Cheesy on the Eyes: Fake Dating Romcom (Slice Book 5)

by Teagan Hunter

  And I believe I have my work cut out for me.

  She’s a coffee aficionado, but she hates coffee-flavored ice cream. Her favorite flavor happens to be plain old vanilla, which is surprising given her love of sweets. I thought for sure she’d be all over those crazy flavors that combine candy chunks and peanut butter chocolate swirls and the like, but she surprised me yet again.

  Perhaps the most mind-blowing fact I’ve learned as I pore over the notebook while she stands out on the stern of my ship is that she loves the beach but hates the ocean.

  Funny, because she’s exactly like the ocean: a little rough at times and a whole lot unpredictable. She’s loud yet calming. Lively, but I know there are dark edges to her.

  I want to find every one of them.

  I watch her as she crosses the deck for probably the fiftieth time, her short legs not holding her back from moving quickly. Her honey brown hair swishes back and forth, the bob curlier today than it was on Sunday.

  She’s adorably feisty and—based on our current arrangement—clearly not afraid of a challenge.

  Stopping in her tracks, her lips move as she reads whatever item on the list has given her pause.

  Then her brows slam together, and I know I’m in for it.

  She yanks the glass door open, her eyes ablaze. “You don’t like Christmas?” She throws her hands up, pacing the deck. “What kind of Ebenezer Scrooge am I dating?”

  Laughing, I rise out of my chair, following her outside.

  The sun is almost gone, and so is the humidity.

  After her first outburst over my list, I sent her outside to read the rest while I began my homework.

  “You don’t like Christmas?” She turns on me the moment I step over the threshold.

  “I can do without it.”

  “What?!” she cries. She screws up her irritated eyes. “‘Can do without it.’ You’re an animal.”

  “Only in the sheets.”

  “How?!” she goes on, ignoring me. “There are picturesque trees and candies and presents and snowmen and Santa. Don’t even get me started on all the beautiful lights strung about.”

  “But there’s no snow…” I point out.

  “Snow is not the point. It’s the spirit!” Another throw of her hands. “That’s the whole idea of it.”

  “You’re really riled up over this.”

  “Well, yeah. It’s a travesty.”

  “And your dislike of pizza isn’t?”

  “Ugh.” She tosses her head back. “I need a damn cookie. You’re stressing me out.”

  She shoves past me into the house only to return a moment later with the whole box. She thrusts it my way, and I drop the binder on the stairs in favor of the goodies.

  “Here. You need one too.”

  “I actually—”

  “I swear, Sully, if you say some silly-ass shit like you don’t like cookies, I will end this right”—she punches the air with her pointer finger—“now.”

  Fighting a smile, I flip open the top of the box and pluck a cookie out, not caring what flavor I’ve grabbed. Closing the lid, I set the box down on the table saw I borrowed from Simon. “I was going to say I love Daisy’s. How’d you know?”

  Hands on her hips, head tipped back and pointed toward the sky, she blows out a relieved breath. “You just saved our entire relationship.”

  “That was a close one.” I take a bite of the cookie and flavor explodes in my mouth. I close my eyes, moaning around the delicious concoction. “Oh, fuck. What is this?”

  When she doesn’t answer, I peel my eyes open and look her way.

  She’s standing there, a little too close, and her gaze is set firmly on my mouth.

  “Thea?”

  She swallows, pulling her eyes to mine. “Can you not?”

  “What?”

  “Do that—the moaning.”

  I chew what’s left in my mouth and swallow it down. Grinning, I say, “Oh, I’m sorry. Is my moaning getting to your…what did you call them? Lady loins?”

  “What?” She curls the corner of her lip. “Ew. No. It’s just annoying.”

  Her mouth is saying one thing, but the nipples very clearly poking through her tight shirt say differently.

  Thea’s turned on.

  “Mmhmm. Whatever you say.” I wipe at my mouth, making sure I have all the bits of crumbs off.

  She puckers her lips and pops open the lid, inspecting the cookies. “It was maple-glazed apple crisp.”

  “That’s my new favorite.” I pat my stomach as I rest against the boat. “Man, I fucking love Daisy’s.”

  “Aside from the shop, it’s my most favorite place on the island.”

  “Speaking of the shop… I’m curious how that came about. Did your dad make you work there when you were a teen and you just decided to stay? Or did something else draw you to the trade?”

  She smiles warmly, taking a seat on the stairs. “It actually all started with a flat tire when I was six, if you can believe it.”

  “Something that simple?”

  Her head bobs up and down. “Yep. It triggered my love for learning about cars and working with my hands. I became my dad’s shadow in the shop. He never had to ask me to work—I happily volunteered.”

  “What’s your favorite kind of car?”

  She points to the binder. “I covered that in section three, I believe.”

