The Pretend Boyfriend novel Chapter 62

She watches Delilah's face surreptitiously when she says this.

After a while, Delilah nods. "I knew of someone like that once."

"Did you date him?"

Delilah ponders this for a while, and then she nods. "He was an amazing lover. Handsome like the devil himself." Her eyes wear a faraway look. "He made me feel ... like ... he really cared about me."

Sam's gut does an about turn. She can feel the undercurrents gathering, together with a sinister undertow that threatens to drag at her kicking feet. She has no idea if Delilah is talking about Brian, but she has to press on.

"What happened?"

"He had this way of capturing your eyes when he was making love to you. Like you were the only one for him, even when he wasn't saying the words."

Sam thinks of Brian's melting brown eyes. She has felt that way many times.

"And the things he did to your body," Delilah goes on, that misty look even more evident, "I have never come so much with a man before, you know? Never had and never will."

Sam says tentatively, "Was it just all sex?"

She knows she wonders about that with Brian when it comes to herself. The fact he stuck around with her. Is it all just sex? Or something more? Even now, when he's monogamous with her, she finds herself wondering. Brian would never come right out and say stuff. It is all a guess with him. Will he? Won't he? Does he?

Christ.

Delilah's expression changes, and suddenly, Sam experiences a pang for what the other woman must have gone through. She herself is the recipient of such a maddening and yet enthralling relationship. She knows well the heartaches and agonies and sublime happiness and rollercoaster emotions that go with it.

"No," Delilah declares. "It wasn't just all sex. There was always more."

The impression of more. Sam understands this well.

"When did you have this relationship? College?"

Delilah gets up. There's an abrupt shift in her mood now. Just moments ago, she has been pensive and almost reachable. Now she sort of closes up on herself - a clam that is teasing you with some new insight, and then snaps the lid of its shell before you can catch a glimpse.

"I have to go to the restroom. You want to join me?"

Still shaken, Sam manages a smile. "If I did, the waitress might think we were both trying to squiggle ourselves out of paying."

"She may be right." Delilah indicates her large tote bag. "Just watch out for it, will you?"

She heads in the direction of the restroom.

Two weeks from now, Sam would be looking back at this moment and wondering if it all had been too easy. Too suspiciously fucking easy.

Because she came here tonight armed with several plans. She hadn't been sure Plan A - getting Delilah to invite her back to her apartment off the bat - would work. In fact, she was ninety-nine percent sure she wouldn't get a peek in this early. And the clock was ticking on the trial deadline.

As soon as Delilah is safely out of sight, Sam delves into Plan B. Which is the precursor to Plan C, which she hopes she might not ever have to use.