Dear Phoney Fiance Page 3

  “Chill arrangement?” Rachel repeated, unimpressed. “You sound like a hipster.”

  “And you sound like an old lady. I swear you have the withered soul of a baby boomer.”

  Rachel sighed. “Why do I have a really bad feeling about this?”

  “Because you’re a worry-wart and if you don’t have something to worry about, that fills you with anxiety,” I teased.

  I couldn’t believe they were both being such stick-in-the-muds about this. I thought they’d be more supportive. Once minute they were berating me for being a hermit and practically shoving me into the arms of a stranger and the next they were shaking their finger at me for being reckless. Pick a lane. “Stop worrying. How about this, I’ll bring Jace by and you can meet him and then you can put your concerns to bed. Once you meet him you’ll realize, he’s great and this will just be one of those funny stories we tell our kids when they don’t believe that we were once fun and irresponsible.”

  “This would definitely qualify,” Rachel groused but I could sense she was lightening up, if only just a little. We all had to work in the morning — God, adulting sucked — and I felt bad that they’d felt the need to wait up for me. Such little mother hens. Not much had changed since our college days in that respect.

  I grinned even as I yawned while stripping to climb into bed. “Hey, hit the lights on your way out. I’m beat. Jace and I are meeting after work for our second official date. I’m thinking bowling. Or maybe putt-putt. I don’t know. We’re still deciding. Love you, ‘night!”

  Daisy shook her head and said to Rachel as they walked out, “Maybe this will still work out in a good way?”

  “Are you kidding? It’s completely screwed.”

  I chuckled as I snuggled down into the blankets. My last thought before drifting off to sleep was Jace’s gorgeous blue eyes and the way they sparkled when he laughed.

  The man had criminally beautiful eyes.

  Whoever this Alyssa was — she’d definitely traded down when she walked away from Jace Nolan.

  That was a fact.

  The night couldn’t have gone more smoothly than if I’d scripted it on a piece of paper. Cara was like an angel delivering some much-needed good ju-ju after a run of bad luck had pretty much landed a few vicious blows to the nut-sack.

  I wasn’t one to throw pity parties but I had to admit what Alyssa and Jordan had pulled on me — well, they’d cut me down at the knees.

  When I’d pictured my life after college, it’d been with Alyssa and Jordan by my side but that’s not how it’d turned out.

  Betrayal was a bitch, right?

  My best friend fucking me over for my best girl. Old story, cliche as fuck.

  If I hadn’t had a soft spot for Jordan’s mom — and she wasn’t dying from the Big C — I would’ve told Jordan to shove his offer up his ass and walked off the minute I realized I’d been duped into being at that party.

  As it was, it’d been a total shock to the system seeing Alyssa and Jordan again after a year of being away.

  It’d been an even bigger jolt to see how happy they seemed together. Fuck, that was a tough pill to swallow but you know what, tigers don’t change their stripes. Jordan would find out sooner or later that Alyssa wasn’t in it for the long game. She’d replace him just like she replaced me and he’d know the pain of a broken heart but whatever, that was his problem.

  I scrubbed my face, irritated with my own thoughts. I hated that I was allowing Alyssa and Jordan to contaminate my mental theater.

  I focused on Cara instead.

  What a woman.

  She could’ve been freaked out, insulted, stormed off in a huff. I’d taken a risk putting up the profile but to be honest, I’d been kinda drunk when I’d hatched the idea and I’d been in a ‘fuck it’ frame of mind.

  Maybe not my finest hour but then I’d gotten the hit from Cara — or as it’d turned out from her besties under the pretense of Cara — and I’d pushed forward.

  Funny how things turn out.

  She was fucking hot. Whoever her ex was, he was an idiot to let her go. I mean, I get it, surface stuff was easy to judge but she was funny, smart and seemingly not prone to drama — and obviously down for adventure — so what’s not to love?

  Probably snored like a freight train.

  Maybe her feet stunk like day-old cheese.

  Or maybe she was passive-aggressive as fuck to the point that getting a straight answer out of her was like trying to get a chimpanzee to sing opera.

  Alyssa had seemed perfect, too.

