Faking It with the Frenemy

“Yeah…” I say almost out of habit, then shake my head at how ridiculous I’m being. Kim isn’t stupid. “No. This is a disaster. Maybe Samantha can coach Vi.” But I wouldn’t want Samantha to manipulate Vi into saying something she doesn’t want to, not even to stick it to Geneva.

I can sense Kim shifting next to me. “That’s not the only way,” she says.

“Yeah?” I drop the hand and straighten up. “What else is there?”

“We could always get married.”

I stare at Kim and wait for her to laugh and say, “Just kidding”…but she doesn’t.

As I keep staring, her cheeks flush. “I mean, it makes sense,” she says. “You’ll win any custody battle. Samantha said it’d be easier if you were married. And we’re friendly and compatible. Besides, Vi and I get along, which is a huge plus. I’m sure that’ll count for something with the judge.”

Her explanation makes perfect sense. My head is on board, but my gut is saying I shouldn’t even consider it because she hasn’t mentioned love—or even the possibility of it.

The thing is, I refuse to marry for some other, well-intentioned reason again. Been there, done that, and I’ve got a messy custody battle coming up as a result. It’s going to hurt Vi. And I want what my parents have—growing old together, making jokes, having each other’s back no matter what. And they wouldn’t have any of that without love.

Kim shifts. “Okay, well…I guess not. Just an idea.”

I want to hug her, thank her, tell her she’s an amazing person… But I don’t. I’m afraid I’m going to say yes because I want her even if all she can offer is a logical rationale, sans love. Feeling sad, I shake my head. “No. That’s not going to work.”

“Oh…”

And I feel like the biggest tool in the world. “You shouldn’t have to marry me just because you want to help Vi,” I explain, desperate to ease the sting of the rejection. “I don’t want that.” I want her to marry for all the right reasons, because…because I love her too much to let her make the same mistake I made. If I said yes, I’d do my best to be a good husband, but she deserves more than that. She should have what my parents have, too.

“I get it. No problem.” She gets up. “Listen, I need to wrap up a presentation I’m working on for Salazar.”

Her voice is brisk, but I swear I can hear a tiny tremor. “Kim—”

“I really have to go.” She doesn’t meet my eyes. Instead, she turns to Champ. “Come on, boy. Time to go home.”

Then, before I can say more, she takes the dog and leaves, the door clicking closed behind them.

Chapter Fifty-Five

Kim

Oh, why did I think it was a great idea to propose to Wyatt?

The urge to slam the door is almost too much, but I resist and close it quietly instead. I don’t want Wyatt to hear it and think I’m upset, even if I am. It wasn’t his fault he rejected my proposal.

Which is hurtful.

I throw myself on the couch and prop my feet up on the table. Champ hops up next to me, lending me his warmth. Scratching his head, I think about what just happened.

Did I not lay it out right? It’s what any of the billionaires I know would do. Ryder, for one, married his wife initially to win a wager with his father. So did his siblings, for that matter. Hilary pretended to date Mark to help him out when Ceinlys was determined to marry him off to some brain-dead heiress.

Maybe he could tell you weren’t really being honest.

The thought is embarrassing. Was I that transparent? Because I was remembering how all those relationships, which started out fake, turned into something genuine and real. Every single one of them ended up happy and in love.

But that doesn’t mean I expect ours to be that way… Does it?

Yeah, it does. Don’t lie to yourself.

I sigh, feeling deflated and defeated. I do want that. There’s a connection between us, and I… Well, I love Wyatt. He’s fun, sexy, genuine… I adore the way he tries to do the right thing, even if it’s unpleasant and he could delegate it to somebody else. Like taking care of Vi. I know so many people who hire “experts” to deal with their kids, especially when they don’t have the smoothest relationship. He’s big enough to admit when he’s wrong and confident enough to ask for help when he needs it.

Maybe he likes to have sex with me and hang out together, but he doesn’t care about me enough to get married. Not even temporarily, not even to keep Vi.

God. Now I feel like a cockroach. And about as loved as the ones Princess used to leave on my doorstep. I haven’t seen any recently, but it could be that Champ eats them before I notice.