Don’t Pretend I’m Yours Read Online Natasha Anders

Categories Genre: Angst, Contemporary Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 108173 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 541(@200wpm)___ 433(@250wpm)___ 361(@300wpm)
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“You look like hell,” she said, always honest to a fault. He looked up from where he’d been fussing over Fifi and gave Lilah a wry once-over.

“You’re one to talk.”

“Rude.”

“I’m not the one still in my fleecy pajamas at twelve-thirty in the afternoon.”

“It’s Saturday, and it’s raining, so I’m the sane one here. This is the only way to spend a wet weekend. Besides, I wasn’t expecting company.”

“Don’t you usually see your friends on a Saturday?”

“Friends?” she asked with a quizzical tilt of her head. “What friends?”

“Don’t make me say it,” he said, grimacing.

She continued to stare at him in wide-eyed innocence.

“Say what?” She shouldn’t be enjoying this exchange so much.

She was angry with him. She hated him. And yet… she’d missed cranky, straitlaced Ben so damned much. Turned out it wasn’t very easy to oust someone who’d been a part of your life for the better part of fifteen years.

“Your… your hoes, okay?” he relented, and she chuckled.

“We cancelled today,” she told him. “Some of the other girls weren’t feeling too well. Seasonal colds and flus maybe.”

That was a lie… the others were meeting today, but Lilah had cried off. Pleading exhaustion. Which was technically true. Exhaustion and nausea.

“So, you kept the dog,” she said, eager to change the subject. His eyes tracked to his dog, who was still delicately chewing her biscuit.

“Of course I did. I made a commitment. She’s mine now.” Something in that simple possessive mine sent Lilah’s nerve endings tingling, and she swallowed in an effort to lubricate her suddenly dry throat.

“And you—uh—” she coughed, stumbling over her tongue. What the hell was wrong with her? “You like having a dog?”

“I’ve never had a pet before and I lucked out with Fifi”—the dog’s head lifted at the sound of her name and Ben grinned affectionately—“she’s an extremely clever girl. She knows all the basic commands, doesn’t mess in the house, is eager to learn and to please.”

“The perfect woman,” Lilah quipped, unable to keep the note of cynicism out of her voice.

“Not quite,” he said, his voice dropping to a low rasp. “The perfect woman is five-ten, with honey-streaked brown hair, amber eyes, a killer smile, and a generous heart.”

She stared at him mutely, unsure what to say in response to that… he didn’t seem to need a response. He gave Fifi one last pat on the head and jumped up agilely. He passed Lilah on his way to the kitchen and his subtle woodsy aftershave left a scent trail that nearly grabbed her by the nostrils and dragged her behind him like lovesick puppy. She actually dug her fingers into the couch’s armrest to stop herself from getting up and following behind him.

God, sharing this house with him was going to be damned near impossible if this was her reaction after just half an hour in his company. She needed time to gather herself, to strengthen her resolve and reconcile herself to the idea that he was going to be around for the next few days.

“I’m going to grab a quick shower and get dressed,” she muttered, getting to her feet and setting off Fifi’s warning growls again. Although, Lilah noticed, the dog couldn’t be bothered to drop her biscuit while issuing said warnings.

“I can’t take you seriously when you growl at me with a snack in your mouth,” she told the dog, who side-eyed her, and growled even louder at the words.

“You don’t have to bother on my account,” Ben said, rummaging through cabinets again, finding utensils and cookware.

“Oh, you don’t have to worry about that, Ben. I would never,” she said in her sweetest voice and he glanced up to level that damned devastating grin on her.

“That’s good then. I wouldn’t want to inconvenience you in any way.”

She rolled her eyes and left without another word.

Ben watched Lilah leave, a small smile lingering on his lips. It was so damned good to see her again. To talk with her, tease her. He’d missed her. Of course, he knew that he’d missed her. But until he saw her again, he hadn’t known how much. It felt like he’d been reunited with an essential part of him that had been missing for too long. Like he’d been half-alive until that reunion.

He had to come clean. He had to tell her he’d known she was here all along. She hadn’t forgiven him for the last untruth… he couldn’t add another to the massive pile of lies already smoldering between them. If he wanted her eventual forgiveness, he had to start the unsavory task of digging into that reeking pile of crap, with the end goal of reducing it to nothing.

And he had to start soon. Now… today. With this one small lie.

He busied himself with lunch, dumping some precut frozen fries into the air fryer, and preparing a simple green salad. He started the toasties only when he heard her soft tread on the stairs. He glanced up when she stepped back into the living room and the quick welcome back he’d been about to utter froze on his lips… she was wearing a pair of tight high rise jeans, and a short, long-sleeved, cable knit pink crop top that left a sliver of her toned tummy on display. Her drying hair fell to her shoulders in a tousled mass, and he could smell her shampoo and shower gel all the way into the kitchen. Vanilla and something citrusy. Fucking mouthwatering.


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