  Until she’d decided to rip my heart out and feed it to me.

  Anyway, dating was a waste of time these days. Fake Instagram models, Snapchat profile pics with dog ears and shit, I mean, I’ve discovered the hard way if a grown woman is sporting cartoon bunny ears or some shit in her profile pic, chances are she’s immature as fuck or worse, insecure and I didn’t have the patience to deal with either of those personality glitches.

  Maybe I was being unnecessarily harsh but some things were just lame as fuck and it seemed no one had the balls to just come and say it. I guess I’d lost my ability to whitewash the truth. Or maybe I was just fucking bitter. Alyssa always used those stupid fucking filters and they reminded me of her.

  I grabbed my cell and opened Instagram, going to Cara’s profile. As planned, she’d posted our selfie and tagged me. It was already blowing up with likes and comments from both our profiles.

  Operation: Fuck Our Exes was officially on.

  I was inordinately happy to see that Cara did not have of those stupid filters on any of her pics. She didn’t need any silly bunny, dog, pig, or whatever filters to make herself look like some anime cartoon character with impossibly large eyes and plastic skin.

  I flipped through a few pages of her life, liking a few pictures here and there. Damn, girl. She posted a lot. I stopped before it became stalking but not before pausing on a sinfully hot picture of Cara at the beach mugging with her girlfriends over margaritas during spring break. Those legs went straight to a perfectly heart-shaped ass. I bit back a groan.

  No sex had seemed like a good idea at the time. Now? Fuck.

  It was smart, though. We made the rules for a reason but just thinking about Cara and that lean body made me hard. I guess that was okay to admit in the privacy of my own bedroom, right?

  Hell, it’d been awhile since I’d had sex. I wasn’t into the one-night stand thing — my buddy Eric said I was in danger of losing my single man card — but soulless fucking was just that, fucking. I’d rather jack off. Less stress and I didn’t have to think about the potential awkward conversation later.

  Speaking of.

  My hand slid down my stomach to find my rock-hard cock. Yeah, no problems there. At that particular moment it was difficult to remember why we agreed to keep sex off-limits between us.

  I liked her long dark hair. Did she shave her dark curls or keep it natural? God, I hoped she kept it a little natural. I know most guys liked the kitty smooth but I liked a little texture. My tongue darted to slid along my bottom lip as I pictured a dainty nest of brown curls covering her clit. I wanted to feast on her, discover her scent, listen to her cues as I fucked her with my tongue and fingers.

  I gripped my cock, sliding my palm along the shaft, picturing Cara arching as I held her down, hips in both hands, face buried between her damp folds. I wanted to feel those silky thighs tremble as I pushed her toward that cliff, taste that sweet cream as she gushed in my mouth at the moment she lost control.

  Sweat popped along my hairline as I strained against my palm, my grip rough. I could almost smell the sex in the air, hear the moans. I closed my eyes, biting my lip as I jerked my cock faster. The scene in my head switched lightning fast. Cara bent over. Her tight ass up in the air, framed between my hands as I drove into that wet, slippery heat after I’ve made her cum with my tongue so many times she’s lost her own name. Her fingers clutch at the bedding, almost desperately as I rail into her willing body,
going balls-deep into that heavenly place until I can feel my sac tighten up, signaling that moment when a fucking bomb could go off and I wouldn’t notice.

  I groan deep and long as I cum hard, narrowly missing my own face as the payload lands on my fucking chest. “Ahhh, fuck me,” I wheezed, grabbing the first thing I could find to wipe myself down. That was intense. My heart still thundering I tossed the soiled whatever I’d grabbed — shirt? — and rolled back to the bed, throwing my arm over my eyes, breathing hard.

  Holy shit, I couldn’t remember the last time I’d cum that hard just from jerking off.

  Talk about epic. What would the real thing to do me? Heart attack? Stroke? Might be worth it.

  We had plans to see each other tomorrow after work. A grin found me. Looking forward to it.

  Although, I’d probably this little moment to myself.

  Yeah…good idea.

  I chuckled as I fell asleep, my last thought of Cara.

  Naked.

