Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 97574 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 488(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97574 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 488(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
I haven't.
I haven't tried. Not since I broached the idea with Rory. Since she looked at me like I was a monster.
"I haven't asked if they'd enjoy rope. Or orders. Or pain," I say.
Her blush deepens. "And your fiancée?"
"Ex-fiancée."
"Did she share your tastes?"
"What does that matter?"
"I'm curious."
"I'm not asking you to fuck me, Indigo."
"We're going to get married and never have sex?" She picks up her wineglass. Takes a long sip. "Really?"
"I'm not paying for sex."
"You don't want to fuck me?" she asks.
"Of course, I want to fuck you. But that's not why I'm here."
"You're here because of your reputation," she says. "Really? That's all of it?"
"Enough of it."
She stares back at me, not quite believing me.
It's not the whole story, but it's all I can give her right now. "You're here, Indigo."
"I am."
"So give me a number. Tell me what it will take. What, exactly, do you want?"
Chapter Seven
Indigo
What will it take?
What, exactly, do you want?
It's not something I consider often.
Immediate needs take up too much space.
Rent, food, safety.
Sometimes, I have time for tiny pleasures. A warm drink on a cold day. A night dancing after a stressful shift. Watching Sienna score a winning goal after a week of losing.
That's what I want. I want my sister to be okay.
But Ty is already covering her tuition. What else could I possibly desire?
What do I daydream about during subway rides and slow shifts at work?
A week in the Caribbean. A trip to Vegas for Sienna's twenty-first. A rich, handsome customer who wants to erase all my problems.
Ty.
Whispering in my ears, spilling his secrets, promising me forever.
This is it.
He's right here. Not only promising me forever but offering cash for it.
A dream come true.
Except for the tiny matter of it being bullshit.
"What are you asking, exactly?" I fold my hands in my lap. Try to hold his gaze.
His dark eyes are as intense as ever.
He still reads me like a book.
Knows exactly which button to press to make me laugh, groan, scream.
Knows he has the power to destroy me.
"I'd like to get married this summer," he says. "But I'm negotiable. As long as we announce our engagement right away."
"It's May."
"I'm aware."
"You were photographed with another woman two months ago."
"I'm aware of that as well."
"People will think this is a shotgun wedding," I say.
"Not if we sell it." His eyes bore into mine. "They'll believe we reconnected."
So that's why he asked me. Because we have a history. One that suits his story.
It makes sense, logically, but it's missing something. Some other detail I can't see.
I try to find the truth in his expression, but I can't. "We'll sell it?"
"Yes."
"How?"
"Photographs. Dinners. Parties."
"You throw parties?" I ask.
He chuckles. "Not usually."
"But your birthday is next month."
His eyes light up. He's surprised I remembered. Or excited.
I'm not sure.
"And this is for your reputation?" I ask.
He nods.
"So can we tell friends and family the truth?"
"No." The delight drains from his expression. "They need to believe it."
"Even your brother?"
His eyes flit to the table. "He wouldn't approve."
I don't know a lot about Ty's brother, but I know he's obsessed with honesty.
Usually, Ty is the same. This isn't like him.
But maybe I don't know him. It has been three years.
"Your friends?" I ask.
"Everyone," he says.
Okay. Everyone. I guess that's clear enough, but-- "I'm not sure I can lie to Sienna. I don't know if I can agree to that."
"It's a deal breaker?"
"If it is?"
"Will you try?"
I swallow hard. I don't like the idea of deceiving my sister. But she wouldn't approve either. And I don't want to put this on her.
I don't want her to feel responsible.
This is my choice.
Even if it's for her, it's my choice.
"I can try," I say. "But I can't promise results."
He nods. "Fair."
Maybe. "And these photographers, dinners, parties—how will we convince people it's real?"
"We'll look madly in love."
"What if I can't sell it?"
"You can."
And what if the line blurs? If I fall in love with him? "But really, we're…"
"Are you still claiming you won't fuck me?"
My chest warms. "Not for money."
"Friends. Maybe friends who fuck. If that's what you decide."
Fuck. Yes. Now. Please. "Only friends?”
"I don't want to hurt you, Indie. I care about you. I'll always care about you. But love is done with me."
"You want me to convince the world I'm in love with you, even though you'll never love me, but you don't want to hurt me. Really?"
"Yes." He picks up his glass. Takes a long sip of wine. Considers something. "Maybe it's not possible, but it's what I'm asking."
Okay.
It's what he's asking.
And, for some reason he won't disclose, he's asking me.
"For how long?" I ask.
"Forever." He takes another sip. Sets his glass on the table. "Isn't that how long marriage is supposed to last?"
"It's supposed to be two people in love."
His eyes stay on his glass. "How much do you want?"