Damn.It’s been a while since anyone has called me hot, and hearing it from Charlotte catches me off guard. I’ve thought about her for years, fantasized about her for years, wondered what her skin would feel like against mine… for years. I guess that’s why my balls are currently tightening, and my chest is rumbling with heat.
What the fuck is happening to me? I’m like a fucking werewolf trying to suppress the need to hunt.
I could tell myself to get a grip, but I don’t know if that’s realistic at this point. Not when I’ve wanted Charlotte for so long.
“Let’s do dinner tonight. We can get a little more comfortable with each other, and you can tell me everything I need to know. Sound like a plan?” The second the words leave my lips, I feel like some kind of weirdo. Maybe it’s because I know on my side, none of this is innocent. I’m not here to help. I’m here to claim her.
She swallows hard and tugs my coat off her curved frame, exposing the hard not to notice nipples beneath the fabric of her dress. “Are you sure? I mean, my mom is really bad. I’m warning you.”
I shake my head and open the office door, reality sinking in that even though this is fake, the guys are never going to let me live this down. “I’ll pick you up here after five. We can walk up to the diner.”
She nods slowly as though she’s not fully convinced this is the best course of action. Truth be told, I’m not sure it is either, but a shot is a shot, and there’s no way in hell I’m not taking this one.
Chapter Three
Charlotte
“He did what now?” My friend Maya stares at me through narrowed eyes as she twists a strand of bright red hair in circles around her index finger. “So, you’re like officially dating or is this pretend?”
“Shh…” I hold my finger over my lips and glance around the room as though someone is listening, then plop down in my office chair. “It’s pretend… I think.”
Maya grins. “What do you mean, you think?”
“I mean… he said I was attractive, I said he was hot, then we were walking and talking, and everything felt really natural.”
Maya’s eyes widen. “Oh damn. You should let this happen. I know your natural instinct is to fight this, but think of all the possibilities. The work perks, the street cred that comes with owning your own personal giant, the jawline your future sons will inherit. This is a no-brainer.”
I roll my eyes and stare at my computer. The one that I should be typing on and getting actual work done with. “There are no future sons. This is a one-time thing.”
“Yeah, have you met Jake? He barely talks to anyone, and I’veneverheard of him ever having a girlfriend, so I doubt he’s just playing around. Did you tell him about the social media profile yet? He should know about that one.”
I squeeze my eyes shut and pull my phone from my purse. “I forgot about my socials. I have to delete that page.”
“No way!” She laughs. “That’s the funniest part of this whole thing.”
“I don’t think he’s going to think it’s funny that I’ve created a fake world for us on social media.” I stare down at the pictures that I made of us together in Photoshop. They look so real, it’s sort of scary. “I mean, I’m pretty sure this takes somethingsort ofcrazy and turns it into somethingverycrazy.”
“Maybe,” Maya laughs, “but it’s also endearing.”
“Ha! No one is going to think this is endearing.” I twist my phone toward her. “I made a picture of us ice fishing, with a caption that we had a great time when he brought fresh fruit and we caught three pike.”
“Oh my God,” Maya holds her stomach as she laughs harder, “you really don’t need him at all. A couple more months and you guys would’ve had counterfeit kids, a fake wedding, and an imaginary honeymoon in France.”
“I was thinking Rome but…”
“You could do both with your magic photographer.”
“I’m going to delete the page. I’d be mortified if someone shared one of these pictures. I mean, what was I thinking?”
She shrugs and laughs low as she says, “You’re creative, that’s all. Your medium isn’t watercolor, it’s Photoshop.”
“Or maybe my medium is lies because I seem to be telling a lot of them lately.”
“They’re not real lies. They’re… stories. Simple, interesting, little tales. Trust me, I get it.” She twists her computer screen toward me, showing off a photo of her and a man that looks an awful lot like Holden, one of the part owners of the business. They’re kissing. Like,reallykissing. Like, her hand is in his beard, and his fist is in her hair.
“Please tell me youmadethat?” My mouth hangs open as I wait for a response.
“Nope. That’s one hundred percent me making bad decisions.”
