The Pretend Girlfriend (A Billionaire Love Story #1)(73)

Gwen's body buzzed in the afterglow, and no more how deeply she breathed, she couldn't seem to catch her breath for several minutes. At first, she thought she must be in shocked disbelief. But it had happened. She could tell by the pleasant, satisfied ache starting low in her stomach and going deeper every moment, and from Aiden's arm draped over her.

In essence, everything felt right with the world. She could tell that no matter what happened to them, they could get through it. They had to strength to weather anything.

Everything was laid bare, physically and emotionally. Gwen even felt the stirrings of desire again when she let her fingers trace up Aiden's arm to squeeze his bicep.

Gwen smiled in the darkness of Aiden's bedroom. This also meant that he could no longer deny his true feelings for her. No more of that nonsense with that silly contract. With that out of the way, maybe they could move on.

But thoughts of the contract led Gwen to the unpleasant recollection of telling Beatrice about it, and then not telling Aiden straight away. Uneasiness flooding into her, getting rid of that lovely afterglow, she glanced at him. Aiden lay on his side, watching her quietly.

"What are you thinking?" he asked. He cupped her breast gently and nuzzled her neck, and Gwen thought that maybe he felt the stirrings of renewed desire, too. She wanted to just fall into that, into him, but knew that she needed to get this off her chest.

It's okay, she told herself. You can do it. You can get through it. You both can.

She took a deep, calming breath, and tried not to think about what his hand was currently doing. "There's something I need to tell you."


"You're actually already married and we can only be lovers?" Aiden supplied.

Why was he making this so difficult? "No... It's about the contract."

Aiden's hand stopped doing that pleasant, wonderful thing, "What about it? Why bring that up now? Just forget about it; it doesn't matter anymore. Not to me."

That seemed like a good out. But Gwen valued the honesty they'd been trying to cultivate with each other, and she knew that this would just hang over her head as long as they stayed together.

"It's just that... That I..." Gwen said, her throat starting to close up, not wanting the words to escape. But they needed to come out.

"What? Just tell me," Aiden said, pulling a few strands of hair away from her neck so that he could kiss her again.

"I told Beatrice about it... I didn't mean to; I'd had a few drinks, and she was making me angry..."

Aiden stopped breathing behind her, his whole body still. She wanted him to say something, anything. This silence was worse than anger.

"Will she tell anyone?"

"I don't know... I don't think so," Gwen said, remembering the final few words she and Beatrice had exchanged at the bar.

"But you can't be certain?"

"No," Gwen replied.

Aiden rolled over onto his back, putting his hand behind his head. They weren't touching, and Gwen suddenly felt cold without the heat of his body pressed against her.

"I'm sorry," Gwen said. The last vestiges of that afterglow vanished, replaced by a twisting, awful feeling in her stomach. She'd needed to tell him about that, but she didn't know what to make of his reaction. Was he mad?

"We're going to have to hope that she won't," Aiden said.





Chapter 23


Closing the door to her apartment behind her, Gwen leaned against it. She buried her face in her hands, pulling her fingers down her cheeks.

On one hand, things had gone extremely well. Shockingly so, even. Aiden had seduced her. Or had she seduced him? Maybe it was mutual. In any case, it really happened. The aches now flaring up around her body attested to that.

But then I had to open my big mouth, Gwen thought. At one point last night, Gwen thought that Aiden might actually ask her to leave. He'd been somewhat cold the rest of the night. Cold and withdrawn.

Though she did have some pleasant memories of spooning during the night, waking up in his bed and realizing that yes, Aiden really was asleep next to her. Getting to sleep proved to be somewhat difficult, as she felt terrified that she might snore. Or whisper more secrets into the darkness.

When she woke up, she'd climbed out of bed as quietly as she could and snuck out of his condo.

And now here she was, wearing the same wrinkled dress from yesterday.

She went into the kitchen, squinting when she turned on the light. A few dirty dishes cluttered the counter, and the place smelled vaguely of the half-empty bottle of lavender dish soap which sat beside the tap.

Throwing a slice of bread into the toaster, she wished for the hundredth time that she'd just kept the truth to herself for a little bit longer. Aiden knew how to cook, he'd said. What sort of breakfast might he have made? Pancakes, Gwen bet. Nice fluffy, buttery pancakes.

The bread began toasting, filling the kitchen with what Gwen now considered a lackluster aroma. Lackluster compared to the gourmet pancakes that she was sure she was missing out on.

Peanut butter toast in hand, she went to her room. More unpleasant sights greeted her there, from the pile of unopened, unstudied books, to her laptop and the incomplete essay, the messy bed, the pile of clothes...

Sighing, she sat at her desk and took out her phone. Should I try giving B another call? Gwen wondered. This was exactly the type of thing she'd want to talk about with her friend. But she doubted that B wanted to talk with her, yet.