by Ella Frank
“If you say ‘got along,’ I’m going to kill you, since your whole argument that we could pretend to date is that we know each other so well.”
I chuckled. “Calm down over there, Jesus. I was just going to say that you and I have never really had a reason to go to each other’s house.”
“I wish this wasn’t the first.”
“Yeah. Me too.”
We fell silent, taking a moment to think about the way the night had unfolded. If someone had told me I’d be driving downtown to move in with Alexander Thorne and play his pretend boyfriend, I would’ve told them they had lost their mind. But the more I thought about the threats, the angrier I became, and the idea of letting someone else take care of this just didn’t sit right.
For one, Xander was practically family, and us Baileys looked after one another. And two, if anything happened to the man sitting to my right, my brother would kill me. So the way I saw it, there was really no choice.
I knew Xander doubted my ability to pull this off, and if I thought about it too hard, I might agree. But if the alternative was him getting hurt—or worse—then I’d do everything in my power to make sure he was safe.
“Do you think we should call Bailey?”
I looked over to see Xander’s phone in his hand and shook my head.
“Not yet. The less people who know, the better, for now. But we’ll have to tell him eventually. Just in case a photo is leaked or—”
“A photo?”
“Well, you are famous, Xander. I’ve seen you on those entertainment shows, and I’m sure you’re in magazines occasionally. What if Bay sees a photo of us together?”
“So what if he does? Maybe we ran into each other downtown.”
“And just so happened to be holding hands?” Xander’s mouth fell open, and when no words came out, I added, “That is what you said would need to happen to make this believable, right?”
Xander cleared his throat. “Yes. That’s one of them.”
“So yeah, we definitely need to let Bay know at some point. I’d hate having to explain that to him. What a shitshow.”
Xander grimaced.
“So, you gonna tell me where I’m going, or what? I hate driving in the city.”
“Why doesn’t that surprise me?”
“Because you know me.” I flashed a grin Xander’s way. “I told you. This is going to be a breeze.”
7
Xander
“THIS IS ME.” As the elevator glided to a stop at the twenty-fifth floor, Sean side-eyed me.
“Yeah, I kinda got that, since it’s private and there’s nothing else above us.”
The last few minutes were the quietest Sean had been the entire way over here. After we’d parked, he’d insisted we stop by the lobby so he could take a quick look around before we went up to my place. But as the doors slid open and he stepped out into the narrow entrance hall, Sean stopped dead in his tracks and let out a low whistle.
Directly in front of him was a large marble feature wall with a beautiful gas-lit fireplace in the center. To the right, a slim feature window that rose from the floor to ceiling overlooked the city, and to the left was the way into the heart of the place.
I was about to step out and give him the guided tour, when I heard, “Are you fucking kidding me with this place? This is where you live?”
Sean glanced over his shoulder at me, and as I walked out of the elevator and the doors slid shut, he shook his head.
“It’s like a goddamn hotel.” He paused for a moment and then added, “Not one that I’ve ever stayed in, but you know, one those classy fucking places.”
As I moved around him, I took in the immaculate décor of the entry foyer and nodded. “I suppose I could see that.”
Sean scoffed. “You suppose you could see—” He stopped in the foyer and looked from left to right. This was where the condo really showed its size, because you could choose to go either way, the apartment encompassing the entire twenty-fifth floor.
To the right were the bedrooms, pool, and gym, to the left the living areas, and the double doors directly in front of him opened up onto the terrace that surrounded the top floor of the building.
When it was clear Sean was at a loss for words, I turned to head toward the living room and kitchen.
“If you’ll come with me, I’ll make us both a drink and then show you around.”
With his hand still gripping his duffel like it was a lifeline back to a world he understood, I gestured toward it and said, “You can leave that here if you like.”
Sean looked down to his bag and nodded. “Yeah, uh, okay.” He placed it on the floor by one of the cream accent chairs and began to follow me through the halls.
As we passed by one of the many seating areas, I looked back to see him walking carefully as though he was inside a museum, and I couldn’t help but grin.
He was usually so confident and sure of himself, and I’d never seen Sean look so out of place, so…uneasy because of his surroundings. He reminded me of a bull in a china shop, or a little kid who’d been told to keep his hands to himself and not break anything. It was really rather endearing—until, of course, he opened his mouth.
“Fucking hell, Xander. I was joking around about the fancy ass skyrise. But this place is a little over the top, don’t you think? I mean, you’re the only one who lives here. How many bedrooms does a person need?”
I stopped at the entrance to my kitchen and turned to him. “About ten more if it puts distance between you and me.”
“Hilarious.”
I flashed him a fake grin as I made my way to the fridge and opened the door. I looked at the fully stocked shelves. “What’s your poison tonight? Beer, wine, something harder?”
When I got no response, I looked over my shoulder and saw Sean walking around the kitchen island and heading toward the main feature of the place—the great room.
With a soaring twelve-foot dome ceiling that housed an elaborate chandelier, the rotunda sitting area offered mesmerizing views of both the city and the lake from every vantage point.
