Oh shit. “Us.”
He nodded solemnly, watching me closely.
Okay. “And they want to stay here?” I asked, even though it was a stupid question that I already knew the answer to. Every time his friends had come by in the past, they had always stayed with him.
Why would this time be any different?
Oh right, because I lived with him and stayed in the room that had always been used as a guest room.
And because we were legally technically married and had agreed to pull this charade off so neither one of us would get in trouble with the law.
Oh hell.
Realistically, it wasn’t the end of the world, and we could figure something out. We could. We would. It wasn’t a big deal. This was bound to happen at one point or another. “Okay. Do you… I can stay with my friend while they’re here if you want. You can pretend I went to visit someone.” Or maybe I could find a last minute getaway somewhere warm. It wouldn’t be the first time I’d gotten Diana to pretend to be sick so we could go somewhere.
Apparently, my comment irritated him. “This is your house too. I’m not asking you to leave because they’re coming. We knew this was going to happen. They want to see you too. It isn’t a big deal.”
Why did that seem to be his life’s motto when it was something that mostly only affected me? And why wasn’t I telling him that I’d met his friends in the past before and that it really wasn’t necessary for us to see each other now? It didn’t really matter if I was home or not, did it?
“I already told them you were going to be here,” he concluded.
There went my argument.
He scratched his jaw and my gaze stuck to the white-gold wedding band he’d started wearing right after Toronto. I wanted to ask him about it but I was too much of a coward to. “You’ll have to stay in my room,” he explained.
With him obviously. Where the hell else would I sleep? One of the guys usually took the bed and the other crashed out on the couch downstairs.
The problem wasn’t that I would just stay in his room.
The problem was that I would have to stay in his room with him, on his bed, was what he wasn’t telling him, but knew he was implying. It wasn’t like you could exactly hide a blow-up mattress, and I knew this diva sure as hell wasn’t going to sleep on the floor because neither was I.
It’s not a big deal, I told myself. It’ll just be like a sleepover. I’d done sleepovers a thousand times. Aiden and I were adults, sharing a bed didn’t mean anything. We’d already done it the night the lights went out. We’d done it again in Toronto when he surprised me. We would just be, literally, sleeping on opposite sides of a California king-sized bed. Doing it again shouldn’t cause me to lose any sleep over it.
Except for the small fact that I’d been carrying this love I felt for him around my neck since the book convention, and it had only gained weight each day we were together.
“Okay,” I found myself agreeing as my heart warned me I was asking for it. “That’s fine.”
He nodded. “Yeah, I know, Van. They’re coming the day after I get back. It’ll work out,” he assured me.
* * *
I heard the two loud, male voices before I saw them. Chris and Drew, the only friends Aiden had, other than Zac who had mostly become an acquaintance, and me, his sort-of-fake wife. Saving my work, I closed my laptop and grabbed my tablet with my free hand. I’d already taken everything else I would need for the next few days and moved it into the big guy’s room.
While Aiden wasn’t a clothes whore—his “fancy” wardrobe consisted of three suits, four dress shirts, two dress pants, and a black and brown belt—the rest of his closet was filled with boxes of trophies, shoes and other free clothing that hadn’t been opened, and it was packed. His dresser had the rest of the stuff he typically wore: sweat pants, workout shorts, enough T-shirts to clothe an entire basketball team, and tons of underwear and socks.
The point was, there wasn’t space for my clothes, so it didn’t seem like a stretch for us to say I kept my clothes in the other room if the guys opened my drawers and saw my things inside, which I doubted.
What did worry me was this façade we were going to try and pull off. Why had we agreed not to tell anyone else the truth? Couldn’t we have made some exceptions?
No. I knew we couldn’t. If you told one person something, they told another, and then that person told another, and finally, everyone found out. That’s why we’d both jumped into agreeing to keep it a secret as much as possible.
We could do this. We could play it off, I promised myself as I put my laptop and tablet on the desk in the office. I’d left my desktop computer in my room.
I crept down the stairs listening to… four male voices? I’d barely cleared the landing when I spotted Aiden standing in the living room, circled by three men nearly all in the general vicinity of his size, give or take twenty or thirty pounds. I recognized Chris’s close-cropped hair and Drew’s long, black dreadlocked hair, but it was the back of a blond head I wasn’t familiar with that caught my eye.
“Vanessa,” Aiden called my name. “Come here.”
I swerved my attention over to find him standing there with his hand extended in my direction. I hesitated maybe half a second, not long enough for his friends to turn around and notice, but long enough for Aiden to raise his hand an inch from where it was upturned. His face was so… expectant, so fucking expectant like he didn’t doubt I could play this off, that I realized how badly I needed to, how much my terrible-lying-ass was willing to do to make sure he was happy.
I walked forward and took his hand, steeling myself for this massive lie sitting on my soul.
“You know Drew and Chris,” Aiden said as he gestured toward the men in front of him. Drew was carrying Leo in his arm, letting the little guy go to town nibbling at one of his dreads.
Squeezing Aiden’s hand, I smiled at the two friends I’d met before and reached forward to shake their hands as the blond-headed man took a step forward out of the corner of my eye. “Vanessa?”
It took me a second to recognize the handsome blond-haired, green-eyed man standing in the living room. His hair was a lot shorter than it had been the last time I’d seen him more than six years ago. The fact he’d filled out even more and gotten older only made him look so much more different than the nineteen-year-old I used to know.
“Cain?” I took a step forward, grinning wide.
“No fucking way.” He blinked for a minute, shook his head, and grinned so wide I wasn’t paying attention when he cut the distance between us and hugged the hell out of me, pretty much crushing me against his chest for a moment before pulling back and shaking his head some more. “I can’t believe it.” He hugged me again. “What a small world.”
“I know.” I smiled, so shocked to see him I really couldn’t think of anything to say.
“I’m gonna guess you know each other,” Drew said.
I glanced at him and nodded, glancing back at Cain in surprise. “We went to school together.” Then the pieces all clicked together.
But Cain explained it anyway. “Before I transferred to Michigan, I was at Vandy.” Those green eyes flicked back in my direction as he smiled. “We had what? Three classes together?”