Clark's POV

The scent of something fried hits me the moment I step into the foyer.

Confusion spikes for a second, and then I remember Elias is here. We've both been so busy with work these last few days that it's been hard to hold a conversation because we've barely been around one another. It's weird how you can miss someone who has never left.

My stomach rumbles as I set my things down and kick off my shoes. I follow the delicious smells and find Elias standing at the stove with his back to me, humming an unfamiliar tune while cooking. He's dressed in a simple white T-shirt and black basketball shorts.

He doesn't have to do much to look good. The urge to walk up and wrap my arms around his waist, plant a kiss on the nape of his neck, reignites a spark of energy within me. My pulse stutters, and I shake off the impulse before making a fool of myself.

Clearing my throat, I approach the kitchen island and lean against it. "Smells good in here."

"Oh!" Elias startles and whirls around, eyes wide. "Hey..." When he registers it's just me, a laugh bubbles out of him. "You're so quiet I didn't hear you come in."

"Sorry. I didn't mean to sneak up on you." I smile, then nod toward the pans on the stove. "What's for dinner?"

"Fried pork chops, hot water cornbread, and my dad's green beans." He does a cute little dance of excitement before giving his attention back to the food, flipping the chops. "He had leftovers from Sunday, and I was not about to decline the offer to come get them."

"I'm glad you didn't. It smells way too good in here." My mouth waters as I glance at the pot of green beans resting on one of the back eyes. "Can't wait to dig in."

"You have time to freshen up. The chops are almost ready."

He laughs when I take off jogging toward the staircase, eager to stuff my face with food.

I peel off my clothes and jump into the shower, blasting the hot water. I worked through lunch today, so I didn't have the chance to stop by Oliver's. I'm so desperate to put something on my stomach that I don't even get a second to fantasize about Elias, which has unfortunately become the norm whenever I'm here.

Hunger and exhaustion overpower my lust tonight. It's been a long day, but a lot got accomplished. My team finally settled the contracts with Ava and her group, inching us closer to completing our deal that will silence my grandfather's criticisms once and for all. Thank God.

Despite all the difficulties Ashford Technologies had endured, I'm confident things will be smooth sailing from here. But that doesn't mean my list of worries shortens.

There is still another problem that needs addressing—Elias.

Closing this deal with Ava means Elias and I won't need to keep up this ruse like we'd planned, despite agreeing to do so for a year. I can't help but think, what if a day comes when he wants to back out? What if he wakes up six months from now and is suddenly tired of my company? Fed up with all the lies we've told?

You can't control the future. Focus on what's happening now.

Shaking away the insecurities, I shut off the water and exit the shower with a sigh. I dry off and change into sweatpants and a T-shirt before walking to the kitchen. I catch Elias setting the table, so I join in, our movements syncing without a word.

I dig in immediately after taking a seat, moaning in content as the flavors explode on my tongue. Elias chuckles softly beside me, but he does the same when he takes a bite of his father's green beans.

"You're a liar if you say these aren't good as hell."

He does another little dance in his seat, so fucking adorable, and it pains me I can't—shouldn't—reach out and touch him. I grip my fork tighter and tear my eyes away from him, staring down at my full plate.

"Tell him I need the recipe," I say.

Elias probes about my day, and I reciprocate, asking about his. The light in his eyes dims as he mentions another disheartening talk with his parents.

"They're set on not wanting another shop," he explains, frowning. "They're going to retire at the end of the year. I'll keep the main shop running, obviously, but they worry I won't be able to handle two at once." He sighs. "Honestly, I'm not even sure what I want anymore."

God, I wish I could hold his hand. "Things should smooth out once you hire people on, right? And of course, I'm here to help with whatever you need."

Our gazes meet, and something softens in his face as he shakes his head. "I'm not taking anything else from you, Clark. You've helped me out enough."

Being honest with myself, there's very little I won't do for him. And that scares the hell out of me because it confirms that our "relationship" is becoming more real than fake. A problem I like to pretend isn't one.

We quietly finish our meal as an unfamiliar tension settles between us. I wish I knew how to break it, how to make him smile again.

"I got the dishes," I announce after Elias stands with his empty plate. I take it from him, offering another polite smile. "You cooked. I'll wash."

"You sure? I can at least dry—"

"No. Go relax. Seriously, I got it from here."

He thanks me and wanders off down the hall.

Once everything is spotless, I make my way to the living room, following the dramatic sounds of a horror movie. Elias is on the couch and staring blankly as some woman runs screaming from the killer chasing after her. I settle beside him, careful to leave a respectable gap between our bodies.

We watch in silence.

My gaze wanders to him more often than it should, taking in his furrowed brow and how his lips move slightly with every twist and turn of the plot. I can tell he's still lost in his head, no doubt replaying that conversation with his parents. The absence of his usually bright self tugs at something deep within me.

