Faking Alec Read online

  “Sure, if that’s what you want,” I said.

  He nodded. “Thanks.”

  I found Mom and quickly told her we were retiring from butterfly-observing. She let us take the car when Aunt Rose offered to drive her back later.

  Alec was unusually stiff and quiet the entire walk back to the car.

  I jammed the key in the ignition. “Um, I know I’m not the best at talking about feelings, but are you okay? Like, actually okay, not just pretending to be?”

  I only saw the side of Alec’s profile since he was staring out the window with that same distracted expression. His normally handsome face seemed weary and tired.

  “I don’t know,” Alec admitted with a sigh. “I thought I’d be over it by now, but maybe that wasn’t realistic. Seeing him here just reminded me of everything at once. Like getting hit by a shitty memory truck.”

  I nodded, not sure of what to say. Conversations like this could be tricky, and I didn’t want to say the wrong thing and upset him further.

  Still, the question burning on my tongue begged to be asked. I decided to phrase it as a cautious statement to soften it.

  “I’m guessing it wasn’t a clean split,” I said.

  Alec chuckled. “Nope. Messy as it gets.”

  I winced. “Do you want to talk about it?”

  I heard the soft thud of Alec’s forehead leaning against the window. “Guess I should. You seem worried enough about me.”

  “Dude, I’ve never seen you so zoned out and flighty. Excuse me for being concerned.”

  Alec shot me a sympathetic look. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to freak you out. But yeah. It was classic. The textbook breakup from hell.” He sighed, leaning back against the seat. “I fell for him hard a few years ago. We met through work and hit it off immediately. He was so charming and funny.”

  Petty jealousy curled in the pit of my stomach, even though I had nothing to be envious of since I knew this story had an unhappy ending. Hell, Alec and I weren’t even in a real relationship.

  Cool it, Rowan.

  Alec went on. “We moved in together pretty fast after just a few months of dating, though it didn’t feel rushed at the time. I was excited to spend more time with him. I really thought he was the one, you know?”

  I grunted in reply. My opinion of Mark was plummeting by the second, and not all because of valid reasons. I remembered Tiffany and Mark kissing then put it side-by-side with the mental image of Alec and Mark. Fucking gag.

  He’s not even that good looking, I thought petulantly. The petty, selfish demon in my head wondered if that was Alec’s type. Tall, blond and pasty. I was pale, sure, but I failed the other two.

  “Almost immediately after we moved in together, he changed. He went from a funny, charismatic guy to someone I barely recognized,” Alec murmured. I frowned, hearing the sadness in his voice. “He got distant. Colder. It was only when he started coming home late and snapped back when I asked where he’d been that the gears started turning in my head.”

  I felt a cold pang of dread. “Oh, no.”

  He nodded, then hesitated. “He… he was cheating on me.”

  Alec said it with such finality that the car went silent for a few beats, like the weight of it was too heavy to bear. My heart broke for him. The injury was clearly still tender and raw, but Alec trusted me enough to bare his wounds.

  “I’m so sorry,” I murmured. “You didn’t deserve that.”

  Alec shrugged. It seemed like there was more he wanted to say, but maybe the words weren’t ready to come out. “I’m worried for Tiffany. I don’t him to do the same thing to her.”

  Anger flashed through me. My knuckles went white, my fingers tightening on the wheel. “Fuck. I didn’t even think of that.”

  If that bastard cheated on my cousin, he’d have more to worry about than choosing which color polo he wanted to wear for the day.

  “Maybe you can ask her in a gentle way. At least, more gently than I can,” Alec suggested.

  “Are you comfortable with me telling her your past?” I asked.

  Alec winced. “Maybe don’t mention me. I want her to know the truth, but I don’t want to make things awkward for her. I don’t know if she’d appreciate knowing that her fiancé’s ex was roaming around her wedding getaway.”

  I groaned. This was getting messy fast. “Okay. I’ll talk to her, but I won’t mention it has anything to do with you.”

  He nodded.

