Page 19 of The Sun & Her Burn (Impossible Universe Trilogy #2)

“Well, money and sex are all I have to offer,” Adam drawled in that accent that made my toes curl. “It seems you aren’t tempted by either.”

My mouth went dry as my vivid imagination took over. Those big hands on my body, that cool, authoritative voice in my ear demanding I bend and shape myself to his will, those long-lashed eyes dark with desire.

“Adam.” Sebastian’s throaty voice cut into my fantasies and changed their tone.

Four hands sliding over my skin. A mouth on my neck, the other on my breast. Two long, thick cocks to worship.

A violent shiver rocked my frame, and heat flared in my cheeks when I realized how obvious I was being about my daydreaming.

“What?” Adam asked innocently even though his grin was anything but. A wolfish expression that made him look capable of swallowing both of us whole. “I am just being honest with my future wife, Sebastian. You’re not jealous, are you?”

Sebastian’s jaw clenched, the knuckles of his hands white with strain as he gripped the arms of his chair. I wondered for a moment who exactly he was jealous of, Adam or me .

“Linnea is a beautiful woman,” he said with forced calm. “But don’t forget what kind of arrangement you are agreeing to. That’s how people get hurt.”

An undercurrent of something dark and painful spilled through the room, a ghost that hadn’t been properly laid to rest.

“You know, as a condition of the agreement, you won’t be allowed to date or sleep with anyone else for the duration of the contract?” Adam asked mildly, but he was looking at Sebastian as if daring him to argue.

Sebastian opened his mouth to do just that, but I didn’t need him to speak for me.

“I can be discreet,” I offered with a pretty smile.

Both Adam and Seb scowled.

I laughed. “Oh, don’t go all caveman on me. I won’t lie and say the idea of foregoing sex for the next three years is appealing, but I’ve been single for a while now. I know how to scratch my own itch.”

I almost laughed again when both Adam and Sebastian’s gazes grew distant, perhaps imagining just how I tended to that need.

It sent a little thrill through me to know that both men might find me attractive, that either might be imagining putting their hands on me just as I had imagined it minutes before.

I was in a closed-door room with two of the most gorgeous men in Hollywood, one of whom I was going to pretend to date and the other whom I was desperate to date even though he clearly didn’t want me.

Life could be such a bitch.

Adam cleared his throat. “If you’re amenable, I’d like to help you with your career.”

“I already introduced her to Mali,” Sebastian interjected. “She will represent her going forward.”

“Excellent, though Rachel is arguably the best in the business,” Adam said, crossing his arms and managing to stare down his nose at the Italian.

On cue, Seb scoffed, “Mali represents the best young actors in the industry.”

“There is something to be said for experience,” Adam countered.

Laughter lodged in my throat at their repartee even though I knew neither found it funny. Their rapport was so obvious, a half-hidden artifact buried poorly beneath years of neglect.

“Did you have a monetary number in mind for reparation?” Adam’s voice broke into my reverie.

I blinked because I hadn’t really thought about an actual dollar amount. How much did someone get paid to pretend to date a celebrity?

“Why don’t I mock up the contract with a number I think is appropriate, and you can let me know if it’s acceptable?” Adam suggested when I was quiet for too long. “Talk about it with your lawyer, your agent, and Sebastian, if you must. But I promise, it will be generous.”

“Okay,” I said. “Honestly, I just need enough to be able to take care of Miranda.”

Adam nodded, but he stepped forward with a calculating gaze to capture one of my hands, the same one with the ring I was twisting anxiously around one finger. I watched as he smoothed a thumb over the cheap collection of jewellery I had adorning most of my fingers.

“I think we can manage a little better than that,” he murmured. “Perhaps something pure gold for these beautiful hands to match the gold of your pure heart.”

“Linnea doesn’t need gold to shine,” Sebastian said, suddenly standing from his chair, tense and irritated. “Don’t play the charm offensive with her, Adam. She’ll know the real you soon enough.”

Adam tipped his head to eye his old friend. “I seem to recall you found the real me charming enough.”

Sebastian’s flinch was so minute it was almost imperceptible, but his mouth slackened with hurt, and his eyes went flat like hammered gold.

“That was a long time ago,” he said, his Italian accent especially pronounced.

The hurt between the two men was so palpable it felt like an electric current in the air before a summer storm, the hairs on the back of my neck raised in warning. If I exposed myself to it for too long, I knew I would be caught up in a tempest I might not recover from.

But I couldn’t help myself.

Throughout my life, I had been a fixer and a caretaker. This was a consequence of both nature and nurture, given who my mother was, as well as my upbringing by my father, who had me when he was twenty-two and was the eldest of his three brothers, himself just a kid.

Now, faced with the broken connection between two men who had obviously meant so much to each other, I was incapable of leaving well enough alone. Something good could come of this situation for them that went deeper than saved reputations.

They had a second chance at loving each other, and I was going to see to it that they did, even if it meant braiding that broken thread back together piece by fucking piece.

After all, as a seamstress and a designer, I knew how to mend a tear so it would never break again.

“It was a long time ago,” I agreed, standing up so that we were all out of our seats and arranged in a tight triangle. “But we aren’t talking about history, we’re talking about our future. Together.”

“You and I,” Adam agreed, but his tone held a warning.

Which I ignored.

“The three of us,” I countered firmly. “Sebastian is one of my best friends, and he’s in town for the foreseeable future to campaign for award season and find his next project. I won’t be without him close to me, and seeing as you want me close to you, it seems as if we are a package deal.”

“Linnea,” Sebastian said lowly. “That is not necessary. I can see you without Adam being involved.”

He was looking at me, so he didn’t catch the way Adam’s mouth flatlined just for a moment.

It only solidified my resolve.

“No, you are my best friend, and you are, for all intents and purposes, my boyfriend. If we want this to work, you two will have to get along.” When they both looked ready to protest, I held up my hand.

“This is a condition of my agreement. Take it or leave it. Sebastian and I are a package deal. Can you handle us both?”

A series of emotions flickered like a shuttering film reel across Adam’s face. He was usually so stoic in person that it was easy to forget that he was such a consummate actor, that each expression could speak a thousand poetic words.

I saw heartbreak and sorrow, temptation and hope so bright it burned my retinas like staring too long into the sun. Finally, he settled on something like tense resignation as he extended his hand to take mine.

It was warm and shockingly calloused, perhaps from the hours he must have spent in the gym maintaining that fine form. His firm grip shouldn’t have been erotic, yet it was. I felt heat crawl up my arm like fire ants, lighting up my nerves in a way that was almost uncomfortable.

“Sebastian, too,” I added, somewhat breathlessly.

The Italian man hesitated before stepping closer to slide his big palm over the top of our joined hands.

That heat deepened as my imagination—always a wild, untamed thing—galloped away from me. I watched as Adam and Sebastian stared at their hands—our hands—twin expressions of turmoil twisting their mouths, and I knew I had made the right decision for more than just me.