When the movie's heroine finally takes out the killer, I speak up. "Want to play a game?"

"A game?" Elias blinks, surfacing from his daze. He turns to me, a faint smile forming as he lowers the volume of the TV. "What kind of game?"

"Truth or Dare?" I shrug.

"Bit childish, isn't it?" He laughs.

"Maybe. You have a better idea?"

"Not really. But I'm down to play." He scoots closer and my heart kicks against my ribs, betraying my calm exterior. "Who goes first?"

"You're the guest. Have at it."

I don't let myself second-guess playing this game with him, despite the risky lane we're veering into. We've both been working hard, and we deserve to have a little fun. Elias most of all.

"Okay, Clark. Truth or dare?"

"Truth."

Elias tsks playfully. "Starting off slow, huh?"

"We gotta build up to the good stuff," I chuckle.

"I prefer to just dive right in—have you ever been in love before?"

I want to deflect with a joke, but something in his open, curious expression stills my tongue.

"No, I don't think I have," I admit.

"Really? Never?"

"My past relationships all ended pretty amicably, for various reasons. I figure if I'd truly been in love, I would've fought harder to make things work, you know?"

Elias hums thoughtfully, digesting my answer. We share a loaded look before I clear my throat. "Okay, my turn. Truth or dare?"

"Truth."

I smirk. "Oh, so when I pick truth, you tease, but now you're playing it safe, too?"

"I'm just evening the field! But fine, ask me anything. I'm an open book. Kinda."

"What's your biggest fear?" I ask.

"Failure," he says without hesitation. Then he chuckles self-consciously. "Wow. Sorry. Was that too intense?"

"It's fine. I can also relate."

Another heated moment passes between us, the air feeling thick enough. Elias shivers slightly before breaking the spell.

"Back to you. Truth or dare?"

Wanting to steer us into lighter territory, I say, "Dare."

His eyes gleam wickedly. "I dare you to strip to your underwear and run a lap around the house."

"What? It's freezing out there!"

"Better run fast then."

"Hold on, what's the penalty for chickening out?"

"Hmm." He taps his chin, pretending to think hard. "Twenty-five push-ups." A second later, he groans. "No, wait! I forgot you already work out like a maniac ..."

"Too late." I'm already lowering myself to the floor, feeling smug. "You already said it. No takebacks."

His exasperated laughter spurs me on as I crank out the push-ups with ease. By the last rep, I'm breathing harder, but it's more from Elias' eyes following my movements. I take my seat beside him, pulse jumping erratically.

"Okay, hotshot." My competitive streak flares. Time to even the score. "Truth or dare?"

"Dare," he says, boldly.

"I dare you to tell me about the dream you had last night."

Elias goes still, blushing.

He's only been staying here a couple of days, but last night before I crept downstairs for water, I heard him moan my name. I wouldn't have investigated, but it sounded so...desperate. Needy. Wrecked. I'd peeked into his room to find his face contorted in what looked like pleasure. My name fell from his lips again, and I rushed away with the world's hardest erection.

"You heard me last night?" Elias whispers, voice barely above the hushed sound of the TV.

"What do you mean?" I smirk, playing coy. "Heard what?"

His mouth opens and closes, then he breaks eye contact. I knew he wouldn't go through with the dare, but I keep the laugh to myself. I'm about to let him off the hook, offer some push-ups instead, but then he speaks.

"I dreamed you were riding me."

Shock steals my breath. I stare at him, cock throbbing straining against my sweats. How long has this been going on? How many sex dreams has he had about us?

"You mean..."

"We were fucking," Elias answers, all shyness gone as his gaze locks onto mine again.

My eyes flicker down to his full lips, and I lose myself. Screw this damn game. I need details.

"And what else did we do?"

"Everything we can't do in real life."

As if magnetized, we both lean closer until barely an inch separates us. I remain still when he reaches out to cup my face with one hand, but I slip up and moan when he gently presses his thumb to my lips, guiding it inside my mouth.

"There was one point when you came so hard you cried," he says. "Then I licked up the mess afterward."

Another moan escapes me, and I suck, tongue swirling, tasting his skin. Elias watches me from beneath heavy lids, pupils slightly blown. He leans in closer and slides his thumb free to lick across my bottom lip.

"Would you, Clark?" he breathes, low and seductive. "Would you let me do it?"

I'll let you do anything.

On autopilot, I climb onto his lap and struggle to not rip his clothes off, the thick line of his erection unmistakable even through the layers.

"Would I what?" My voice is rough with need. I'm seconds away from breaking apart after he rolls his hips, drawing another groan from my throat. "Say it."

"Would you..." Leaning in until our noses brush, he grips my ass and whispers, "Let me fuck you?"

For a heartbeat, I consider the chaos this could unleash. Then the moment passes, all rational thought fleeing the scene like a thief in the night.

Reckless and wanting, I rasp, "I dare you."