  Both of us just wanted Tiffany to be happy, I knew that, but the idea of potentially ruining my cousin’s relationship wasn’t something I was looking forward to. Not only that, but knowing unremarkable Mark was Alec’s ex made the whole thing worse. An ugly feeling stirred in my gut every time I thought about it.

  The dangerous words crossed my mind: What does he have that I don’t?

  I shuddered. The idea was too close to home, too close to the reality of my feelings—feelings I didn’t want but were creeping up on me anyway. Alec was untouchable. Off-limits. He was a stranger doing me a favor, and I had to stop acting like I had any claim over him.

  But thinking about him that way felt insincere. Alec wasn’t a stranger anymore. At the very least, we’d grown to be friends.

  And in my fantasies, we have benefits.

  Even though any romantic relationship between us was strictly a fantasy, was it really so wrong to think that I was better for Alec than his ex?

  12

  Alec

  After a quick dinner and a shower, I was wiped for the evening. Running into Mark unexpectedly had drained my energy and put me in a sour mood, although talking it out with Rowan helped. With the hair towel draped lazily over my shoulder, I slumped into the desk chair and plugged my camera into my laptop. Low-effort work was a welcome distraction.

  I pulled up the folder of photos I’d taken at the butterfly conservatory. My eyes wandered over to the ones of Rowan and got stuck there. I glanced up, making sure he was still in the shower before I pulled them up. Even though it was completely innocent, I felt like a teenager secretly watching porn.

  I blew up the photos in the editing software and for a moment, I just stared. Not at the butterflies, but at Rowan. God, he was gorgeous. The scene in the butterfly conservatory was magical, even in the photo, and once again I felt like a voyeur. My throat suddenly felt tight, my pulse a little quicker. I wanted to reach out and stroke the cheek of the man in the picture. My eyes trailed down his face to his jawline, clean except for the slight stubble only visible upon zooming in. They fell further down his neck, over the slope of his Adam’s apple, down to the pale skin of his collar before it got covered by his shirt.

  I shuddered. Not it wasn’t just my throat that was tight, but my pants, too.

  “Shit,” I muttered. I crossed my legs, trying to kill my budding erection. It would be awkward as hell for Rowan to stumble in on me with a boner, especially when it was because I was looking at pictures of him.

  The photos aren’t even sexual, for fuck’s sake. What is wrong with me?

  I chalked it up to stress-induced-horniness and leaned back in the chair with a harsh sigh. Maybe jerking off would clear my head, but I wasn’t going to risk it with Rowan about to exit the shower any moment. I needed a moment in the bathroom alone, preferably after he was already asleep.

  And I definitely was not going to think about him the entire time.

  Just then, the shower squeaked off. I sat straighter in my seat, forcing my boner to go away by sheer force of will. I scrambled for the remote and turned on some random TV channel just to have background noise.

  The bathroom door opened, and Rowan stepped out, followed by a backdrop of billowing steam. Dark hair was plastered to his forehead, and his pale face was flushed by the heat. I lamented the lack of towel around his waist when he emerged wearing a loose shirt and boxers.

  I swallowed the lump in my throat. Even though he was fully dressed, something about the casual way the shirt slipped off his shoulder and the view of his bare
creamy legs was strangely intimate.

  Or it’s not at all, and you’re just being a creep.

  I forced myself to avert my eyes. “Good shower?” I asked, then immediately wanted to smack myself. Who the hell says that?

  But the corner of Rowan’s lip twitched into an amused grin. “Pretty decent, yeah.” He slumped down on the bed and shook water droplets out of his hair. “What’ve you been up to? Working?”

  “Yeah. I was trying to get some done.”

  “Can I see?” he asked curiously.

  “Sure. Pull up a seat.”

  Rowan came up behind me. Instead of getting another chair, he put his hand on my shoulder and leaned on the back of my seat. I flushed at the sudden physical closeness.

  “Oh, wow,” Rowan murmured. “Alec, you took these?”

  My eyes snapped back to the monitor. I’d completely forgotten that I left the photos of Rowan blown up on the screen. I hadn’t meant for him to see, but at least he didn’t seem to think that I was sitting here staring at them and drooling the whole time he was in the shower.