A luxurious leather couch curved around each side for maximum viewing potential, and when Sean came to a stop on the plush white rug, he placed his hands on his hips and slowly pivoted, taking in the multitude of twinkling lights outside the floor-to-ceiling windows.
“Holy shit.”
I shut the fridge door and braced myself for whatever smartass comment he was about to make. But when nothing came, and Sean just stood there looking out at the million-dollar view surrounding him, I waited in silence, letting him drink it all in.
“I…I didn’t even know places like this existed.” He turned, and when he spotted me over in the kitchen, I smirked.
“They don’t. I paid top dollar to make this one of a kind.”
“One of a— This is a goddamn castle, Xander.” Sean looked to the chandelier and dome ceiling above him. “You have a fucking turret.”
A bark of laughter escaped me before I could rein it in, but Sean’s reaction was priceless. He was so blue collar, even when he wasn’t wearing a uniform. All of the Baileys were. They grew up with that “one of the boys” mentality. He loved his barbecues on the weekend, watching sports, and drinking beers in the afternoon.
I was the exact opposite. “It’s not a turret. It’s a rotunda.”
“A what?”
“A ro— Oh, forget it.” I headed in his direction, then stopped by a touchscreen control panel on the wall. “When I moved in and saw this view, I knew it would be a shame not to experience it from all angles. So I hired someone to make it…special.”
“Uh, yeah, I’m pretty sure special might be a fucking understatement.”
“I’m glad you think so. But not only does it provide views from wherever you stand, when you’re sitting, and you press this button here”—I lightly brushed my finger over the controls, and Sean’s eyes immediately fell to the floor moving under his feet—“the center of the room rotates.”
> Ahh… If only I could capture and replay this moment for Bailey and Kieran, because Sean completely and utterly gobsmacked was a rare occurrence. He looked like Alice after she’d fallen down the rabbit hole, and it was extremely gratifying to have tripped him up.
“Your fucking floor moves?”
“It does. It’s a slow rotation, obviously,” I said, as though there was nothing at all unusual about having a revolving living room. “Barely noticeable, except your view continues to change. It does a full 360 rotation in forty-five minutes.”
The sheer bewilderment in Sean’s eyes made me chuckle. It was the first time I’d felt like myself all night, and I could’ve hugged him for it. But I didn’t, of course.
I turned on my heel and made my way back to the kitchen. “Ready for that drink now?”
8
Sean
HOLY FUCKING SHIT.
Okay, Bailey had always said that Xander’s place was unreal, like something out of a movie. But as I stood on his revolving living room floor, I didn’t even think Hollywood could come up with this shit—only Xander.
Ever since I’d stepped off his elevator and into his palatial paradise, I realized that even though I’d known Xander for most of his life, I really didn’t know anything about him at all.
For example, just how extravagant he was. From his car, to his clothes, to his fucking furniture, there was nothing subtle with this guy. Everything was designer or top dollar. Not that I cared. Xander could do whatever the hell he wanted with his money—God knew he had truckloads of it—but I couldn’t wrap my head around the fact that the scrawny little kid that grew up next door to us, and still trekked out to the burbs for a barbecue every weekend, was the same guy who lived in this modern-day castle.
It was baffling.
“So? Your poison?” Xander asked for the second time tonight. “Beer? Wine?”
“A water’s fine, thanks.” His place had already made my head spin, so the last thing I needed was alcohol. Plus, I’d been steering clear of the stuff for the past few months and, I had to admit, felt better for it.
“Water it is.” Xander pulled a glass carafe out of the fridge and placed it on the kitchen counter before grabbing two glasses from one of his pristine white cabinets.
The place was immaculate, with clean lines and nothing out of order. But then again, he probably had a maid. I couldn’t imagine Xander carving out a day for cleaning, especially a place this massive.
“So…how are we going to do this?” Xander said, pushing a glass across the counter as I made my way out of the turret thingy and into his kitchen.
“Well, from the looks of it, I’m assuming this place is monitored by security cameras. In the garage, the lobby—what about the elevator? Do you know if they have any in there?”
Xander took a sip of water. “I sure hope not.”
His tone made it pretty obvious what he was getting at, and not wanting to linger on the idea of him having sex in the elevator I just rode up in, I chose to ignore him.
“I’ll check that out in further detail later. Do you know the building manager’s name?”
“Yes, it’s Gerald.”
“Good. I’ll fill him in on what’s going on and make sure access to your floor is restricted. But I want to make sure his staff is kept in the dark as far as who I am. They will know me as your boyfriend. Only he will know me as more. Work for you?”
“Do I really have a choice?”
“No.”
“Then it works for me.”
“Thought it might. For now, though, what we’re really going to have to focus on is your comings and goings. Where do you go after work, before work, for lunch? Do you have any habits? The gym? The coffee shop you go to every morning? I’ll also want to check out your workplace, the people around you, but we can start on that tomorrow.”
Xander set his glass on the counter and brushed a hand through his hair, the thick strands falling back in the exact position they’d been styled in that evening for his broadcast—always camera ready.
“This is crazy. I still can’t believe it’s actually happening. That you have to be here, dealing with this.”
