Not Pretending Anymore

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Not Pretending Anymore Page 1

by Penelope Ward




  Copyright © 2020 by Penelope Ward and Vi Keeland

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the authors’ imaginations. Any resemblance to actual persons, things, living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental.

  NOT PRETENDING ANYMORE

  Cover designer: Sommer Stein, Perfect Pear Creative

  Edited by: Jessica Royer Ocken

  Formatting and proofreading: Elaine York, Allusion Publishing

  Proofreading: Julia Griffis

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  * * *

  Other Books by Penelope Ward & Vi Keeland

  About the Book

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Epilogue

  Free for Our Readers!

  Acknowledgements

  Other Books by Penelope Ward & Vi Keeland

  Connect with the Authors

  Before You Go!

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  About Penelope Ward

  About Vi Keeland

  OTHER BOOKS BY PENELOPE WARD & VI KEELAND

  * * *

  Park Avenue Player

  Stuck-Up Suit

  Cocky Bastard

  Mister Moneybags

  British Bedmate

  Playboy Pilot

  Rebel Heir

  Rebel Heart

  My Favorite Souvenir

  Hate Notes

  Dirty Letters

  Happily Letter After

  OTHER BOOKS BY PENELOPE WARD

  * * *

  The Crush

  The Anti-Boyfriend

  Just One Year

  The Day He Came Back

  When August Ends

  Love Online

  Gentleman Nine

  Drunk Dial

  Mack Daddy

  RoomHate

  Stepbrother Dearest

  Neighbor Dearest

  Jaded and Tyed (A novelette)

  Sins of Sevin

  Jake Undone (Jake #1)

  Jake Understood (Jake #2)

  My Skylar

  Gemini

  OTHER BOOKS BY VI KEELAND

  * * *

  The Invitation

  The Rivals

  Inappropriate

  All Grown Up

  We Shouldn’t

  The Naked Truth

  Sex, Not Love

  Beautiful Mistake

  Egomaniac

  Bossman

  The Baller

  Left Behind (A Young Adult Novel)

  Beat

  Throb

  Worth the Fight

  Worth the Chance

  Worth Forgiving

  Belong to You

  Made for You

  First Thing I See

  ABOUT THE BOOK

  * * *

  Finding a good roommate through a classified ad isn’t as easy as it sounds.

  I was starting to lose hope.

  Until a knock at my door came and God answered my prayers.

  Except…uh…wrong prayer, God.

  I’d definitely requested the big guy find me a drop-dead gorgeous man on more than one occasion...just not as my roommate.

  Declan Tate talked me into interviewing him anyway.

  While he was amusing and charismatic, I wouldn’t have been comfortable living with a man, so I regretfully declined.

  Then cupcakes showed up at my door—freshly baked by Declan and just as sinfully delicious as he was.

  You could say he was persistent.

  I eventually folded. It wasn’t like I had another viable candidate anyway.

  Plus, I was interested in someone else. And Declan was into another woman. So it wasn’t like anything would happen romantically.

  After he moved in, the two of us became the best of friends. We even started to give each other advice on getting our crushes to notice us.

  Eventually, Declan concocted an idea: we should pretend to be a couple to make our love interests jealous.

  I was hesitant, but went along with it anyway. To my utter shock, his crazy plan worked.

  Now I was dating the supposed man of my dreams, and my best friend had the woman of his.

  But there was one problem.

  I couldn’t stop thinking about Declan.

  Those feelings we were trying to fake?

  Yeah…I wasn’t pretending anymore.

  CHAPTER 1

  * * *

  Molly

  “So, what do you do for a living?”

  The woman drummed her fingers on her thigh. “I’m a musician.”

  I glanced down at the renter’s application in my hand. Lyric Chords was the name listed at the top.

  I bit my tongue and tried to keep an open mind. This was the twelfth woman I’d interviewed as a prospective roommate. Just because she had a few safety pins in her eyebrow and what looked like a dog collar around her neck didn’t mean I should rule her out.

  “Oh. That’s nice. Are you a singer?”

  Lyric shook her head. “Drummer. Do you know the dimensions of the bedroom I’ll be sleeping in? I have two sets of drums I need to fit.”

  “Umm... I think it’s fourteen by fourteen. But you don’t practice at home, right? I wrote in my ad that I’m looking for a quiet roommate because I work nights.”

  “I do. But no worries. I’ll practice in my room.”

  My bedroom and my potential roommate’s bedroom shared a wall, so that was the end of interview number twelve. I sighed and forced a smile. “Thank you for coming. I have a few other people left to meet with before I decide. I’ll let you know.”

  “Great.” The woman stood. “Also, I know your ad said two months’ rent up front, but I’m running a little short right now. Would one be okay?”