  “Yeah,” I said.

  “They’re awesome. I mean…” Rowan leaned in, his chest brushing against my shoulder and neck. The warmth of his freshly showered body seeped into me like the heat of a fire. “Look how high def everything is.”

  “That’s the camera, not me,” I admitted. I cleared my throat. “You won’t find this quality on a phone camera. At least, not yet. Probably in the next couple of years smartphones will be three times the price and take better shots than my expensive professional camera.”

  Rowan smiled. “Yeah, but it’s not the camera that takes the photo. It’s the photographer.”

  “You’re right. Thanks for appreciating the man behind the action.”

  “Dude, of course. I’ve been a fan of yours for ages, remember? Seeing you actually in the middle of working your magic… It’s really cool.”

  I couldn’t help smiling at his genuine enthusiasm.

  “Show me another one,” Rowan said.

  “Okay.” I clicked through to the next shot, which was Rowan blanketed by butterflies. This was moments before Tiffany hurtled in and broke the magic.

  “Wow,” Rowan murmured, then paused. “This feels weird. That’s really me?”

  I chuckled. “No, I just found a really convincing stunt double who can also magically attract butterflies.”

  He rolled his eyes. “I’m just saying, it’s weird seeing myself in the photo.”

  “Why?” I asked. “You don’t like it?”

  He rubbed his arm. “No, it’s not that. I love your photo. It’s just… being the center of attention usually makes me uncomfortable.”

  I frowned. That was the last thing I wanted to do. “I’m sorry.”

  Rowan sighed, running a frustrated hand through his damp hair. “No, don’t be. Ugh, I can’t explain myself. What I’m trying to say is, I… I didn’t feel uncomfortable when you were photographing me?”

  Relief washed over me. “That’s good.”

  Rowan’s eyes flickered as if in thought. “Yeah. It’s weird. Usually when I’m one-on-one with someone, like we are now, I get really anxious. Like I’m put on the spot and there’s a light on me.”

  “Like you’re being interrogated?” I suggested.

  “Sort of. But the thing is, I don’t feel that way around you. At all.”

  My heart did a backflip. “Well, I’m glad you can be relaxed around me.”

  Rowan smiled and it shone in his eyes. “Me too.”

  Our gazes met for a fraction too long, and we both noticed it. We quickly averted our eyes.

  Nothing intimate happening here. Just two half-dressed guys standing close in a private hotel room and talking about feelings. Yup.

  Except my traitorous dick was getting hard again. I bit my tongue on purpose, hoping the sharp pain would distract my brain enough for me to go limp. But my brain and body apparently weren’t cooperating because my boner held steadfast. I painfully crossed my legs so Rowan wouldn’t see it.

  “Can I ask you something?” Rowan began.

  He was barely a foot away, sitting on the edge of the couch behind the desk. He seemed a bit distracted.

  “What’s up?” I said.

  Rowan hesitated. “Do you think we can still be friends after this is over?”

  “Oh.” I smiled. “Yeah, Rowan. Of course.”

  His eyes lit up. Probably not wanting to seem overly enthusiastic, he added, “Sorry if that’s creepy or something.”

  “Not creepy. I like you a lot.” As soon as the words left my mouth, I realized I’d said way too fucking much. I backpedaled and quickly added, “I’d definitely like to hang out after this.”

  “Cool.” He grinned. “Um, I guess it never occurred to me to ask before, but where exactly are you from? I’ve never seen you around until the day we met.”

  Shit. This nugget of truth wasn’t something I wanted Rowan to know, but I also didn’t want to lie to him, especially when he’d just revealed something vulnerable about himself.

  “I’ve sort of been drifting since Mark and I broke up,” I began slowly.

  “Drifting?”

  “Living place to place. Staying with people.”

  Rowan’s brow furrowed. “Were you homeless?”

  “No, no. I still own my place, but since the split with Mark months ago, it’s been hard for me to stay there,” I admitted. “Every inch of the house reminds me of him, so it’s easier just to avoid it.”

