Bachelor Swap, Lacey Black [best short novels txt] 📗

talking about, I go on. “I want to come clean with her, Matthew.”

“Okay, so say you do that, say you come clean. What do you think the end result will be when you tell her you’ve been pretending to be me for almost three weeks? Do you think Kyla is just going to laugh at the misunderstanding? And then what? You both ride off into the sunset and live happily ever after? You don’t live in Massachusetts,” he says, a little too casually.

“I’m well aware of where I live and don’t, Matthew. And… I’m not sure what to expect, but I just can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep lying to her. She deserves better than this,” I mumble, closing my eyes and picturing the way she looked this morning, sleeping on my arm in the early sunlight.

Matthew sighs in the phone. “You can’t do this, Mase. Not now.” There’s a hardness in his tone I haven’t heard before.

“I have to. I’m done lying to her. We’ve got that charity gala for her animal shelter this weekend. I’m going to tell her afterward.” I start pacing the room once more, my legs carrying me without so much as a thought or care.

“Not acceptable, Mase,” my brother argues, his voice hard, leaving no room for argument.  “I’m paying you to do a job, and if you tell Kyla about our arrangement, you’ll be going against the deal you signed, therefore ensuring the contract is void.”

“Matthew, don’t do this,” I start, but stop when he continues.

“That means you wouldn’t receive any of the payment, brother. The money you so desperately need would be gone.”

I blink slowly, shocked by what he’s saying. “So, if I tell her, you won’t pay me the money you promised.”

“No, if you tell her, you’re breaking the contract you signed, leaving me no choice but to not pay you.”

“That’s bullshit,” I holler, my heart pounding angrily in my chest.

“You signed an agreement, Mason. You did this, not me. You could have walked away and not taken the deal, but you didn’t.”

“Because I felt like I had no choice,” I counter.

“You always have a choice, Mason. Always. You tell her the truth and you blow everything.”

I close my eyes, knowing he’s right. If I tell Kyla what I’ve done and who I am, I go against the agreement I signed with Matthew. But if I don’t tell her, I’m not sure I can live with myself. Either way, I’m screwed.

“Just get through the gala, Mason. I’ll be home Sunday and you can fly back to Montana, two hundred thousand dollars richer. Your debt is paid with the bank and you have a small nest egg to help whatever you have planned for the next phase. Forget about Kyla. She’d never understand. She’ll never forgive you.”

His words repeat over and over, even after I’ve hung up a few minutes later. I go back and forth so many times, I’m dizzy with exhaustion and indecision. I want to tell her, but if I do, I’m risking losing everything I’ve been fighting for. I try to chase my problems with scotch, but all that does is make it worse. Now I have a major problem on my hands and I’m drunk.

Could tonight get any worse?

Chapter Sixteen

Kyla

“So tell me all about what’s happening with the prince,” Amalee says, sipping her second margarita of the night.

I’m all smiles the moment she finally brings up Matthew. We’ve only been here long enough to order our food, start our second margarita, and devour half the basket of chips and salsa, but it’s longer than I thought it would take her to ask about him.

“Smiling’s good. Tell me,” she demands good-heartedly, a mischievous grin on her face.

“I think I’m falling in love with him.” I don’t mean for those words to come out of my mouth, but they just…pour from me like a faucet of truth.

Amalee gasps and claps her hands together. “Holy shit, are you serious? I’m so happy for you,” she coos, dipping another chip in the homemade salsa.

I take a drink of my cold strawberry margarita and set it down, just as our food is delivered. We wait until the waitress steps away before we resume our conversation. “We’ve been spending a lot of time together lately,” I start, cutting into my chicken enchilada and dousing it with sour cream and guacamole.

“Ohhhh,” she sings, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.

“Not like that,” I start, taking a bite of my food. “Well, a little bit like that.”

I share a few not-too-intimate details, boasting about the dates we’ve been on, most of which happen at either his place or mine. I’ve learned Matthew actually prefers eating in than out, which still shocks me a little, considering how many times we ate in fancy restaurants in the beginning. Maybe that was his way of trying to impress me.

“Do I get to meet him officially this Saturday?” she asks, referring to the upcoming gala. Amalee and Matthew have been to a few events at the same time but have never been introduced.

“Yes. He’s agreed to come with me. I’m a little nervous, if I’m being honest. My dad is going to be there too.”

“Oh, the boyfriend and the father meeting for the first time? I’m sure it’ll be fine. Your dad gets along with everyone. Well, unless it’s business related,” she adds with a laugh.

I nod slowly, taking another bite of my food. “I’m sure you’re right, but still. I just really want them to get along, you know?”

“I do.”

We chat about the gala details until we’ve finished our meal and the plates are collected. Amalee drains her margarita. “So… I met a guy last week,” she says, nonchalantly, but I already know this is somewhat of a big deal. My best friend has always been a fan of casual sex. With her high demand profession, Amalee doesn’t bother with relationships. Not that she hasn’t tried. She has, but the one time she put herself and heart on