  I smiled. “Sure, no problem.” Since you’re not going to be living here.

  After Drummergirl, I interviewed two more candidates. One wanted her boyfriend to move into the room with her, even though my ad had specified I was only looking for a single. And the other arrived twenty minutes late, reeked of alcohol, and slurred her words…at three thirty in the afternoon.

  Why in the hell was it so difficult to find a roommate in a city of almost three-million people? I needed my last interview of the day to be a miracle, or I was going to have to shell out money for another ad and start the entire process all over. And I definitely didn’t have the time or the funds for that. Rent was due in two weeks. If I got stuck paying the ful
l amount on this place myself again, I’d be eating cat food for a month.

  When my last appointment knocked right on time, I took a deep breath, looked up at the ceiling, and asked the big guy in the sky for a little assistance.

  Opening the door, I blinked a few times.

  Uhhh. I think you answered the wrong prayer, God.

  A man stood in my hallway—and not just any man, an absolutely gorgeous one with a perfect, straight nose, cheekbones to die for, a masculine, square jaw, full lips, tanned skin, and the sexiest chocolate brown, almond-shaped eyes I’d ever seen in my life.

  “Uh. Can I help you?”

  He flashed a killer smile, one that I immediately suspected had made countless women remove their panties.

  “Hi. I have a four-thirty appointment with Molly Corrigan.”

  “You do?” I had the last application in my hand and looked down at the name on the top. “I don’t think so. My appointment is with a D. Tate?”

  He extended a hand. “That’s me. Declan Tate.”

  “But…you’re…not a woman.”

  He smiled again. “You’re correct. Very observant. I am most definitely not a woman. But my last roommate told me I should’ve been because I use moisturizer at night and cried at the end of Marley and Me. And if I’m being honest, I also got a little watery at the end of Toy Story, so maybe I’m a bit of a wuss. Either way, I think you should consider those my positive feminine qualities.”

  I was thoroughly confused. “Umm… I’m sorry. You must’ve missed that my ad said female only.”

  “Actually, I didn’t. But if you’ll give me just five minutes, I think I can convince you I would be a better roommate than a woman.”

  I chuckled. “Let me get this straight… You hid your first name—what did you say it was again?”

  “Declan.”

  “Right. Declan. Anyway, you applied to an ad for a female roommate, intentionally deceiving the person who is going to decide if you get the room by leaving your first name off. And your strategy is to convince me I don’t really know what I want in less than five minutes? Do I have that right?”

  He flashed that boyish charm again. “You sure do.”

  I debated how to handle the situation. On one hand, he was going to waste my time, and I had done enough of that today. But on the other, my curiosity was definitely piqued. Something about his grin told me this could be amusing. Screw it. I had nothing better to do anyway.

  I opened the door wider and stepped aside, holding my hand out for him to enter. “I’m setting the timer on my phone, and I’m getting a glass of wine before you start. I like a drink while I’m being entertained.”

  Declan smirked and strolled into my apartment.

  I motioned to the couch. “Have a seat. I’ll just be a minute.”

  When I got to the kitchen, he called after me, “Hey, Mollz?”

  I turned back. “Yes?”

  “How about you make that two glasses of wine?”

  I chuckled. “Sure. Why not, Decs.”

  I poured a couple of glasses of pinot grigio and returned to the living room.

  “Here you go. Hope you like white.”

  “You see? We’re perfect together already. I prefer white over red.”

  I brought my wine to my lips. “Yes, perfect. A match made in heaven. I think we might even be soul mates.”

  Declan showed me his pearly whites once again. He really did have a great smile, nice teeth, too. Too bad he also had a penis. I knocked back half the contents of my glass and placed it on the coffee table. Picking up my cell, I swiped to the timer app and set it for five minutes.

  I showed him the screen. “You ready?”

  “I’m always ready.”

  I pressed start, placed the phone face up on the coffee table between us, and folded my hands. “Go.”

  “Okay. Well…what’s your favorite color?”

  “My favorite color?”

  Declan pointed to the timer. “Time’s a ticking, Molly. I’m going to need you to not repeat questions.”

  I laughed. “Fine. My favorite color is pink.”

  Declan reached into one of his pant pockets and pulled out a set of keys. The keychain had a bunch of pink beads with white letters between each one. The letters spelled out his name. “Mine too.”

  I arched a brow. “Did you make that yourself?”

  “No. My niece, Arianna, made it for me.”

  “So how do I know that isn’t just Arianna’s favorite color?”

  “Good point. Let’s move on. Your ad said you work nights.”

  “That’s right. I’m a nurse. I work the night shift on the maternity ward.”

  “So you sleep during the day, then?”

  “I get off at seven, and I try to get to sleep as soon as I get home.”