  “Oh,” Rowan said, his expression softening. “So, you stayed with friends?”

  I bit my lip. “Sort of.”

  I saw Rowan growing suspicious at my hesitation, but the truth was stuck in my throat like a pill.

  “I was staying with friends,” I said. “But also with hookups.”

  Rowan’s eyes were suddenly guarded. He shifted back in his seat. “Oh.”

  I knew it wasn’t any of his business, so why did I feel like it was? Why did I ache for his approval?

  “Does that bother you?” I asked.

  “No. It’s your life,” Rowan said simply.

  He was holding something back. I didn’t know what to think of his reaction. Rowan was just a friend, so he shouldn’t care what I did in my past, right?

  “Are you doing it now?” Rowan asked suddenly.

  “What?”

  “While you’re here for the trip, pretending to be my boyfriend,” Rowan said with a stiff shrug. “Not that I care, since it’s none of my business. I’m just wondering. There’s plenty of guys around.” With a note of bitterness, he added, “Maybe guys that are more your type.”

  More my type than who?

  I didn’t ask him to clarify that statement and instead held his gaze for a long moment. “No, I’m not seeing anyone. I don’t want to.”

  “You can, you know. I don’t care what you do,” Rowan said, but it sounded he did care. It was a challenge. A dare.

  Is he testing me? And if so, why?

  I shook my head. “It would cause a huge scene if Kaitlyn or anyone else in your family saw me with some other guy. And besides, I don’t have any interest in hooking up with strangers while I’m doing you a favor. Don’t worry about it.”

  Rowan stood and went to the bed. “If you say so.”

  After Rowan made it abundantly clear we were done talking for the night, I closed my laptop and settled on the couch. But sleep wouldn’t come easily. I felt riled up and uneasy, like we were a couple having a fight.

  But we weren’t a couple.

  Still, I didn’t like the ugly feeling in my stomach. Despite knowing I hadn’t done anything wrong, I vowed to patch things up with Rowan in the morning, even if it meant swallowing my pride to do it.

  13

  Rowan

  I was jealous.

  Should I have been? No. I had no good reason to be jealous. The hookups Alec told me about were in the past, and he promised he wasn’t seeing anyone now—and I believe
d him. Hell, even if he was going out every night and having sex, it wasn’t any of my business. All he owed me was showing up and pretending to be my boyfriend so my family would get off my case. That was it.

  So, what the fuck was I upset about?

  I left the hotel room early so I wouldn’t accidentally snap at Alec when he woke up. I knew I’d upset him last night. In the moment, I could feel myself doing it, but I couldn’t stop. The dam of envy broke and it refused my efforts to plug it back up.

  I sat at an empty table in the dining hall, fiddling with the edge of the white linen cloth and picking listlessly at my continental breakfast. I hadn’t checked the itinerary, but I knew any events wouldn’t start before 10 AM, especially if Tiffany was drinking every night.

  When I remembered Tiffany, dreadful anticipation hit me. I swallowed a groan. I still hadn’t talked to her about the Mark situation. My appetite instantly dried up. The dry scrambled eggs in front of me might as well have been sawdust.

  How was I supposed to tell my cousin that her groom-to-be was a dirty cheater? There was a chance he’d changed, sure, but would she be willing to take that gamble? And would she even believe me when I told her?

  I bit my lip, thinking about how it was Alec’s word against Mark’s—and I wouldn’t even be able to tell Tiffany that it was Alec’s word. The more I thought about it, the greater a beast it became. The idea of it felt like scaling a wall with my bare hands. Yeah, Tiff, so it turns out your fiancé’s a cheat, and no, I can’t tell you why I know this. Just trust me.

  I banged my head against the table.

  My phone vibrated, making me stir. It was from Mom reminding me to meet her by the car in an hour for the day’s event, which was apparently a trip to the aquarium.

  I snorted. Of course Tiffany would plan some batshit activities that had nothing to do with weddings. At least it was interesting.

  “Rowan?”

  I sat up at the sound of Alec’s voice. My initial excitement wavered when I remembered our near-argument last night. “Hey.”