One Week Girlfriend (10 page)

But this girl…she doesn’t feel pointless. She’s real and she’s beautiful and she fits perfectly when she’s in my arms. She makes me want to feel.

So dangerous to think like this. I don’t mean anything to her. I’m a means to an end. A job with a paycheck. I did this to myself and now I regret it.

I scowl and slug back the beer I got from the bar earlier. It’s my second one and if I have to endure this for much longer, I’m grabbing another soon. I’m pissed that my plan to parade around a fake girlfriend has gone straight to hell and I have no idea how to stop this train wreck called my emotions. I’m not even sure if I want to stop this.

That’s the stupidest thing of all. How much I want to torture myself. But if it feels good being with her, why would I want to stop?

You’ve done other things that felt real good, but you knew you should stop.

I hate that voice inside my head. It reminds me of all my faults. All the bad shit I’ve done. I’m not a good person and I know it. I don’t need the constant reminders.

“Drew, there you are!” Damn it, it’s Kaylie and she’s got two friends trailing behind her. All girls I went to school with, and all of them perfectly dressed and done up so they look like identical plastic Barbie dolls. It’s hard to tell them apart. “We’ve been looking all over for you. You remember Abby and Ella, right?”

“Yeah. Hey.” I flick my chin in greeting and they all simultaneously flutter their eyelashes at me in response, giggling as they watch me. It’s completely unnerving and I wish they’d leave.

Beside me, I hear a quiet snort emanate from Fable, which makes me smile. Glancing over my shoulder, I see the slightly bemused look on her face, mixed with a dose of irritation. Kaylie is persistent, I gotta give her that, but I wish she would catch a clue.

“There’s dancing later you know,” Kaylie says, oblivious to the death glare Fable’s throwing at her. “Maybe I could steal you away from your—girlfriend. We could catch up, since it’s been a while.”

She makes it sound like we used to be together or something, when truthfully I can barely remember her. I don’t know why this girl is so hell bent on pursuing me.

“Every dance is taken by me tonight. Sorry.” Fable’s voice is bright and cheery but she doesn’t sound one bit sorry. Plus, she’s resting her hand on my upper thigh, her fingers curving around my leg so they’re almost brushing against my dick. It’s a possessive move and I freaking love it.

“Yeah, uh…sorry Kaylie.” I offer her an apologetic smile which she doesn’t bother returning. She leaves in a huff, flicking her blonde hair over her shoulder as she turns and walks away with her little drones. I watch them go, ultra aware of Fable next to me. More aware of her small hand that still rests on my thigh.

I don’t want her to move it either.

“Tell me what that girl is to you.”

She sounds mad. I look at her, my gaze meeting hers. Those green eyes are shooting fire and I’m her target. “Nothing. I knew her in high school but we hardly talked.”

Fable’s lips are firm, her eyes hard. She looks ready to kick some ass. “She acts like an old girlfriend.”

“She wasn’t.” I shake my head.

“You banged her then.” Her eyes narrow into slits and my heart constricts in my chest as realization hits.

Fable is jealous. And if the gloating sensation floating through me makes me an ass, then so be it. I’m actually getting some emotion out of this girl. She acts like she cares.

“I didn’t bang her.” My voice is soft. I don’t want her mad. Reaching out, I touch her, drift my fingers across her cheek as I stare at her lips. I want to kiss her. Reassure her that there’s nothing between Kaylie and I, no history, no nothing.

“Good.” Her hand drops away from my thigh and she pulls back from my touch. I’m left reaching for air and I watch in disbelief as she withdraws into herself completely. She’s shut me out in the space of about ten seconds and it’s the weirdest thing I’ve ever seen.

I had her, now I don’t. And I have no clue why.

She pushes back her chair and stands, holding out her hand toward me. “Could I have my cell, please?”

“Where are you going?” I reach inside my pocket and pull the phone out, giving it to her. I’m struck again by how gorgeous she looks in that dress. I know she’d look even more gorgeous out of it.

