I pick up the phone and read the text. I click the link to the website and my heart falls into my stomach when I read the article.

My face must go ashen.

“Are you okay?” Sawyer asks.

I shake my head. I’m not sure what I thought would happen, but I didn’t think it would be this.

I give him my phone and let him read the screen.

He looks up at me and laughs. “You have a brother named Denver?”

“My parents were big fans of skiing. And Colorado.”

“Were?” he says.

I nod.

“I guess I don’t know very much about you,” he says.

I point to my phone. “Looks like you’re about to find out.”

He reads silently, scrolling down the page to get to the full story. “Shit. He’s going to prison?”

“Not if I pay off his debts.”

Sawyer puts down the phone and narrows his eyes at me. “So this isn’t about Juilliard after all, is it? Why is it up to you to pay off his debts? Especially when the article says he stole money from you.”

“He didn’t steal money, Sawyer. He was duped. He thought he was investing it into a sure thing. He had the papers and the statistics. Everything seemed legit. He had no idea this was a Ponzi scheme. It was some higher-ups in the police department where he worked that got him into it. Now they have all his money, all my money, and all the money of a dozen other people in some off-shore account where it can’t be traced or touched. And Denver took the fall for everything because he can’t prove the others were involved.”

“Damn. That’s some tough luck. How much does he have to pay back?”

“Almost as much as you’re paying me.”

He picks at the tablecloth. “So, nothing will be left for Juilliard?”

I shrug. “There’s always student loans.”

“Fuck.”

“It’s fine. I’m not sure I want to go there anyway. I don’t even like New York all that much. There is a good grad school back in Missouri that I’ve been considering.”

“Missouri?” A look of disgust crosses his face. “But you have to be here. At least through October.”

“I guess I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it. I’ve been accepted at both places.”

“You’ve been accepted at the school in Missouri? But you have to turn them down. You can’t leave until the season is over.”

I sigh. “I know. I’ll turn them down. I guess I just miss Denver. We’ve always been close. I don’t want you thinking bad things about him. He’s a great guy who was just too naïve to be a cop.”

“What do you care what I think of him?”

“Because he’s the most important person in my life.”

“I thought that was Bass,” he says.

“Bass is right up there. But Denver is family.”

“How much older is he?”

“About three minutes,” I say.

“You’re twins?”

I nod. “And I love him more than anything. We have a bond nobody seems to understand.”

“I don’t have any brothers or sisters,” he says. “But that’s a good thing.”

I can’t imagine growing up without a sibling. “Why is that a good thing?”

He shakes his head. “It just is. Now why don’t you eat your dinner and tell me about your family.”

I finish a slice of pizza in silence, contemplating what to tell him. He obviously has secrets of his own. Then again, my only secret was just plastered across the internet. He knows the worst thing about me, or about my brother anyway. What could it hurt to tell him about my family?

“My mom was a district court judge and my dad was a CFO for a mid-sized construction company. They both died in a car accident four years ago.”

“I’m sorry. My parents are both dead, too.”

“But at least I have Denver. You don’t have any siblings. That must have been really hard on you.”

“My mom dying was hard on me,” he says. “My dad, not so much.”

“Didn’t get along with him?” I ask.

“That’s an understatement.”

“Well, my family was very close. It was devastating. I was a freshman at Juilliard and Denver was still trying to figure out what to do after high school. He was working odd jobs to afford his own apartment. My parents were taking their first ever vacation without us. A celebration of their freedom, I guess. They went skiing, of course. But they never made it to the ski lodge. Their rental car skidded off the road in the snow. They weren’t found for days. I like to pretend they died instantly, but I heard some of the doctors talking and they said they were trapped in the car and probably died of exposure, not injuries. I don’t imagine they died at the same time and it must have been horrible for one of them to watch the other go.”

“Maybe they both died in their sleep,” he says. “In the movies, everyone falls asleep in the cold and then they just don’t wake up. Maybe they fell asleep together, in each other’s arms.”

