seen the most important signs of all—his distance, his depression, his desperation.

  She flashed her eyes open and stared hard at Carter, pushing through the last bit. ‘Our orchard ran between our houses and was lined with these big tall trees.’

  Her heart thundered as the memory took over her mind completely. ‘He was more upset than I realised. The next morning when I got up I looked out the window. And he…and he…’

  She couldn’t finish. Couldn’t express the horror of the shadow in the half-light that she’d seen from her bedroom. She felt the fear as she’d run down the stairs, the damp of the dew on her bare feet as she’d run, slipping, seeing the ladder lying on the grass.

  Carter muttered something. She didn’t hear what but all of a sudden his arms were around her as her lungs heaved. And this time she heard his horrible realisation.

  ‘You found him.’

  Hanging.

  Penny raised her hands, trying to hide from the memory. The scream ripped out from the depths of her pain. She twisted, to run, but his arms tightened even more. His whole body pinned her back and pulled her down to the ground.

  Her scream became a wail—a long cry of agony that she’d held for so long. The expression of a pain that never seemed to lessen—that just lay buried for days, weeks, months, years until something lifted the veil and let it out.

  And now it reverberated around the room—the anguish piercing through walls, smashing through bones. Until Carter absorbed it, pulling her closer still, pressing her face into his chest. His hands smoothing down her hair and over her back as she sobbed.

  She hated it. Hated him for making her say it. Hated remembering. Hated the guilt. Hated Dan for doing it.

  Hated herself for not stopping him.

  And for not being able to stop her meltdown now. She cried and cried and cried while Carter steadily rocked her. She hadn’t been held like this in so, so long. Hadn’t let anyone—but she couldn’t pull away from him now.

  She’d broken.

  He bent his head, resting it on hers as he kept swaying them both gently even as her shudders began to ease. He said nothing—something she appreciated because there really was nothing to say. It had happened. It was a part of her. Nothing could make it better.

  Nothing could make it go away. It would never be okay.

  Finally she stilled. She closed her eyes and drew on the last drops of strength that she knew she had—for she was a survivor.

  But in order to survive, she had to be alone.

  She pushed out of his arms. She didn’t want to look at him, her eyes hurt enough already.

  ‘Talk to me,’ he said softly.

  ‘Why?’ What was the point? She wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand, shaking her head as she did. ‘You didn’t sign up for this, Carter. You’re going away. You don’t want baggage and I come with a tonne. A million tonnes.’

  Finally she glanced at him. He looked pale. She wasn’t surprised. It was a hell of a lot to dump on anyone. And the last thing Carter wanted was complication—he’d made that more than clear right from the start.

  And, yeah, he wasn’t looking at her any more. All the pretence had gone. All the play had gone. He’d wanted her naked? Well, now she was stripped bare and what was left wasn’t pretty.

  Anger filled the void that the agony had drained. Why had he forced it? Why pry where he had no right to pry? This was a one-week fling, supposed to be fun, and he’d wrenched open her most private hell.

  And for what? Where was the ‘fun’ to come from this?

  ‘Penny…’

  ‘Don’t.’ She didn’t want his pity. She didn’t want him thinking he had to be super-nice to her now because she had problems in her past.

  ‘I want you to talk to me. I want to help
you.’

  She wasn’t a cot-case who needed kid gloves and sympathy. That was second best to what she really wanted.

  ‘No, you don’t,’ she struck out. ‘You think you’re so grown-up and mature with your sophisticated little flings. All so charming and satisfying. But you don’t want to handle anything really grown up. You don’t want emotional responsibility.’

  ‘Penny—’

  ‘And I don’t want anything more from you either.’ Her fury mounted, and she lied to cover the gaping hole inside. Her biggest lie ever. Desperately she wanted forgiveness and understanding and someone to love her despite all her mistakes.

  For Carter to love her.

  But he wanted to be her friend. And she couldn’t accept that because there was that stupid, desperate part of her that wanted to crawl back in his arms and beg him to hold her, to want her, to love her. She couldn’t do that to herself. The end hurt enough already and he’d feel awkward enough about easing away from her now. She had to escape to save him from her humiliation. Tears streamed again so she moved fast. Scrabbling to her feet, she literally sprinted.

  ‘Penny!’

  She heard a thud and a curse. But she kept running. Running was the only right answer.

  For hours she walked the streets, trying to pull herself together.

  Putting the memories back into the box was something she was used to. But putting away her feelings for Carter was harder. They were new and fragile and painful. Yeah, she strode out faster, she was as selfish as she’d been as a teen—wanting only what she wanted. Wanting everything for herself.

  But she wasn’t going to get it.

  Determinedly she thought back over what she’d eaten that day. Not enough. She made herself buy a sandwich from a twenty-four-hour garage. Chewed every bite and swallowed even though it clogged her throat. She grabbed a bottle of juice and washed the lumps of bread down. She wasn’t going to get sick again. She wasn’t going to let heartbreak destroy her body or her mind. She’d get through this—after all, she’d gotten through worse.

  She’d stay strong. She’d rebuild her life. She’d done it before and she’d do it again. Only the thought made her aches deepen. Always alone. She was tired of doing it alone. But she always would be alone—because she didn’t deserve anything more.