“Outside. I need to call my brother and make sure he’s okay.” She offers me a quick smile and before I can ask if she needs me to come with her, she’s gone, threading through the crowd and headed toward the doors that lead outside onto a giant terrace that overlooks the golf course.

The room swallows her until I can’t see her any longer, and my throat gets tight. I miss her. Ridiculous, considering that I hardly know her, and we’ve only been together like this for three freaking days if you count the day we drove down here, but still.

“She’s not the one for you, you know.”

A rough breath leaves me and I close my eyes, wishing I were anywhere but here. With her. Opening my eyes, I turn to see Adele sitting in Fable’s just-vacated chair. The seat is still warm and I’ve already got Adele harassing me. I really don’t need this shit. “Stay out of my life.” I keep my voice low, I don’t want anyone to overhear us.

“You can’t avoid me forever. You know I’m going to get you alone sometime.” She smiles, her lids lower over her dark eyes. “You’re using her as a shield, but I’ll make it happen eventually.”

“I’m not using her,” I start but Adele cuts me off with a look.

“You think I didn’t miss that tentative little kissing session in the backseat of the car? Just because your dad and I were fighting doesn’t mean I’m not aware of every single thing you do.” Her smug smile fills me with revulsion. “I’m sorry, but whatever that was between you two looked like two beginners who have no idea what you’re doing with each other. Like you’ve never even touched each other before. Tell me the truth. Are you really with her?”

Panic settles in and my throat is as dry as the Sahara. I don’t want to answer. It’s none of her goddamned business, but I know she won’t let it go. She’ll keep at it and keep at it until I give in. I used to always give in to Adele, and I hate that about myself.

Hate it.

I glance across the table, trying to catch my dad’s eye, but he’s so engrossed in conversation with the guy sitting next to him, he’s not noticing anything. “We’re really together,” I say through clenched teeth, trying not to look at her. The disgusted sound she makes draws my attention though, despite my efforts.

Her eyes flicker the slightest bit, revealing her hesitation, but she forges on. “So. Is she any good in bed? Does she know any special tricks?”

Jesus.
I knew this would eventually happen, but not here. Not surrounded by hundreds of people. “Don’t fucking go there.”

Her smile widens. She knows she’s struck a nerve. “Does she keep you satisfied, Andrew? That’s rather difficult, you know. Once someone breaks down all those steel walls you so carefully build around yourself, you’re quite…insatiable.”

Shame washes over me and I stand so fast, my chair falls to the ground with a loud clatter. Everyone at our table looks at me, and my cheeks heat with embarrassment.

Adele sits there as serene as a queen on her throne. She doesn’t bother looking at me. She knows what she’s done.

“You okay, son?” my dad asks, his brows furrowed.

I don’t answer him. Instead, I escape, desperate to get away from Adele. I need to get out of this crowd. The room feels like it’s closing in on me, and my head is spinning. I don’t know if it’s from anxiety or the two beers I drank tonight.

All I know is I need fresh air. I’m headed for the terrace.

Headed for Fable.

Fable

“You’re still at Wade’s house, right?” I take a drag of my cigarette and exhale, momentarily captivated by the thin tendrils of smoke that float in the air. It’s cold as hell and I’m totally sneaking this stupid cigarette, since there are no smoking signs all over this freaking terrace. What’s the point of having an outdoor area if you’re not going to let people smoke?

“Yeah, yeah, I’m still here.” Owen sounds irritated as hell but I don’t care. It’s past nine o’clock, he should be in bed at ten and I want to make sure he’s where he’s supposed to be.

“Bedtime is ten, don’t forget it.” I flick ashes over the railing, again with the litterbug routine and I feel like a shit. What is it about all these fancy rich people that makes me act like I grew up in a gutter?

“But that’s so early. Wade doesn’t go to bed til eleven.” He’s whining. Yet again. Reminding me that he’s completely immature and still in so many ways a little boy, though he’s desperate to prove he’s practically a man who can take care of himself.

“Well, good for Wade. I still think you should at least be in bed by ten,” I relent, knowing he probably won’t listen to me.

