“Ugh,” I groan, looking at the time on my phone. “I need to get back to work.”
He frowns at his half-eaten salad and pushes the bowl away. “Forget this shit. I’m sick of it. Bring me a chocolate milkshake. I promise to tip real good. Nice and slow.”
I roll my eyes as I stand, gathering my stuff. “How on earth did you con me into this again?”
“Simple.” He leans back in the booth with a smirk. I feel a tingle in my pussy from that dangerous smile and curse my treacherous body for thinking we can go there. I won’t toe that line with him. “We needed each other.”
He’s not wrong, and it’s beginning to scare me the more I realize how close we’ve grown, because the end of this arrangement should be a clean break, but I’m not sure it will be, and I’m terrified of the fallout. I’ve had my world obliterated before. I’m not sure I can handle a second time.
It’s a reminder to hold my heart close.
I can’t fall for my fake-boyfriend. That’s trouble with a capital T.
13
Teddy
Putting together an entire extravaganza for Valentine’s Day for a girl who isn’t even actually my girlfriend is probably the most insane thing I’ve ever done, but also something that’s brought me a joy I don’t even want to begin to think about.
Is it possible that me, the player who was always looking for my next one-night stand, actually likes—gasp—monogamy. The most ironic part of all being that I’m not even actually getting any ass.
Oh, how the tables have turned.
This morning I had a bouquet of flowers delivered to her, a bunch of random looking wildflowers if I had to guess. Not roses. Roses make me think of stuffy old ladies.
I also had breakfast sent to her—French toast from a local diner.
Parking outside her dorm, I start to panic, thinking about how I’ve gone way overboard.
I just … fuck. I want to make this special for her and me, even if this whole relationship is a farce, it’s the most serious thing I’ve ever had in my life, and I want to treat her right.
I think aliens have kidnapped my body. Please, for the love of God, I hope they don’t use an anal probe. I know it’s been a while, but I’d prefer to be the one doing the pegging, not being pegged, please and thank you, weird green aliens.
“Get yourself together,” I mutter to myself, gripping the steering wheel so tight I’m cutting off circulation.
Releasing it, I lean back in the seat and shoot Vanessa a text that I’m coming up. Sliding my phone back in my pocket, I eye the giant stuffed pink octopus with hearts I picked up at the drugstore along with the box of chocolates.
My phone buzzes as I get out of the car, and I’m not surprised to find the usual text from her insisting she’ll come down.
I never listen, and she never stops trying. It’s honestly amusing how stubborn we both are.
I head into the building, slipping in behind a group of girls. They giggle, batting their eyes. I flash them my winning smile and tip my head before I jog up the steps. Stepping onto Van’s floor, I spot her waiting for the elevator and grin. I walk carefully, silently over to her and stop beside her.
“I told you I was coming.”
“Ah!” she screams, flailing. “Don’t do that!” She swats at me. “You could’ve given me a heart attack.”
“Come on, now, have some faith. I need to keep you alive after all.”
She shakes her head, her breathing irregular as we step onto the elevator and head down.
“I still think this is dumb,” she mutters, crossing her arms. She’s dressed casually, like I told her to after her confession that an elaborate evening was the last thing she wanted. But with her arms crossed beneath her chest, I can’t help but admire the swell of her breasts in the cut of her v-neck shirt. She’s wearing a jacket over top, and jeans with sneakers.
“You know,” I pretend to pick dirt from beneath my blunt fingernails, “it’d be nice if my girlfriend would at least pretend to like to spend time with me.”
She rolls her eyes, fighting a smile. “Fake—meaning all of this is unnecessary. Seriously. You could’ve ignored the day all together.”
“Well, too bad. I’m not doing that.”
The door dings and I reach for her hand before they slide open. She stiffens for a second, but relaxes, putting on her game face when she sees the girls waiting to get on.
I’d be lying if I said a part of me didn’t feel a little hurt over that fact—that she can put on an act so easily in the face of others, but when it’s just the two of us, she balks at the idea of intimacy.
Because this isn’t real, my conscience taunts. She’s only doing what you should be—what you asked for.
I lead her outside and open the passenger door for her. She releases my hand and slips inside, those dark blue eyes flickering upward with a smile as she places the stuffed octopus and chocolate in her lap. But of course, it’s not a thank you that comes out of her mouth. No, she always has to surprise me. “Your car is so low to the ground my ass touches the asphalt. Is it worth having a car this fancy to get ass burn?”
I throw my head back and laugh, not having expected that at all to leave her mouth.
Leaning against the open car door, I cock my head to the side. “What kind of vehicle would you prefer, dear?”
She looks around the spotless interior—I have it detailed regularly. Eyes gliding back to me she clears her throat, her nose wiggling. “One not so … flashy. You know what they say about men and their flashy cars or too big trucks?”
“What’s that?” I inquire, already knowing where she’s going with this and eating it up like an ice cream sundae.
“They have small penises,” she whisper-hisses, flaring those blue eyes innocently.
I wet my lips with my tongue, smirking. “Trust me, babe. There’s nothing little about me, and definitely not my cock.”
A gasp flies out of her throat, her cheeks turning red, and I relish in my ability to render her speechless. I close the door and walk around the front of my car, slipping inside. Starting it up, the engine purrs like an exotic feline, and I grin as I turn my head to look at her.
“Maybe if you’re a good girl I’ll let you play with it.”
“With w-what?” she stutters, eyes wide. “Your dick?”
I laugh again, a fully-body belly laugh. God, this girl.
“The car, princess. Why would I be talking about my cock?”
Her cheeks grow even redder, and I chuckle as I drive away.
“You seriously brought me to an animal shelter?” Her voice kicks up in pitch as I park outside the brick building.
“Hey, it was your idea,” I remind her.
“I know. I guess I didn’t expect you to actually bring me to one.”
That pink octopus is still clutched firmly in her arms, and she keeps sniffing the top of its head.
“Are we going to go in or sit here?”
She nods eagerly, eyes lighting up. “Go in.”
“I’ll get the door,” I remind her, stepping out of the car and going around to open hers.