“Better me than some stranger, no?”
“I suppose.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“I didn’t mean that.”
“Yeah, you did, but I don’t care. You need help, Xander, so suck it up and deal with it.”
Xander’s eyes flared at my no-nonsense tone, and he crossed his arms. “Fine. I’ll deal with it. I’ll even deal with you if it means staying alive. But this is all going to be for nothing if we can’t make it believable.”
“The cover story, you mean? You’re still hung up on that?”
“Yes. You’re saying you need to be with me around the clock, and I understand that the best way to do that is to have people think we’re dating, but—”
“But what?”
Xander looked me over and shrugged. “I would never date someone who dresses as badly as you. Not to mention the way you act and talk. I just—I guess I don’t understand how we’re going to convince people this is real.”
Not offended in the slightest by Xander’s assessment of the things he found lacking in me, I placed my hands on the counter and gave him a once-over.
“News flash, Mr. Anchorman. I would never date someone like you either. You know, since you have a cock.”
Xander arched an eyebrow. “See, this is exactly what I’m talking about.”
“Oh, come on. It’s called undercover for a reason. We act. It’s not like I’m a pimp or some druggie living on the streets, but I seemed to play a pretty convincing role there. I just need to do a little background, a little research about the kind of guys you date to get into my role.”
“So basically you’re going to ask me a bunch of personal, invasive questions.”
“You catch on quick.”
“Lucky me.” His droll tone made me laugh.
“It’s not going to be that bad.”
“Says the man who won’t have to answer intimate, personal questions to someone he grew up with.”
“Are you feeling shy? That doesn’t seem like you.”
He shot a death glare my way. “How about murderous?”
“Probably not the best choice, all things considered.” And just like that, the mood in the room shifted back to serious, as we both remembered why I was there in the first place.
“So.” I cleared my throat. “I’m going to need names of your past flings, hookups, whatever, and I’m going to ask you some questions about them. You need to answer me honestly.”
“Wonderful.”
I fished out the small notepad I kept in the back pocket of my jeans. “You got a pen?”
Xander looked to the small pad. “You just keep one of those in your back pocket?”
I shrugged. “Habit, I guess.”
“Wouldn’t it make sense to carry a pen too?”
Well, yeah, I supposed it would, but—“Do you have a pen or not?”
Xander walked to the opposite end of the counter, opened a draw, and pulled out a pen and an A4-sized notepad. I went to take it. But when he didn’t immediately let go, I aimed a questioning look his way.
“Whatever I tell you here,” he said, “it stays between us.”
“As opposed to…”
“What do you think?”
“Ahh…you got some secrets rattling around this castle, Xander?”
Xander narrowed his eyes. “I just want to make sure that my private life stays my private life.”
I tugged on the pen and paper, and when he let it go, I smirked. “Who am I going to tell?”
“I mean it. Not even Bailey, okay?”
I eyed him for a beat, and when Xander didn’t waver I gave a clipped nod, wondering what exactly he was being so protective of. I figured Bailey would know anything and everything, them being best friends and all—but maybe not.
“Understood. What’s this for?” I s
aid, holding up the pad.
“You’re going to need more paper than that tiny notebook if you want to know all of my hookups since Bailey. I like to have sex—often. It’s a good release from a stressful job. When I have downtime, I make sure to find it. I also make them sign an NDA, so I have all their information for your background checks. You can use that to write down any traits I find attractive, other than the fact they have a cock. Which is the only requirement I’m looking for, according to you.”
As Xander held my stare, I made sure not to react. He was pushing, waiting for me to tell him I was out, that this was too weird or uncomfortable. But as I stood there in his mammoth kitchen in a silent standoff, all I could think was how interesting his eyes were.
Really, they were, like, turquoise or some shit.
“Earth to Sean?” Xander waved his hand between us. “Did you hear me?”
“Oh, uh, yeah. Basically you like to fuck. So do most guys. That’s nothing new.”
“Wow.” Xander pinched the bridge of his nose. “How you don’t have a girlfriend is such a mystery.”
“Who said I want a girlfriend?” When Xander dropped his hand and looked at me, I added, “My job doesn’t really make dating easy. Guess I’m kinda like you in that sense. Casual hookups work better. That way I don’t have anyone nagging me about my long hours, the danger associated with it, blah blah blah.”
“Don’t you get lonely?”
“Don’t you?” I shook my head. “I like my space. Haven’t really found anyone I want to share it with yet.”
“Or anyone that would.”
“Hey, I don’t see anyone else living here.” I looked around the enormous kitchen. “So I’d be careful on passing judgment.”
Xander picked up our glasses and placed them in the sink, and after he put the carafe back in the fridge, he gestured with a tilt of his chin for me to follow him.
As he took us back through the hall we’d entered through, I picked up my duffel and continued in the direction he was walking. We passed by an indoor pool and gym area that looked better equipped than the one I was a member at. Then we continued on past several bedrooms, all enormous, all fully furnished, until we finally came to the end of the hallway, where Xander stopped in front of a set of double doors.
