Breaking Even (Sterling Shore 5)

“This. The hair, the lipstick, the dress you don’t really want to be wearing. I prefer the real Brin.”

That’s a relief, because I’m not overly fond of the fake Brin. I notice he doesn’t say anything about not wearing the slinky panties again, but I can give him that. Especially since I actually enjoy feeling his hands against my skin.

“I prefer being the real Brin. I just knew everyone else would be questioning why you were here with me. Just like Leah did.”

He runs his fingers over my arms, dragging them up and down in practiced motions.

“That’s bullshit. You’re beautiful when you’re just you.”

Okay. So that just makes it all worth it. I really don’t think anyone has ever called me beautiful, and I know I look like a dork grinning right now.

He smiles as he stands up and pulls me to my feet, but as we walk away, my lie sinks in. I just told him I didn’t want anything but fun. Then again, life is nothing but a series of settlements.

I can settle for being his no matter how brief it is. As long as it’s just me.

“I only have one rule,” I say as we make our way toward his car.

“A rule?” he muses, threading our fingers together.

“If we’re having sex without condoms, you can’t be having sex with someone else.”

He looks at me as though I’ve lost my mind, but I’m not backing down from this.

“I’m not going to have sex with anyone else. And neither are you.”

Relief washes over me, and

I’m able to breathe once again. That’s good enough. It’s almost like he’s really mine. Almost.

Chapter 11

RYE

“Is that cake?” Wren asks as he comes into my office.

“Yep,” I grumble, looking at the delicious morsel that is more than likely full of blood and worms, considering that’s the only reason she had those gross things in her fridge. She never did anything else with them. At least I don’t think she did.

I’m going to be sick.

With a regretful sigh, I slide the cake off my desk and into the trash. It had better be a gross cake. I’ll be pissed if that tempting thing didn’t have anything wrong with it.

“Oh,” Wren says through a snicker. “Prank cake?”

It showed up an hour ago. It was just sitting on my desk with nothing attached to it. It had to be from her.

“Can’t be too careful.” I pout, still staring at the chocolate-frosted wonder that has teased and tortured me. I’ll make her fix me a real cake to make up for it, and I’ll stare over her shoulder the whole time to ensure it’s not tampered with.

“I guess the two of you are still on good terms,” he says as he sits down.

Jessica walks in, halting my response, and her eyes go straight to the cake sticking out of my small trashcan. She looks... sad?

“You didn’t like my cake?” she asks pitifully.

Ah, hell. “You made that?” I ask in disbelief.

She frowns as she nods. “It was an apology cake.”

I just threw away good chocolate for no good reason.