The Pretend Boyfriend novel Chapter 84

She straightens her mouth and says, "Why not?"

Delilah Faulkner gazes at the sleeping Brian. There is a slow churn of emotions in her head every time she thinks of him, which is extremely often in the last few years.

She has run the gamut from blinding rage - rage so potent that it has eaten her from inside out, so much so that she had to seek therapy for it - to curious bliss. Like right now. So much of what she has become is the direct result of what this man did to her. Until she doesn't even remember the way she used to be anymore.

This man.

And what a man he is. A pang of envy stabs her heart when she thinks of Samantha Fox. What does he see in that woman? She will never know. And here he is, 'sacrificing' himself for that perky brunette's sake. There's that, and also the pervading guilt that he 'owes' her, Adele Jankovic, something major. Which of course he does.

The fact that Brian is here is a new development. She has never thought it would come to this. But it is a very welcome development.

She studies his immobile form.

God, but he's so beautiful. Too bad his eyes are shut now because they are his most beautiful feature. But when they are open, she doesn't like the look in them when he gazes upon her. More often than not, they have been filled with reproach and regret. She even catches him glancing sidelong at her with a funny look on his face. But when she faces him head on, he turns away quickly.

He hasn't changed all that much from college. Not really. But then, it hasn't been that long. His face is still unlined and smooth. His lips curved and sensuous. His jaw strong and firm. She can trace the outlines of that face and the graceful curvature of his neck forever.

She leans closer and breathes in the scent of him. He smells of sweat and soap and water. She takes in his slowly moving chest. If she lays her ear upon his heart, she knows she will hear its steady, insistent beat. But she doesn't want to wake him up. He looks too peaceful this way.

Of course, a lot of his turmoil when he is awake has to do with her. She allows herself a small smile of satisfaction. Then the corners of her mouth droop. There was a time she would have done anything for him. But now, she is on the precipice of either wanting to destroy him or preserve him forever - like a butterfly pinned in her private collection.

Like one of his surreptitious photos, tacked up on her corkboard in her room of secrets.

But everything did have a silver lining. Because something snapped in her somewhere along the line. Something that reinforced in her the will to survive - the iron will to make something of herself so that she would show him. So she worked hard and studied and graduated ... finally. Got herself a good job and fucking excelled in it. Then saved up enough to reinvent herself literally from head to toe.

That way, she was casting aside that old mold of herself. Embracing a shiny, new version. A stronger, more robotic model without the old insecurities and frailties that almost led her to end her life.

It worked.

So far.

But some part of her cannot maintain this cruel clinical detachment. She still feels something stirring for this impossibly gorgeous man, sleeping like an innocent babe in the woods.