  Thanks to a series of texts throughout the day, we managed to nail down our next date —Level Up! — an arcade bar that was blowing up social media for its retro appeal that neither of us had been to yet. Old-style arcade games, a kick-ass DJ rocking the dance floor and plenty of alcohol to keep things from getting awkward sounded like a convincing and fun second date.

  The man could cut through a crowd and it wasn’t just because he was taller than most people. My heart rate kicked up a notch as I smiled his way. Heads swiveled in his direction when he walked past them, particularly women, not that I blamed them. It wasn’t my place to feel jealous so I pushed down the immediate urge to mean-mug those thirsty bitches. Look all you like, ladies but tonight we’re putting on a show so he’s all mine.

  God, he was fine. Did his looks increase ten-fold in the space of one night? Did the hotness fairy make an extra stop and sprinkle some of her magic his way while he was sleeping because something seemed different.

  “It must suck to be you,” I teased as caught up to me outside of the bar. “I swear I think every ovary within a thirty-foot radius just jockeyed for position to throw their eggs in your direction.”

  He guffawed and shook his head. “Not hardly. What about you? Am I allowed to say you’re fucking smoking hot tonight?” Jace said, his gaze taking in all of me with open appreciation. “Maybe we should go over the rules again.”

  I tried not to preen with feminine pride as I gave him a cheeky smile. “I bet you say that to all your fake fiancees.”

  “Only you, baby,” he said, fluttering his lashes with mock sincerity and even though we were joking around being assholes, because all of this was ridiculous, there was an undercurrent of serious chemistry that we were both trying to ignore. I could feel the energy between us crackling like summer heat even though it was goddamn freezing outside and I could barely feel my toes inside my boots.

  “Shall we go inside?” he suggested and I nodded my head like a marionnette, happy to go where it was warm but also because this was starting to feel too much like a real date and it that was throwing me off-kilter.

  Stay focused. Nothing had changed from last night. We were like bros. We had mad “friend” chemistry. I was doing a new friend a much-needed solid. Don’t overthink anything. Damn Rachel and Daisy for wiggling their way into my head with their pinched expressions and open disapproval. I swear, sometimes I couldn’t win for losing.

  “You okay?” Jace asked, breaking into my thoughts.

  I spun on my heel. “Let’s kiss.” My abrupt suggestion shocked the both of us. Okay, so sometimes, I’m not always in control of what drops from my mouth. Gotta ride that train now that it’d left the station as my mom would say. “We have to break the seal if we’re going to sell this illusion by the time the wedding is here. I mean, if we’re not comfortable pressing lips together, it’ll show. You know? I mean, it’s just kissing. But we should do it and get it over with.”

  “Break the seal,” he repeated, amused.

  “Yeah, shake out the jitters. Are you a good kisser or is this going to be like going a few rounds with a Saint Bernard? What should I prepare for?”

  “Oh no, you didn’t just throw a gauntlet, did you?” he said, pulling me into his arms with a grin that sent shivers marching down my spine like tiny soldiers taking a bunker. My arms went around his neck automatically as our bodies molded to one another as if made to click together. Ohhhh no, this felt way too good. The soft, melty purr trapped in the back of my throat was too real but I didn’t do a thing to pull away. Instead, I met those gorgeous blue eyes with a bold challenge and he took it without another word.

  Jesus. I should really learn how to bluff.

  His lips, soft yet firm, teased my mouth open as his tongue sought mine. I lifted on my toes seeking more as he deepened the kiss. Jace held me tight as he explored my mouth with a sweet savagery that stole my breath and left me dizzy.

  He released me slowly and I blinked, forgetting for a moment that we weren’t alone.

  I swallowed as I tried to recover, dragging the back of my hand across my mouth with a surreptitious glance around the bar, lifting my chin when I realized for a heartbeat I’d been one-hundred percent in that moment with Jace. To be fair, it was hard to be fake with someone when their tongue was in your mouth.

  And that tongue. Okay, sue me, the man was talented.

  Jace could medal in giving soul-stealing kisses. Definitely way better than Drake ever was. Drake had always used way too much tongue and not enough finesse. Sometimes I’d felt as if Drake had been trying to shove his tongue down to my toes.

  Blech. Get out of my head, Drake. You’re not welcome.

