I can see in her eyes she won’t relent until I come up with something. I have nothing in my life I can’t handle. I’m a self-sufficient person for the most part, and I don’t like relying on others. People do suck.
“You’re a mechanic, right?”
“No, I just look smokin’ hot in coveralls.”
She’s not wrong.
She does look hot.
Like stupid hot.
As in “I’m pretty sure I should stop looking at her body unless I want my dick to start standing at attention” kind of hot.
“My boat could use some TLC, and I have my hands full with other repairs. I wouldn’t complain about some help with the engine.”
“So, you want free labor? Which I normally charge a pretty penny for?”
“Essentially, yes.”
“That’s all?” she probes, and I nod. “And you’ll pretend to be my boyfriend for the wedding and leading up to it?”
“Yep.”
“Even after meeting my family?”
“Yeah,” I reiterate.
She tilts her head. “This is too easy…I don’t trust it.”
“Well, you should, because I’m being serious. I’ll pretend to be your boyfriend or whatever you need if you help me with my boat.”
“That’s it?”
“That’s it. We’ll need to set a few rules, but that seems like a given.”
She nods. “That’s a wise decision. Hand me that wrench and talk.”
I grab said wrench off the nearby toolbox and hand it to her. I watch as she steps onto a stool, her legs so short she needs the extra inches to reach the SUV she’s currently working on. She stretches over the front end and reaches for something near the back.
“Let’s start with the timeline. How long will we have to do this thing?”
“Well, my brother’s wedding is next month, so at least that long. Maybe a week after so it doesn’t look like I hired you to be my boyfriend.”
“Makes sense,” I agree. “How many times will you need me before the big day?”
She sighs, shoving away from the car and throwing her hands up. “I don’t know, Sully. Probably a few. I’m the best man. While my brother is in town, I’m sure we’ll have family things like dinners and such. Since she’s met you, my mom will ride my ass to invite you. Plus, we’ll probably want to hang out a few times and get to know each other so it’s believable.”
“Right, believable that we’re dating and not just friends, because instead of saying something like, Oh, hey, Mom, this is my date to Jonas’ wedding, you threw out the B word, making this incredibly overly complicated.”
She groans. “Why do you keep reminding me of my mistakes? I’m not sitting here going on about how you just made a sexist assumption regarding my profession and grabbed my tit, am I?”
I don’t say anything, because let’s face it, both of those situations were embarrassing as hell.
“That’s what I thought,” she continues. “I could just confess to my mother that you’re not my boyfriend and I made the whole thing up, but you saw her. She was—”
“Ecstatic,” I say, thinking back to her mom’s reaction to my existence. She looked so pleased that her two children were in happy, committed relationships. If Thea’s relationship with her mother is anything like the one I have with mine, she’d do anything to see her happy.
Like essentially hire some random dude to be her boyfriend for her brother’s wedding.
“First rule,” she says when she realizes I won’t rag on her anymore. “No pet names.”
“So no more babe?”
I don’t miss the way she swallows thickly. “No more babe.”
“I’m surprised it’s not No trying to sleep with me.”
She peeks her head up, smirking. “I believe I’ve drilled that into you enough.”
“Speaking of drilling…”
Her eyes widen, and I laugh.
“No drilling me about my past.”
She rises until she’s standing. “Okay, that rule just makes you sound shady as fuck.”
“It doesn’t involve me.” I shrug. “Just my family. I don’t like talking about them.”
She nods. “I can respect that boundary, and since we’re making rules like that, no getting close with mine.”
“So always decline invitations to hang out and look like a total jackass—got it.”
“Shit. When you put it like that…” She pulls at her lips, not caring about the dirt on her hands or the fact that it’s making a mess on her face. “Okay, fine. You can accept invitations and stuff, but don’t be all…chummy.”
“Chummy?”
“You know, like don’t be all buddy-buddy laughing and having a good time.”
“So make them hate me.”
“Oh!” She snaps her fingers. “That’s perfect! It’ll make our breakup more believable!”
I frown, and she blows out a breath.
“Fine. Whatever. Just be yourself. For all I know you, you suck.”
“And you wouldn’t know because I’m a stranger.”
She pins me with a stare. “Rule three…”
“I think we’re on like four now or something.”
“Sully…”
I laugh. “Sorry, continue.”
“Rule…whatever. No kissing on the mouth, and no getting handsy. You can hold my hand or put your arm around me and like kiss my forehead or something, but no groping me…again.”
“It would be weird if I didn’t touch you at all, so that I can do. Just no tit grabs.”
“No tit grabs,” she says. “Another rule: no telling people this is fake.”
I nod. “Because then we’d have to remember who knows and who doesn’t. Smart.”
“Right, and this is a small town and my parents’ ears are wide open to gossip. We have to make this—”
“Believable, I heard you.” I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Maybe we should make a couple lists of basics and exchange them. You know, things we should know about each other, like the fact that you’re a walking abomination who doesn’t like pizza.”
“I’ll break up with you right here, I swear it.”
“Liar. You need me too much.”
