Love or Lust 2

by Rachael Brownell

  “That doesn’t mean Milo or Drake didn’t listen. Maybe they like the idea.”

  “Doubtful. You realize all of us are close, right? We talk. Daily. The four of us. We have since the beginning.”

  “Oh yeah. And what do boys gossip about when they’re alone?”

  “The same things girls do, I imagine. The opposite sex.”

  Rolling my eyes, I attempt to dig a little deeper. “Like what? Who you think is pretty?”

  “Something like that. More like, who’s manipulative. Who’s trying to rig the game. We don’t do alliances, Presley. That’s not how any of us want to play the game.”

  That’s good news for me considering that’s the only way Teegan and Courtney can get rid of me.

  “Exactly.”

  Shit. I said that out loud.

  “Look, we all like you. As a person. As a friend. Some of us in more ways than just that. We also respect you. You’re playing fair. You’re letting the chips fall wherever they fall.”

  “I know this is a game, that we’re all after the same thing, but I wish it didn’t feel like that sometimes.”

  “We’re not all after the money, Presley. Some of us came here for other reasons.”

  The way he’s looking at me tells me everything I need to know about Lennon’s reasons for being here. He came looking for love. He might be the only one.

  His phone begins ringing in his pocket. When he glances at the screen, his face falls.

  “I have to take this. I’m sorry,” he says as he stands, walking out my front door without looking back.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Day 28

  Lennon was on the phone for close to an hour. He apologized profusely when he returned, only to have his apology interrupted by his phone ringing again.

  The second call was short, and when he plops down on the couch next to me, he lets out a sigh, tossing his phone on the coffee table after silencing it.

  Work.

  His life outside this place.

  We all have one. His are starting to intertwine.

  “I may have to drop out,” he begins, closing his eyes and resting his head against the back of the couch.

  “Why?”

  “The judge just moved up one of my cases.”

  “Can’t someone else cover for you?”

  Lennon smiles but doesn’t open his eyes. “They’ve been covering for me. My boss is going to ask the judge for an extension and try holding him off until I’m back, but since we have no idea when that might be, it’ll only work for so long. I’ve been working this case for the last year. I know it inside and out. It would take weeks to get someone else caught up, and I don’t want to give it to anyone else. I want to be the one that nails this asshole.”

  You can hear the passion in his voice. It’s the same passion I hear in Naomi’s voice when she talks about teaching. The same passion I hear when Jace is mixing drinks.

  I used to sound like that when I talked about work. Until Wren ruined that for me as well.

  “I’m sorry, Presley. This isn’t how I wanted our date to end.”

  But that was it. He kissed me on the top of the head and walked out the door. He had work to do.

  So did I.

  I needed to find a job I was passionate about. Something that wasn’t connected to Wren or his family. But that was going to be a challenge considering they own a large chain of hotels.

  Still, I did my research. Took down some notes. Made a list of possibilities. It wasn’t until there was a soft knock at my door that I looked at the time and saw it was almost midnight.

  “Come in,” I called out, gathering my papers into a pile.

  “Why does it look like you’re doing homework?” Jace asks, taking a seat next to me and pulling me onto his lap.

  “Because I kind of am. I need a plan for when this is over. A job. A new life. I can’t live with Naomi forever.”

  Taking the sheets from my hands, Jace browses through all my notes twice before setting them aside.

  “Remember how I wanted to tell you something the other day but you distracted me with your naked body?” he whispers as he presses feather-light kisses against my neck.

  “Mmm-hmm,” I moan, the sensation overwhelming.

  “Want to know what I was going to tell you?”

  “Nope. Too serious. Keep doing that.” Tilting my head so he has better access to my neck, Jace complies with my request. His hands start to wander, and when his fingers graze the exposed skin at my waistline, I can’t help the sigh that escapes.

  Sliding one arm around my waist and the other behind my knees, Jace stands and carries me to the bedroom, his lips never stopping their assault on my neck. When he takes my earlobe between his teeth and tugs, I almost lose it on the spot.

  A blinking red light catches my attention out of the corner of my eye as he lays me on the bed I made only hours earlier.

  “We can’t, Jace,” I say between heavy breaths. “They’re watching. And I can’t . . .”

  Desire flashes in his eyes before the realization hits him. With one last kiss, this time on my lips, he tugs his shirt over his head.

  Was it realization I saw? Or does he not care anymore that everyone will know? That our sexcapades will be broadcast for the world to see.

  “Are you going to get under the covers?” He asks, popping the button on his jeans.

  My focus is trained on his hands as they slowly pull the material away from his body. When I make no effort to move, he tugs my legs toward him, wraps his arms around me, and tosses me over his shoulder. All I can do is gasp as Jace pulls the covers down, gently lays me back on the bed, and crawls in next to me, covering us with the blanket before wrapping his body around mine.

  “Sleep, beautiful. I’m not going anywhere.”

  Closing my eyes, I dreamed of a life with Jace. One where we didn’t have to hold back. Where we could cuddle every night and I’d wake up in his arms every morning. With a smile on my face and love in my heart.

