Endeared (The Accidental Billionaires #5) - J. S. Scott Page 0,45

sensed that he knew I was talking about a guy, but he didn’t seem to care.

I’d suspected that he wasn’t really interested in meeting the woman of his dreams online, but he was always so willing to help or just listen to me.

He had no idea what I looked like, and he only had my approximate age. I guess we’d never really thought about exchanging pictures because neither one of us cared what the other one looked like.

Me: Have you ever even thought about telling anyone?

Dark: Never. I’m not exactly a trusting soul, Dreamer. Or maybe I’m just an asshole.

He wasn’t. I could sense it.

Me: You’re not. I like you, and I’m not exactly fond of assholes. You’ve always been nice to me.

Dark: You’ve only seen the cyber side of me. I think we both know this isn’t real life.

Me: I don’t care. Until you act like an asshole, you’re going to be a friend.

Dark: I think I’ll take you up on the friendship offer, and try hard not to disappoint you.

Me: You haven’t yet. Thanks for listening.

Dark: I’ll always be around if you need anything. If you want to talk to me, I’m only a message away.

It sounded like he was backing away, but that was okay. Technically, I was fake dating Owen. So maybe it was better that way.

Me: I’ll be here if you ever want to talk, too. Night, Dark.

Dark: Sleep well, Dreamer.

I waited for one of his cocky sign-offs, but it never came, so I finally dropped my cell onto the bedside table and turned off the light.

There was some comfort in knowing that Dark would answer me if I ever really needed to chat. It had been a while since I could really talk to somebody who had been willing to accept me, skeletons and all. Honestly, he was probably the only friend who ever had.

Okay, maybe Owen would, too. If only I could take Dark’s advice and shed some light on the darkness of my past, but I didn’t see that happening anytime soon.

CHAPTER 15

OWEN

Everything changed for Layla and me after that outrageously passionate kiss.

Three weeks later, I was still waiting for her to talk, but the woman had a pretty solid zipper on her mouth when it came to talking about anything really personal.

I didn’t like the way she’d clammed up on me, but I didn’t want her to shut me off completely. So I’d just dealt with the friendship relationship, hoping she’d eventually trust me enough to talk about her past.

I hadn’t kissed her again during the last few weeks. Okay, maybe I had snuck in a few random touches, a hand on her back to guide her into a restaurant, or holding her hand when I could get away with doing it. Unfortunately, those things had been more like torture than a relief, but it was impossible for me to be with Layla and not try to find some kind of connection.

The damn obsession my older brothers had warned me about was hitting me full force now, and I was about to lose my mind.

Somehow, things needed to change between Layla and me, and I couldn’t take much more of the whole polite, superficial, bullshit discussions between the two of us.

Layla and I were meant to be together. Period. No question about it.

It had just taken forever for me to see that with as much startling clarity as I did now.

I put a pod into my coffeemaker and slammed the lid down, watching the machine slowly fill the ceramic cup as I fervently hoped that the night I had arranged would lead to some kind of understanding.

Paris was completely planned, and the trip wasn’t very far away. If I couldn’t get her to talk to me, I knew in my gut that I’d end up losing the entire battle once that excursion was over.

To give her credit, she’d stubbornly stuck with her plan to finish everything on my list, whether she wanted to be with me . . . or not.

Layla never broke a promise, and she hadn’t this time, either.

I’d behaved myself.

And she’d kept right on diligently checking things off the list.

I pulled the full coffee mug from the machine, smiling at the memory of the day Layla had talked me into buying it.

“Wouldn’t it be nice to try something different every day?” she’d cajoled.

I’d never really thought about it before. I liked coffee. Period. I’d been fine with my regular coffeemaker.

But since she’d suggested it, I’d readily handed the