My lips curve up in a half-smile. Maybe Sawyer Mills does have a romantic bone in his body after all. “I hope that’s what happened. But knowing how much my dad loved my mom, I can’t imagine he would have let them fall asleep. He would have done anything to keep her alive. Anything.”

“Yeah, my dad loved my mom a lot, too. Maybe too much.”

“How can you love someone too much?” I ask.

He shrugs and picks at his pizza. “So, your parents must have left you pretty well off if you could keep going to school at such a prestigious place.”

“They did. They were good like that. And luckily, I’d paid off all my tuition before I let Denver invest the rest.”

“How much did he lose?”

“Of mine? A few hundred thousand. Even more of his own.”

“He invested his own money?”

“Yeah, you’d think that would prove he wasn’t a criminal, but the prosecution didn’t buy it. They said he was willing to risk his own money to make so much more.”

“What is he doing now? To get by?”

“He’s taking whatever jobs he can get. But few people will hire someone with a felony record. So he usually ends up working jobs under the table, which only last for days or weeks at a time and don’t pay that well.”

“That sucks. How old is he?” Then his head falls back and he looks at the ceiling. “Oh, shit. You said that night we first met that you were almost twenty-three. That means he was too. And it also means I missed your birthday, doesn’t it?”

“It was Thursday.”

“Thursday? Why didn’t you say anything?”

I lean in so nobody can overhear. “Because I’m not your girlfriend and you have no obligation to take me out for my birthday, that’s why.”

He shakes his head. “Still, you should have said something.” He lifts his glass. “To the birthday girl. Now let’s drink to you and then I’m going to give you a birthday kiss. And this one’s going to be just like the one at the club last week. Do you remember that?”

Remember it? I relive that kiss over and over in my dreams. I relive that kiss and more. In my dreams he’s in my bed. In my dreams, he brings me to orgasm every which way possible. In my dreams he’s the man I never knew I wanted but would do anything to have. And they just seem so damn real.

“No,” I lie. “But I imagine you’ll show me.”

I take a long drink, eyeing him from over the rim of my glass, seducing him with my eyes for the many onlookers. My panties become damp with the anticipation of what his lips are about to do to me. My mind knows this is all a game, but my body doesn’t seem to care.

He puts down our drinks, places a hand behind my neck, and pulls me to him. His eyes lock with mine until our lips meet. His tongue begs for entrance into my mouth and I taste the strong flavor of his wheat beer. One of his hands works the nape of my neck, the other falls to my lap and caresses my thigh. I’m lost in his kiss. In his touch. If this is acting, I’m afraid to know what his real kisses would feel like.

I immediately pull back when I realize his kisses are just like that first one he gave me the day we met. Or at least I think they are. That whole night is a bit fuzzy.

“What is it?” he asks.

“The night we met, when you kissed me in the alley, was that a real kiss, or were you just pretending, like now?”

“I wasn’t pretending. I didn’t know then that I was going to ask you for this arrangement. Why?”

I try not to smile when I think that maybe he isn’t acting after all. No way could a man be this good a kisser if he’s kissing someone he doesn’t want to be kissing. He wants me. He wants me just like I want him.

The problem is – neither of us wants to admit it. Or maybe the problem is neither of us feels we can.

“Just wondering,” I say.

“Well, if you’re done wondering, can we get on with the show?”

This time, I’m the one who reaches out and pulls him to me. I might as well have some fun as long as I’m stuck in this situation. I’m going to see how far I can take this and how long he can resist before he admits to having real feelings for his fake girlfriend.

“Next time, don’t start eating until your date comes back to the table,” I whisper into his mouth, right before my lips reach his.

He tries to reply, but my tongue enters his mouth and I devour him like I’ve never done before. My body screams to be closer to his, but sitting next to him makes it impossible, so I just put my hands on his arms and feel the muscles of his biceps.

A slow growl emerges from his throat, letting me know he’s getting into this more than he’d like me to think he is. It’s hard to smile and kiss at the same time, but I pull it off. I pull it off until someone clears their throat behind us.