  Yet when I wake up, he isn’t beside me. His side of the bed—God, did I really just call it his side?—is empty and cold. My smile fades until I hear a beeping noise. When I go to inspect, I find Jace, in only his boxer-briefs, standing in front of the coffee maker.

  “You were supposed to stay in bed,” he says without turning around.

  “I heard a noise.”

  “That would be me making you breakfast in bed.” He still hasn’t looked at me. His focus is on the coffee as he stirs in cream and sugar. “Go. I’ll be there in a minute.”

  Rolling my eyes, I turn and head back into the bedroom. When I get there, I’m not sure what I should do. Crawl back under the covers? Sit on top of them? Get dressed?

  I’m still wearing the yoga pants and hoodie I pulled on after Lennon left last night.

  “You don’t listen very well, do you?” Jace says, breezing past me with two plates stacked up his right arm and two mugs of coffee in his left hand. He sets everything down on the nightstand and crawls in, holding the covers back so I can get in next to him.

  As soon as we’re situated, our backs resting against the headboard, I hand him a plate and reach for my coffee.

  “So about last night. That thing I’ve been wanting to tell you.”

  His playful tone has disappeared. Whatever he wants to tell me is serious. I need to lighten the mood a little. It’s too early for this.

  “You do realize that nothing you tell me will change the way I feel about you, right? You’ll still be devilishly handsome and sweet.” Setting my coffee aside, I place a hand on each of his cheeks and stare straight into his eyes before continuing. “If you’re about to throw your dirty laundry in my face in an attempt to scare me away, you can save your breath. You. Are. Stuck. With. Me.”

  Punctuating each word with a kiss, I feel Jace’s smile grow at my statement.

  “Not trying to scare you away. I just want to prepare you.”

  “For what?”

  “My
life.”

  “After this is all over?” I ask, confused about where he’s going with this.

  “Yes. I was hoping you might want to come back to Miami with me for a little while. Especially since I know you don’t have a job you need to get back to. You could stay with me. We could get to know each other a little better. Without the cameras in our faces.”

  That sounds amazing, but I have a sinking feeling. Something is telling me that if he needs to prepare me for his life, he might not be the person I thought he was. And if that’s the case, I may have just lied to him. There’s a lot I can accept, but if he breaks my trust, I won’t hesitate to run.

  Fast and far.

  “Are you married?” I ask, the question coming out before I can stop myself.

  “What? No!” Wrapping his arm around me, he pulls me close, his fork falling off his plate and onto the comforter. “Is that what you think? God, Presley. I never meant to give you the impression that you would be walking into a life that someone else was already a part of. Not married, never have been, someday hope to be.”

  “You just sound so serious. Like I should be scared of your life or something.”

  “Not scared, just prepared,” he replies, kissing my temple.

  “You’re a bartender, Jace. I get it. You work late nights. At clubs. With hot women probably hitting on you left and right. Yes, I’ll be jealous, but I also know how to control myself.”

  “That’s the thing . . .” his voice trails off as thinks over his next words.

  Words he doesn’t get to share with me because there’s a knock at my door.

  Perfect fucking timing. We can’t even seem to have a moment alone to have a conversation without being interrupted. At this rate, I’m never going to find out what he meant.

  “Ignore it. Please,” he begs as I push the covers away.

  “I’ll be right back.”

  Lennon is on the other side of the door, looking dashing in a three-piece suit.

  “It’s a little hot to be all dressed up, don’t you think?” I ask, leaning against the door frame in the hope he doesn’t try to come inside. If Jace weren’t in my bed, practically naked, I wouldn’t be worried about it, but that’s not the case.

  “I’m dying in this thing. I just wanted to let you know I’m taking off for the day. They’ve agreed to let me do a remote conference with my team, but I can’t do it here. I have to go into the city so we can be on a secure network. I’ll be back tonight.”

  “Okay. Try not to work too hard,” I joke.

  “I’m sorry about last night,” he replies, taking a step toward me and placing his hands on my hips. “I was hoping it would be a more romantic night, and then we were sidelined. Just know that the next chance we get to spend some time together, alone, will be more memorable. In a good way.”

  Lennon quickly presses his lips to mine before turning and jogging toward the main house. He rounds the corner and is out of sight in seconds.

  When I turn to close the door, I find Jace standing behind me, fully dressed, arms crossed over his chest.

  “I need to get going. Can we please talk about this later? Without any interruptions?”

  “Of course,” I say, sounding more excited than I actually am to have that talk with him. Walking over to him, I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him down to me, kissing him deeply.

  Because he needs to know he’s the only one I want to kiss. That I choose to kiss him. That Lennon kissed me, not the other way around. Yes, I let it happen, but I barely had time to comprehend what was happening before it was over and he was gone.

  “I’m falling in love with you, Presley,” Jace whispers against my lips as he tilts my head to the side and takes control of the kiss.

  “So am I.”

  That’s all I say as I melt against his body.

  “Is that supposed to be salsa?” Milo asks, peering over my shoulder.

  Sadly, it is.

  “I asked them to get me salsa, and they bought pico instead. I know it’s basically the same thing, but I hate raw tomatoes. I don’t like onion either or jalapenos. Unless they’re part of the flavor but not in pieces. I’m picky.”

