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Two is a Lie(22)

By:Pam Godwin


Cole suggested I keep his connection to Trace a secret. It opens too many questions that would raise suspicion. Since Bree thinks he and Trace just met, she has no idea how deep the heartache goes. Whoever I don’t choose doesn’t just lose his fiancé. He loses his best friend, too.

Trace releases the towel at his waist and drops it to the floor. My nostrils widen with a sharp breath, my gaze sliding over the hard flanks of his backside. He’s ridiculously, beautifully sculpted, with layers of lean muscle, a high tight ass, and long legs, all enwrapped in taut flawless skin.

He glances over his shoulder at me, and whatever he sees on my face makes him smirk. Without looking away, he slowly, methodically, pulls on a pair of black boxer briefs, followed by charcoal slacks, letting both hang low on his butt without zipping up.

“Tease,” I mouth.

His smirk transforms into a full-fledged grin that cartwheels across the space between us and hits me square in the chest. His smiles are so rare that when he gifts me one, I hold it tight to my heart.

“Do you want me to come over?” Bree asks. “Angel has a soccer game in a couple hours, but I’m free until then.”

“No, they’re both here, and I need to hash things out with them.”

Trace loses his grin and turns back to the rack of clothes.

“This is crazy.” Bree exhales. “Do you have a plan?”

“Do I ever?”

“No, but surely you have some idea of what you’re going to do.”

Trace emerges from the closet, tucking a white button-up into the open fly of his slacks. I have a fascination with watching him put himself together. His meticulous movements, attention to detail, the way his hands move confidently over his body—it’s as if every action is intended to seduce. He’s too damn sexy for his own good.

He finishes dressing and approaches the bed, with a curious glint in his eyes. His blond hair brushes his brow, not yet tamed for the day. Stubble dusts his jaw, waiting to be shaved. Yet he looks like he’s ready to take on the world, prowling toward me in that effortless way he moves, his suit molding to every delicious inch of his frame.

“Hang on a minute,” I say to Bree and mute the phone.

He places a knee on the mattress and leans over me to graze his lips against my cheek. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” My veins flood with warmth as I recall something he said the day Cole returned.

You’re all that I am, and the moment I accepted that, protecting you was no longer a favor or a job. It became a prerogative.

“When did you know you loved me?” I run a hand through the corn-silk strands of his hair.

He slants into my touch and sighs. “The first time I saw you at Bissara—”

“When you went there to check up on me.”

“To watch over you and keep you safe.” He turns his head and kisses my wrist. “I walked in and saw you dancing. I haven’t caught my breath since.”

My heart skips, knocking the wind from my lungs.

“When did you know you loved me?” His blue eyes bore into mine.

“When you gave me the concert ticket for Beyoncé.” I grin.

His expression falls, and he nods stiffly. “That’s the night you saw me with that woman on my lap.” A tic bounces in his jaw. “It was all for show. You know that, right?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m so sorry. Despite what I said that morning in your basement, I never wanted to hurt you. I made so many foolish attempts—”

“I understand why you did it.” I trail my fingers along the honed lines of his face and shift back, glancing at my phone. “I need to finish this call with Bree. I’ll be out in a minute, okay?”

Dense lashes fringe pale blue eyes that roam over my features, as if absorbing every detail to memory.

“Take all the time you need.” He rises from the bed, straightens his collar, and leaves the room, shutting the door behind him.

With a heavy exhale, I un-mute the phone. “I’m back.”

“You need to date both of them,” Bree bursts out, loud and rushed, as if the words were burning her lips for weeks rather than the thirty seconds I had her on hold. “Two men. Lots of sex. That’s an order.”

“I’m not doing that.” I press the heel of my hand against my chest and whisper, “It’s selfish.”

“You know what? Fuck that. For once in your life, you’re going to put yourself first. Jesus, Danni, you give and give until you have nothing left. You love with all your heart, and you never ask anything from anyone. You don’t even know the meaning of selfish.”

The shower shuts off in the next room, reminding me how thin the walls are.