  I definitely want to do that again but not with a crowd watching us. Get your head in the game, Cara. “Okay, you’ve got some skill, you’re cleared to do that again,” I said, air-checking a pretend clipboard. Cut me some slack, I was still a little kiss drunk. But we had a big night ahead of us and we had to get it going. I clapped my hands together, ready to get it on. “All right, let’s drink, take pics, and see if you can dance. We are blowing up social media tonight.”

  “I’m ready,” Jace said, grasping my hand with a grin. I followed him to the bar where he ordered up to two imports. We grabbed a table to people watch while we enjoyed our beer, while snapping a few pics, to post the obligatory Snap to our friends as well as check-in on Insta, before heading to the air hockey table where I planned to annihilate Jace.

  “I should probably confess that I’m terribly competitive,” I said, seconds after scoring, my grin savage.

  But Jace didn’t seem worried. “Good because I’d hate to go easy on you just because you’re a girl,” he said, pulling the puck and serving with a quick snap of his wrist, sending the plastic disc flying across the metal table.

  “Ohhh, no you didn’t,” I said, blocking the puck before it could slip into my zone, sending it back his way. “I’ll have you know I crush at air hockey. Prepare to be humiliated.”

  “Keep talking, Cara-With-The-Legs-For-Days, because you’re about to go down,” he vowed.

  I howled as the puck slipped past me, giving him the point. Growling, I served the puck lightning-fast sending it straight down his alley, catching him off-guard.

  “Damn, you got me on that one,” he said but he was coming for me. This wasn’t going to be an easy victory and that turned me on. I hated easy wins. Go big or go home. My mom was always nagging at me that I was too competitive — game night with my cousins had always erupted into some kind of drama when we were kids — but I hated to lose. But what was the point of playing if you didn’t play to win?

  I liked that Jace wasn’t going easy on me. I loved that I was one point ahead of him.

  I was beating him.

  My heart was thundering. One more point and I had the win.

  But Jace wanted it, too. I saw the competitive glint in his eyes, the same reflection in mine — we were two peas in a pod — that’s why we were better as friends, of course. I took the shot
. Ha! Oh no! The puck banked hard off the edge and skated free from the slot bouncing from the drop and Jace tipped it back toward me, sending the puck hurtling down my chute, ending the game.

  Fuck. I’d lost.

  “Noooooo!”I stomped my feet but even though I was pissed as hell, when Jace pulled me into his arms, my natural anger at losing, dissipated and I melted a little like a dopey girl when those lips touched mine for a quick victory kiss. I smiled against his mouth, saying, “You’re buying me another beer.”

  “Anything for you, loser,” he said.

  I fake punched him in the gut. Not that it would’ve hurt him even if I’d really tried to punch him. A six-pack was hiding under that T-shirt. Suddenly, the spit dried up in my mouth and I really needed that beer because a serious case of dry-mouth was making it hard to talk. “I will require a rematch,” I called out as Jace went to get our beers. I slid into the booth to wait for him, grabbing my phone to see what kind of traffic our little social media show had created.

  Not bad, quite a few likes and comments. Operation: Fuck Our Exes was off to a roaring success. Jace returned with two thick foamy beers. “This place was a great idea,” he said, sliding mine over to me. “I’ve never had time to check it out before now.”

  I nodded. “Me either.” I showed him the evidence of our social media coup. “So far, so good.”

  “Good, good. Hey, so tell me about your ex…what happened? Give me the backstory so I know some details.”

  I didn’t want to talk about Drake but I supposed it was necessary. “We were high school sweethearts,” I said, cringing. I used to love our story but now it sounded stupid. Everyone used to tell us that we were too young but at the time we’d thought we were going to beat the odds. Now, I saw how completely naive I’d been to think that I’d found my one true love. Ick. As if that actually existed. I blinked back sudden tears. I covered by taking a long slug of my beer. Time to reveal my private shame. “Anyway, we went to separate colleges but one weekend I thought to surprise him. Well, I showed up at his dorm and I was the one who got the surprise when I found him getting a blow job by some blonde. I don’t remember much after that. I ran out of there. It was pretty traumatic.”