  “So you crushed them?”

  “No, I put everything in the blender with a little bit of water and hot sauce hoping it would smooth it out.”

  It didn’t work. It tasted like watered down hot sauce. The tomatoes were still chunky. The jalapenos were the only color and they stood out.

  “Did you ask if they had a food processor you could use?” he asks as he dips his finger in the watery concoction. I don’t miss the wrinkle in his brow as the flavor hits his pallet. I can’t blame him.

  “No, and now I need to clean the blender really good or we’re going to have chunks of watery salsa in our margaritas,” I state firmly, turning off the burner and moving the pan. “Everything else is done if you want to put your tacos together.”

  Turning my attention to the blender, I fill it with soapy water and get to work scrubbing. It’s not until I’m rinsing it for the second time that I notice Milo with his head in the fridge, rummaging around.

  “What are you looking for?”

  “Cheese.”

  Shit! Cheese. How could I forget the cheese?

  Closing my eyes, I let out a heavy sigh as I tell him I forgot the cheese. He doesn’t seem to be bothered by it, but I am. No salsa. No cheese. What kind of taco is that? It’s frickin’ meat in a shell with some lettuce and sour cream. It’s lacking flavor on multiple levels.

  I need a drink.

  After I’ve poured each of us a margarita and made my own half-assed tacos, I take a seat across from Milo. He’s smiling as he bites down, shooting me a wink.

  “Sorry the tacos are so bland.”

  “It’s all good. Your margarita is on point, so that makes up for it.”

  Really? Taking a big sip, I almost choke as the frozen liquid makes its way down my throat.

  “A little strong,” I cough.

  “Why make them weak? What would be the point of that?”

  “I’d be able to handle more than one,” I joke. “Seriously, though. This has been a disaster. I mean, it’s not a secret I suck at cooking, but still. Of all the meals I’ve attempted to make this week, this may be my biggest failure, and you deserve better.”

  “The fact that you care means more than anything,” he begins. I can tell there’s more he wants to say, but he’s just staring at me, debating. “Listen, my first meal this week was overcooked and salty as fuck, but the conversation was nice. My second meal was perfect, but the company was lacking. My third was good, but the conversation was one-sided and made me uncomfortable. Sometimes it’s not about what’s on the plate and more about the company you keep.”

  “Do I get to guess who was who?” I ask, smirking at him.

  “No. That wouldn’t be nice. Plus, if you think about it hard enough, I’m sure you could figure it out without me telling you.”

  I sure can.

  Bella. Teegan. Courtney. In that order.

  “Can I ask you something?” Taking another sip of his margarita, Milo barely flinches at the strong taste of tequila.

  “Of course. What’s on your mind?” I reply quickly, a little nervous about where this conversation is headed.

  “You. I know you’re aware some of the girls are trying to get us to vote you out.”

  “Yup. And I don’t plan on stopping them. They can do whatever they want, believe whatever they want. No matter what I say, it won’t change their minds. Why waste my time?”

  “Is what they’re saying true? Are you really stringing along both Lennon and Jace?”

  “What do you think?” I ask, honestly curious about how he sees the situation.

  “They refuse to talk about it. Jace and Lennon.” I nod but don’t reply, so he continues, “I think you like them both. I don’t think you’re the kind of girl that would string someone along just to win a stupid competition. I’ve seen how you are w
ith the other guys. I know how you are when you’re with me. You don’t give me the impression that you want more than friendship, and that’s perfectly fine. My feelings aren’t hurt. They would be if you were playing me, though, and that’s what the girls are trying to convince us of. That you’re playing both of them to stay as long as you can.”

  The accusation hurts, but I can see where they would get that idea. Because I can’t have both of them.

  “I’ll be honest with you, but I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t share this with the girls. It’s really none of their business, though I doubt they would believe it anyway. I’m not stringing them along. I do like both of them, but I love one of them. They both know this. I made my decision, and as much as it hurt one of them to hear, he refuses to stop trying to change my mind. I respect it, but the more time I spend with the other one, the more certain I am I made the right choice.”

  “You aren’t going to tell me which one, are you?” he asks, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. There’s a smirk on his face telling me he finds my dilemma amusing.

  It’s anything but. It’s stressful more than anything else.

  “Now where’s the fun in that?” I mimic his stance, crossing my arms over my chest, forgetting my tank top is low cut until Milo’s gaze leaves mine, falling lower and staying there.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Day 29

  Decision day as I’m now calling it.

  It has a nice ring to it, I think.

  It’s better than calling it the “day of dread” like I have been in my head. Because I honestly do dread this day every week. It’s scary to think I might be leaving this place.

  Still, I gather my things and make sure I’m prepared in case I’m the one packing up in a few hours. I don’t want to think about going home yet. About leaving this place. Leaving Bella. Leaving Jace. Still, I pulled my suitcase from the back of the closet and opened it on the bed, tossing in my dirty clothes.

  I wasn’t going to pack everything in case I was lucky enough to be granted one more week here. I was going to get organized, though, in case I was the one given five minutes to get my shit and get out. I didn’t want to leave anything behind.