  He held his hand to his chest. “I work days. I leave for the gym by six and usually don’t get home until after seven at night. So the apartment will be quiet when you need it to be.”

  I nodded. “Okay. I’ll give you that that would make you a good roommate. But most people work days, so it’s not really something that makes you too special.”

  “Do you cook?” he said.

  “Does macaroni and cheese count?”

  “I grew up in a multigenerational Italian home. My nonna taught me how to make sauce from scratch.”

  “So you’re going to cook for me?”

  “If that’s what it takes to get this apartment, yes.”

  “As tempting as that might be, there’s an Italian restaurant around the corner that makes great food. Funny enough, it’s called Nonna’s Place, and an actual nonna makes most of my meals. Not a knockoff.”

  Declan took an exaggerated breath and blew it out. He glanced at the cell on the table. “Three minutes and thirty-eight seconds. I can see you’re not going to make this easy. How about you tell me why you can’t have a male roommate so I can address that head-on. Is it because of the toilet-seat thing? Because I have four older sisters, so I’m appropriately trained. When I was eight, I made the mistake of leaving it up once, and my sister sat down where I’d accidentally left a little pee. She dunked my head in the toilet bowl before she flushed. That was the last time I left the seat up.” He held up three fingers. “Scout’s honor. It won’t be an issue.”

  I smiled. “It’s not because of the toilet thing.”

  “Alright. So why don’t you want a male roommate, then?”

  I’d actually never given much thought to why my roommate had to be female. It just seemed natural to have another woman sharing the apartment. “Well…I don’t really have a specific reason. I would just be more comfortable living with another woman. For example, I sleep in a T-shirt and underwear. When I get up to start the coffee, I don’t get dressed. It would be weird to do that in front of a man.”

  “Why?”

  “Why would it be weird to walk around with my ass cheeks on display in front of a man and not a woman?”

  “Yes.”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. It just would. I guess because the women I’ve lived with aren’t attracted to other women, so it doesn’t feel sexual in any way.”

  “Ah. Now we’re getting to the crux of your issue. So you’re afraid of some sexual tension going on between you and me? Is it because I’m so handsome?”

  “What? No! And aren’t you full of yourself, assuming I think you’re handsome, and I’m worried I won’t be able to control myself.”

  “Just keeping it real, Mollz. You’re only giving me five minutes, so I’m trying to get to the heart of the reason.”

  “I guess I just don’t want to feel like I have to cover up to come out of my bedroom. When I dry my hair, I wear a towel or a bra and underwear—that type of thing.”

  “Would you feel you had to cover up if I told you I was gay?”

  That question gave me pause. Would I? I wasn’t sure. “Are you?”

  “Fuck, no. I was just trying to pinpoint your issue. Is it the fact
that I’m a man, or the fact that I might admire your ass if it were on display? Sounds like it’s the latter. So let me put your mind at ease: I won’t.”

  I felt oddly offended. “What’s wrong with my ass?”

  He chuckled. “I wouldn’t know. I haven’t looked. You know why?”

  “Why?”

  “Because I’m in love with someone else.”

  As insane as it was, I felt a pang of jealousy. “Oh. Well, why aren’t you moving in with her?”

  “Because she doesn’t return the feelings…yet. So basically, if your concern about having a guy for a roommate is that he’s going to be checking you out, you have nothing to worry about with me. I’m a one-woman man. If you want, I can give you the numbers of some of my exes for references. I’m no cheater.”

  Hmmm… “I don’t know…”

  Declan looked down at the clock. Thirty-one seconds were left. “We’re running out of time, so we need to speed things up. How about if I just give you the facts you need to know?”

  “That would be good.”

  “I’m twenty-eight years old. I make six figures. My credit score is eight hundred and ten, and I have references from previous landlords. I’m neat and clean up after myself. I’m not home a lot, but when I am, I’m pretty quiet. I’m also damn good with a hammer.” He glanced around my apartment and pointed at a hole I’d accidentally made in the wall when I flung the closet door open too hard. “I can spackle that and put on a door stopper so it won’t happen again.” He pointed to the kitchen. “And those cabinets are pretty tall. I’m six foot one. No more having to stand on a chair to reach something on the top shelf. And—”

  The timer on the stopwatch buzzed.

  “Can I just say one last thing?”

  “Sure. Why not?”

  “I’ll share my Hulu and Netflix passwords. I have the premium Hulu account.”

  I laughed. “Well, those are some pretty enticing qualities for a roommate.”

  He smiled. “So I’m in?”

  I sighed. “I’m sorry. While I appreciate your tenacity, unfortunately, you’re not. Though I interviewed fourteen other people today, and I have to say, you do seem like you’ll make some other lucky person a fantastic roomie.”

 

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