I hate being away from him. There’s something going on, something he’s hiding from me, but I can’t put my finger on exactly what. I just hope he can keep his act together until I at least come home.

“Whatever,” Owen mutters. “Most of the time, you act like you’re my mom, you know?”

My throat swells up and I fight off the tears. I’m totally emotional tonight and I can’t really explain it. I blame Drew and his stupid, perfect lips. That kiss rattled some weird emotion inside my chest and I’ve been near tears ever since. “Someone has to stay on top of you.”

He laughs. “Ain’t that the truth?”

“Oh my God, use real words, please.” I laugh too, pleased that he’s in a good mood. Earlier when I talked to him, he’d been wary and evasive. I don’t want him keeping secrets from me, but I know it’s natural, considering he’s thirteen and all. His behavior will only get worse too, I’m sure. But I’m prepared. At least as prepared as I can be.

Men and their deep, dark secrets. I know Drew’s got a ton of them. I’m not sure what they are, but I have feeling they’re pretty major. He’s all bottled up and tense. I felt it in his body when he kissed me and I was in his arms. His body rigid, as if he was holding himself back.

I didn’t want him to hold back. Not then, and definitely not now. He puts up this façade for everyone and I’m starting to wonder exactly who is the real Drew. And does he even know?

“I’ll call you tomorrow, okay? Be good.” I draw on the cig, hold the smoke in my lungs before I release it slowly. God, I know how bad this is for me but I can’t help it. Smoking relaxes me. And hanging out at this shitty country club dinner, I need as much relaxing as I can get.

“Bye, Fabes.” No one else calls me that, just Owen. “Love you.”

“Love you too,” I whisper, ending the call. I clutch the phone in a death grip since I don’t have a purse and I really don’t feel like shoving it in between my boobs.

“Smoking kills, you know.”

Drew’s sexy, deep voice washes over me and I glance over my shoulder, spotting him standing a few feet away. His hands are shoved in his pockets and the wind ruffles his dark hair.

He looks irritated and so gorgeous with it I wish I could take a picture. So I could capture this single breathtaking moment for all eternity and always have it—and him—with me.

“Following me?” I ask as I stub out the cigarette on the wooden railing. I don’t know what to do with it, so I leave it there like the total litterbug I’ve become.

“I needed to get out of there.”

“Me too,” I sigh. I turn my attention back to the golf course and just beyond, the ocean. I wonder if we’ll come back here so I can see this view in the daylight. These rich people have no idea what sort of beauty surrounds them. They see this every single day and it’s nothing special. They probably don’t even notice.

I wonder what it’s like, to be that numb to such beautiful surroundings. Of course, I’m numb to the mundane that surrounds me on a daily basis. Maybe we all move through life comfortably numb. Reminds me of one of my mom’s favorite songs.

“Is your brother okay?”

“He’s fine.” I shrug. Drew’s only asking because he’s being polite. Standing outside, alone in the cold night air for only a few minutes, has made this situation between us clearer. And I need that, after the mind-boggling kiss we shared.

He doesn’t care about me and I don’t care about him. We’re doing a job and that’s it. The kiss? A one-off, a way to let off steam because hey, spending all this time together in such close quarters and pretending to be a real couple is going to generate some…friction. Heat. Sexual chemistry.

We have it. Chemistry. I can feel it now, pinging between us, singeing my skin. I feel his eyes on me, can hear him approach and now he’s standing next to me, his arms propped against the railing just like mine. He bumps his elbow into me in a friendly gesture and I shiver. The wind is like ice and it bites at my bared skin.

“You’re cold.” His low murmur ripples along my nerve endings and I want to yell at him to back off.

But I don’t.

“Sort of,” I answer.

He chuckles. “If I had a jacket, I’d make you wear it.”

I don’t want him to act like a gentleman. Or like a kind, attentive boyfriend. I don’t want any of these…lies. What I need is reality. Cold, hard facts. I need to remember the money sitting in my bank account, the fact that he’s using me to push his family away. The fact that I’m using him to ensure temporary financial stability for my pitiful little family needs to stay prominent in my mind. I can’t forget it.