Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 125257 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 626(@200wpm)___ 501(@250wpm)___ 418(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125257 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 626(@200wpm)___ 501(@250wpm)___ 418(@300wpm)
“The moment called for it,” he says.
Is it wrong if I hope the moment calls for a kiss again? “Good thing you listened to the moment.”
“I always do.” The man is seriously delivering on the fake boyfriend role. Like above and beyond.
We make our way to the picnic table, leaving the photographer in our wake. Lake keeps his hand on the small of my back, like we outlined at Costco, but somehow it feels like bending the rules of fake dating. Maybe because it’s delicious and tingly, and I want so much more of it.
But you can’t have it. Or him. That’s not what this is. This is fake.
Reality is seriously irritating.
As we near the party, Lake brushes my hair out of the way and says, “If it’s FWP, then fucknozzle will be here.”
I wince. “I know.”
Lake circles his arm around my waist now, like he’s kicking things up a notch. “Have I told you that you look stunning?”
He said as much when he drove me over here. He’s probably saying it to keep my spirits high. But I like Lake’s compliments, so I eat this one up happily. “A few times,” I say, as we pass purple hellebores on the way to the enemy.
“Because it’s true,” he says.
My heartbeat dares to speed up. But I can’t let my mind be tricked into thinking this fake thing with Lake is real, like my body seems to want. I lean into the playfulness instead. “My, my, you are very super boyfriend-y.”
He pulls back for a second to look at me, like he’s measuring my words and weighing if they add up, but his gaze snaps to the crowd.
I catch an annoying glimpse of Jameson and his floppy undercut, his light blue shirt, his ever-present vest. He’s chatting with Parker, smiling, laughing in that gregarious way he has. He’s twenty feet away now, and any second, we’ll have to do the FWP photos together.
Jameson’s head turns my way, and a second later, he’s taking me in, then boom—he pads across the grass toward me.
Grinning.
Like I’m his long-lost bud.
My stomach churns with dread. This is my first time seeing him since the Jumbotron Dump. I knew this moment was coming, but it doesn’t make it sting any less. That’s the man I was going to say yes to. The man I thought I loved. The man who only wanted to be friends.
But as Jameson comes closer, I don’t feel any more than the residual singe of embarrassment. I don’t feel…much of anything else. Immediately, I know two things. One, we weren’t sparky, fiery, passionate lovers when we were together. And two, I don’t miss him now that we’re apart.
When he reaches me, I go first, since it feels important to set the pace with a cool and professional tone. “Hi, Jameson.”
My ex smiles, glancing from Lake to me and back. “Hey, Remy. Is this your new dude?”
“Yeah,” Lake says, standing taller even though he towers above Jameson. “I’m her boyfriend.”
My cells shimmy from the way he throws down. No bullshit. No games. Just a clear message. The preemptive strike my sister wanted.
“That is so awesome,” Jameson says, and he sounds like he’s happy for me, but almost a little too much. “I was really hoping you’d find someone quickly. And look at you. You did it. Go you.”
I rewind his words and there’s something a little…overly gregarious about them. Maybe he’s trying to keep the peace? I just don’t know. I suppose it’s better than the alternative—him being a total dick. “Yay me,” I say.
Lake cinches an arm around me, nodding to Jameson. “And thank you, man. Remy’s a goddess, and I wasn’t going to miss my shot to be with her.”
And hello, possessive man stealing focus once more. I want to run my nails down his chest. To grab him by the shirt collar. To say mine, mine, mine. “You’re the best,” I say, then what the hell? I give a little tug of his shirt collar.
Who is this possessive demon inside of me? I was never possessive with Jameson. But I like it.
“This is just so great,” Jameson gushes, ruining my demon glow-up. “I love this for you. I started seeing someone too.”
I glance around, looking for the hoptimist. “Where is she?”
“Oh, Chelsea couldn’t make it. She had a thing at her brewery. But hey, why don’t we all set up a double date?”
My jaw comes unhinged. Jameson’s leaning seriously hard into this I’m a good guy and let’s be friends image. I bet it’s all for show. For his bar. For the optics.
I’m tempted to tilt my head and say in a too-sweet tone, “Do you want me to break out the bracelet kit and we can make a matching pair?”
But if I activate my sarcasm, I’ll look like a serious jerk at my sister’s event. I don’t have to, though, since Lake tugs me closer so I’m flush against him. He heaves a sigh, like he regrets this so damn much, then shakes his head at Jameson. “Thanks for the invite, but I don’t share. Even our dates.”