“That’s tougher.”
“Okay, then what do you know?”
“Word searches. I know how to solve a Rubik’s Cube in seconds. I know the difference between Coke, Diet Coke, Coke Zero, and the pure shit that is Pepsi.”
“Dear God,” she mutters and looks away.
“I also know a lot about green roofs,” I continue, sidestepping her clear irritation.
“What are green roofs?”
“It’s a partially covered or fully covered roof of vegetation. They’re great for cities because they help reduce the heat island effect by reducing sunlight, and they help cool the buildings surrounding them. Not to mention they clean the air, reduce energy consumption and water runoff, and they have psychological benefits.”
“Okay, sure, you do green roofs.”
“I can see someone cares about the planet,” I say offhandedly.
“Please, Wilder.” She takes a deep breath. “I’m just trying to make it through this hour. Once this is done, we can go on our merry ways and never see each other again.”
“I wouldn’t say never. Your best friend is my brother. If he ever gets married, we’ll definitely see each other, unless there’s a falling-out between the two of you.”
“You know what I mean. This, us, we won’t have to play these parts again. Okay?”
“What if I need you to return the favor in a fake marriage scheme?”
“Then obviously, we’d see each other again, but that’s only because I would feel the need to do so.”
“Good to know.”
“Now, are you ready? Or do you have any other questions?”
“Nah, let’s do this.” I rub my hands together and then follow my fake wife up the street to our first marriage counseling session.
Let the games begin.
Chapter Four
SCOTTIE
This was a terrible idea.
Probably one of the worst I’ve ever had.
I should have just told Ellison the truth yesterday, that I spoke out of turn, forgot that I got divorced, and that I won’t make that mistake again. Instead, here I am riding up an elevator with a man I don’t even know to share a marriage counseling session.
And what the hell is wrong with Mika?
Why didn’t he ever tell me that his brother is a hipster version of Prince Eric? I wasn’t expecting such a…such an attractive man to show up. The gene pool in that family is incredibly impressive. Black hair peeks out from his knitted beanie, a square jawline dusted in black scruff, and the lightest gray eyes I’ve ever seen. I had to look away a few times because they were so unique. Mika’s are gray, but they’re not this light.
When Mika offered up his brother as Tribute, I was thinking that a squid of a man who sells apps with gelled-back hair wasgoing to show up in a suit, ready to play pretend, but this…this I was not expecting.
He’s tall, probably six feet, maybe six two. His shoulders and biceps pull against the threadbare cotton of his about-to-fall-apart shirt that probably costs three hundred dollars. His waist is narrow, causing his pants to sag ever so slightly off his hips, and his black Converse have seen better days. And then there’s his tattoo. Inked on his right forearm just below his elbow are three solid black rings that wrap around his arm like bracelets.
But that’s not the worst of it.
Nope, it’s the lip ring.
On the right corner of his mouth is a small black ring that wraps around his lip. I zeroed in on it the moment he started tugging on it with his teeth. The movement made me feel embarrassingly weak in the knees. It’s a lip ring, yet here I am, panting and bouncing my leg up and down.