“Shit,” she mumbles. “Good point. Okay, so the last rule I can think of for now is—”
“What? I can’t add another rule?”
“If you interrupt me one more time, I swear…” She mutters something I can’t quite make out, then looks at me pointedly. “Do you have another rule to add?”
“No.”
She growls, and it’s so cute coming out of her tiny frame that it takes my all not to laugh. “If at any time this becomes too real for either of us, we call it off.”
“Too real like…”
“Feelings, Sully. If you start having feelings for me—and not just ones in your pants—then we’re done. I don’t have time to date right now. I’m just too busy. Hence me being here on a Sunday.”
She’s covering her heartbreak with that excuse. I can feel it. She’s too afraid to get back out there, letting her busy work schedule control her life to avoid putting her heart on the line again.
I won’t argue with her rule though. I’m not looking for anything serious. Sure, all my friends are settling down and starting families with their wives, but that doesn’t mean I have to jump on that bandwagon. I’m happy. I’m good. Why mess up a good thing?
“So you’re saying it’s inevitable I’ll have—what was it? Feelings in my pants? Someone has a big ego.”
Another growl.
This time I do laugh, squeezing my eyes shut and tossing my head back. “Holy fuck, this idea sounds completely ridiculous. We’re so screwed.”
“It’s easily the worst idea I’ve ever had,” she agrees.
She’s right. This is a horrible idea. Absolutely fucking bonkers.
If she thinks this scheme will be pulled off flawlessly, she’s mental. We’ll stumble…a lot. Still, it’s obvious she’s ba
cked herself into a corner, and I’d much rather her be stuck fake-dating me than some weirdo out there she found on an app.
Besides, what’s the harm in a little make-believe? It’s not like I’m going to fall in love with her.
“We’re doing this?”
“Yep,” she answers quickly.
I’m not certain if it’s because she’s one hundred percent sure about this, or because she’s too afraid to give herself time to back out of it, leaving her to disappoint her parents.
I exhale heavily. “Okay. Fine. I agree to all your terms. Let’s do this.” I smack my hands together, getting myself pumped up. “We should probably shake on it. My friend Porter has this thing about making deals and shaking on it.”
“It’s just good business practice,” Thea says, like we’re in Business 101.
She hops off the stool, and I cross the short distance to her.
We stand about a foot apart.
“I feel like we should say something.”
“Banana hammock.”
Thea sputters out a laugh. “What the fuck?”
“What?” I shrug. “You said we should say something. That’s the first thing I thought of.”
“Is it weird this is the moment I’m truly questioning my decisions?”
“If by weird you mean extremely alarming, then yes.”
Her lips pull up and she sticks her hand out. “I, Thea Schwartz, promise to be the best fake girlfriend you’ve ever had. If for any reason I cannot contain my lady loins, I’ll respectfully bow out and tell my mother this was all a ruse.”
I blink at her, unsure what to address first. “I have so many questions regarding what you just said, but I’ll start with the most basic. Is Thea not short for anything?”
“It is, but only old ladies call me it, and you’re not an old lady, so you don’t need to know.” She shakes my hand impatiently, and I toy with the idea of drawing this out longer, enjoying the touch of her skin against mine. “Your turn.”
I take a deep breath, because I know once I do this, I’m in it.
“I, Sullivan, promise—”
“No, no. You have to say your last name or it doesn’t count. It’s kind of an important fact to know about you.”
And here I was hoping she’d let it slide.
Truth is, I fucking loathe my last name. It’s the only connection I have to my father anymore, and I’d much rather I didn’t have any at all.
I tried to change it a few years ago, but when I approached my mother about it, I could tell it would break her heart if I went through with it. So, I didn’t. Now I’m stuck with it.
“Fine.” I tug her closer, and she doesn’t fight it. Leaning toward her, I vow, “I, Sullivan Scott, promise to be the best fake boyfriend you’ve ever had. If for any reason I cannot contain my dangly bits, I’ll dump you publicly and horribly so your parents will never be the wiser and I’ll be the asshole they can hate for eternity.”
“Oh, I like that. Nice touch.”
We pump our hands up and down a few times before dropping them.
Only we don’t part immediately.
She’s still standing close enough for me to smell the hint of apple and something sweet I know I love but can’t quite name.
Thea sticks her hands in her back pockets, her coveralls stretching across her chest. A button pops open, and I avert my gaze.
Don’t look at her chest. Don’t look at her chest. Don’t you fucking look, you perv.
She clears her throat, drawing my attention. “So we’re dating now.”
She says it so matter-of-factly, and I smirk. “I guess we are.”
“We should maybe exchange numbers or something.”
“That would be best. I’ll try not to spill beer all over it this time.”
“Good call.”
She pulls her phone from her pocket, taps in her passcode, and types my number in as I rattle it off.
My phone goes off just as she slides hers back into her pocket.
“That’s me,” she says. “I texted you so you’ll have my number.” She peeks up at me through the chunk of hair that’s fallen out from behind her ear. “Do you, um, want to maybe get together later? Not tonight, but maybe this week?”
Get together.
“I’d like that.”
“We could exchange those lists.”
