The Play Mate (Roommates #2)

Everything about him was special and attractive to me. Just the life he’d built for himself was enviable. Most days I felt like a hot mess, munching on dry cereal from a plastic bag on my way into work, reading those sex-tips articles at night—hoping for inspiration. Yeah, I was a work in progress.

But Smith knew exactly who he was. A businessman, an athlete who enjoyed regular five-mile runs through the park on the weekends, a friend who could be relied on.

Or at least he did until I marched into his hotel room that night and confused everything.

“So, how do you like working for the company? Did you ever imagine you’d be working in women’s undergarments?” I asked.

He let out a short chuckle. “No. Never. I’ve always enjoyed lingerie, but usually it’s because I’m the one taking it off.”

Now I was the one letting out a giggle.

“I do really like working there, but I’m just a numbers guy,” he continued. “You and your brother are the true visionaries.”

“Just a numbers guy.” I rolled my eyes at him. “I’m pretty sure you’re a millionaire, so yeah.”

Shit. I shouldn’t have said that. The drinks we’d downed were going to my head.

But Smith just shrugged. “My family is. I got lucky.”

“You won the lottery with them.”

Smith’s family was amazing, but I hoped I hadn’t just put my foot in my mouth.

We got quiet for a second. But I’d already started down this path, so it only made sense to keep going.

“Do you ever wonder about your biological parents? If you have any siblings out there?”

Smith sat up straighter. “Of course I do.”

“Have you ever looked into it? Hired a private investigator, anything like that?”

He shook his head. “I’ve thought about it, but no. Couldn’t do that to my mom.”

Mary. The woman who fostered, then adopted Smith was now simply Mom. It was sweet that he was so thoughtful, putting her feelings first, but this was his life too. Surely he was entitled to some basic information about where he came from.

“Do you want to know the truth?” he asked, and I nodded. “It gets to me sometimes, not knowing, living life as one big question mark. Even the little things like when I go to get a physical and the doctor wants my family’s medical history, or wondering how I got my hazel eyes.”

It was crazy how much I could know about this man, and yet he constantly still surprised me.

Reaching over, I placed my hand on his. “I never thought about that part of it. Being in a family with people who don’t look like you.”

“Yeah. Maybe someday, maybe when my parents pass away, I’ll look into it. But you know, regardless, I don’t think I’d change a thing,” he said with a shrug. “Even after all the hard times early on. It was tough getting shuffled around, especially because I was so young and didn’t understand. I wanted to be loved so badly and couldn’t figure out why no one wanted to love me back.”

His tone was so matter of fact, like that of a man far removed from that pain, but my throat ached with tears at the thought of a four-year-old Smith being packed up and moved from house to house.

I wanted to go back in time, find his birth mother and father and slap them both upside the head for leaving him. Sure, maybe they’d done it because they couldn’t provide a good life for him anymore, but in my emotional state at that moment, none of that mattered. All that mattered was that Smith had suffered, and I hated the thought of it.

“My parents are really wonderful,” he continued, oblivious to my internal struggle. “And my relationship with Pam and her family is probably one of the best things in my life. I wouldn’t trade that for the world.”

I nodded in agreement. Cullen and I were close like that, and it was a bond that could never be broken.

At least, I hope not.

I took a sip from my glass and tried not to let myself indulge in that line of thinking. If Cullen did find out about Smith and me and that was enough to damage our relationship for good, then there were deeper problems at play. We were family, and we would work through it if it came down to that. It was Cullen and Smith’s relationship that had me worried. As close as they were, it was still hard for Cullen to accept that I was a grown-up now. He would probably think Smith had taken advantage of me, which, considering how we’d started whatever this was between us, was almost funny.

“But I do think my past fucked me up some and probably has a lot to do with my relationships as an adult. I won’t lie, Everleigh,” he said, meeting my gaze. “I feel different about you than I’ve ever felt before, but I don’t know what that means yet. I’m no white knight, and I could fuck this all up. If you want to walk away now and cut your losses, I’ll understand.”