“Good idea. The sooner we get all the facts memorized, the better.”
“Right.”
We’re back to standing around awkwardly.
Thea rocks back on her heels. I jam my hands into my pockets to keep from reaching out and sliding the button back into place.
She looks everywhere but at me, and I want nothing more than to study her, but it doesn’t seem fair.
“So,” she finally says after a long pause.
Another rock back.
“So,” I echo, shoving my hands deeper.
“I guess this is it for the night.”
“Yep.”
I stick my hand out to shake hers again, because it feels appropriate during a businesslike transaction such as this.
She moves in for a hug.
I knife her in the stomach with my fingers.
“Shit. Sorry,” I mutter. “My bad. I didn’t realize we were hugging.”
Laughing, she pulls back, sticking her hand out just as I go in for a hug.
We collide again.
“Fucking hell,” she grumbles.
“We’re awful at this.”
“So bad.” She shoves her loose hair back. “High five?”
She holds her hand up, and I do what any reasonable person would do.
“TURKEY!” I yell, shoving my fist sideways against her palm, sticking my thumb out to make a turkey.
“What the…” She shakes her head, eyes wide with shock. “What is that?”
“It’s a hand turkey.”
“I’ve never heard of that before.”
“Seriously? It’s like the best type of high five ever.”
“It’s…something.”
“I don’t know, Thea, I think we just found our cutesy couple thing.”
“Cutesy couple thing?” she asks.
“Yeah, you know what I mean. Every couple has one, like those couples who finish each other’s—”
“Milkshakes?”
I twist my lips together, scratching at the beard beginning to grow on my face. Damn, I need to shave. “Yeah, sure. Definitely meant milkshakes.”
“I’m kidding. I know what you mean. Like those couples who do yoga together and shit.”
“They do yoga and take shits together? Wow. That’s dedication.”
She huffs. “Sully…”
“Thea…” I say, mimicking her tone.
Slowly, a grin curves her full, dusty rose lips. “Show me the hand turkey again, will you?”
Slice Seven
Thea
Sully: Want to come over tonight?
Thea: For?
Sully: Sex. Obviously.
Sully: Or to go over our lists.
Thea: Oh.
Thea: Yeah, tonight is good for me. What time?
Thea: WAIT. To your house? Like…alone?
Sully: I do live alone, so yes.
Sully: Though I do have other reasons for inviting you to my place.
Thea: Sex, right?
Sully: Naturally.
Sully: Also, I live on a houseboat, and that’s what needs motor work.
Thea: You could have led with that…
Sully: Hey, Thea! It’s Sully, your fake boyfriend. Want to come over to my houseboat tonight and tinker with the motor you’re contractually obligated to get running?
Thea: Sorry. Busy. Can’t.
Sully: -_____-
Sully: How’s 7 work?
Thea: You’re down on the docks near the shop, right?
Sully: Yep. I’m kind of in the middle, and there’s a flag hanging off the back of the boat. You can’t miss it.
Sully: I’l
l see you at 7?
Thea: We’ll see.
I’ve spent the last two days trying not to think about my new boyfriend or the way my heart started to race whenever he called me babe.
We agreed nothing serious. This is all fake, so I chalked my sudden palpations up to nothing more than the lack of male attention I’ve had lately.
But I’d be a fool to try to deny that the butterflies in my stomach right now have something to do with him seeing as they haven’t settled since Sully’s name popped up on my cell.
Or maybe it’s all the lying to my family I know I’m about to do.
I didn’t lie to him, though.
This is the dumbest idea I’ve ever had. I have no idea why I didn’t just say Sully was a friend or my date for the wedding. No, I had to go straight for the big guns.
Boyfriend.
But when my mom looked at me with those expectant eyes, with that expression that said, Please tell me this is your boyfriend—the one I already lied about having—I did, because I cannot bring myself to crush my mother’s heart. She’s over the moon about Jonas getting married and knocking Frankie up. The last thing I want to do is dampen her spirits.
As much as I love my parents and their almost sickeningly sweet love story that’s spanned thirty-some-odd years, I’ll be the first to admit it’s hard to live up to. I’m sure they aren’t trying to push me to settle down right this second, but I can see it in their eyes: they want Jonas and me to find our version of what they have.
Now that my little brother has found his person, it’s all eyes on me. They’ve been giving me that Your turn look since Jonas announced his engagement earlier this summer. Asshole.
Their interest in my love life is well intentioned, but it’s started to wear on me. Mom’s taken to asking me about all the guys I went to high school with and if they’re still single way too often. My father keeps mentioning how he knows my work schedule must be a strain on my social life. I know they’re talking about me and my lack of bringing home a guy to meet the family behind my back.
When Jonas’ wedding was set for after February, I knew I’d have time to figure it all out. Now that it’s moved up…well, pseudo-hiring a boyfriend will have to do, no matter how crazy it is.
It doesn’t hurt that Sully is really easy on the eyes, and that’s why I’m a ball of nerves walking down the docks to his houseboat.
Cheesy on the Eyes: Fake Dating Romcom (Slice Book 5) Page 7