  “Forget the binder and the lists. I want to hear this stuff from you.”

  “Isn’t…” She licks her lips, her hands fidgeting. “Isn’t that a little…less clinical?”

  “Clinical isn’t a word I’d use to describe any of my relationships.”

  “This isn’t a relationship,” she argues.

  “We’re selling it as one.” I push off the boat, and before I know it, I’m standing in front of her. Hell, I’m practically between her legs. “I’m supposed to be your boyfriend, right?”

  She nods, peering up at me with unsure eyes. “Right.”

  “Then we can’t be clinical. We need to be intimate.” Resting my hands on the railing, I lean down until I’m at eye level. “Can you do that? Can you be intimate with me?”

  She opens her mouth to speak, and I know whatever she says will be an argument.

  “Intimate doesn’t mean sex, before you even bring that up. Being intimate can mean talking. Becoming friends, revealing secrets, being real—can we be real, Thea?”

  Her lips part as her lush green eyes bore into me, and I see the faintest hint of trepidation.

  More so, though, I see want.

  I see yearning.

  I see desire.

  I see everything I know is swirling in my own eyes staring back at me.

  Just three inches.

  If I move just three inches, I could kiss her. I could see if she tastes as sweet as she smells.

  “We want to sell this thing, so we can be real.”

  I push away from her before I do something stupid. “Then let’s be real.”

  “I’m still not sleeping with you, though.”

  I peek back at her as I return to my safe spot—across the boat and away from her. “Whatever you say, Thea.”

  Thea: I know this is last minute, but any chance you’re free tonight?

  Sully: Is this you begging?

  Thea: What? Why would I beg?

  Thea: Oh. For sex.

  Thea:

  Sully: I guess that’s a no.

  Sully: I can be free if you need me to be.

  Thea: Good.

  Thea: We’re seeing a movie with my brother and his fiancée.

  Sully: You want me to hang out with an NFL superstar? You really should have led with that.

  Thea: You know, usually I use my brother’s stardom to my advantage on dating apps, but it’s just annoying when you fawn.

  Sully: Tsk, tsk. It looks like someone didn’t read my list.

  Thea: I thought we were being real?

  Thea: Okay, wait
—YOU DON’T LIKE FOOTBALL EITHER?

  Thea: I’m seriously starting to regret this.

  Sully: Just now?

  Thea: UGH.

  Thea: Can we meet at the shop at 6? I’ll drive.

  Sully: I can do that.

  I glance at the clock in the corner of my laptop screen. Thea wasn’t kidding about this being a last-minute thing. I only have an hour to shower, get ready, and be at Schwartz Auto.

  Luckily it’s nearby.

  I push up out of my chair and make my way to the guest bathroom since I’m still in the middle of renovating mine. The only complaint I have so far about living on a houseboat is the bathroom being tiny as fuck, especially for somebody of my stature.

  I turn the water on and strip while I wait for it to warm. When it’s at a bearable temperature, I step under the stream, sighing as the water runs over my aching muscles.

  After staying up way too late working, I tossed and turned all night, unable to get my mind to settle. It wasn’t any one thing keeping me up, but my thoughts were bouncing from Thea to my dad, back to Thea, to the renovations I still need to do…and back to Thea, because I can’t seem to get her off my mind.

  My lack of sleep didn’t stop me from rising at my usual early hour and heading down to the beach. Sleep or no sleep, there is no way I would miss being out on the water before sunrise to see her peek over the water’s edge. I rode the waves for nearly an hour straight before taking a break. As soon as the beach started filling with tourists, I booked it back here and dove into renovations before the summer sun became too much.

  Tired as hell, I lay down for a nap. As soon as I drifted off, I was woken by a call from my mom—the third one this week.

  After that, it was nearly impossible to fall asleep.

  I’m exhausted, but the moment Thea’s name popped up on my phone, I knew I wouldn’t be able to say no to whatever it was she wanted.

  I’m just too damn intrigued by her.

  She might have agreed to be real with me the other night, but that didn’t stop her from bolting the first chance she got. It took all of five minutes for her to find an excuse to leave, and I haven’t seen her since.

  I thought for sure it would be another few days before I heard from her again with how quickly she fled, but I guess I shouldn’t be surprised by her doing the exact opposite of what I expect. That seems to be her thing.

  I make quick work of washing my hair and body, then step out of the shower. I wrap a towel around me and head for my bedroom.

  “Oh.”

  I whirl toward the unexpected visitor, clutching my towel tightly but ready to drop it and defend myself if I need to because nobody wants to fight a naked person, dick swinging in the air.

  When I see who it is, I relax. “What the hell are you doing here?”

  “I, uh…I knocked and called your name a few times but didn’t hear an answer. The door was open, so I just…” She lifts a shoulder.

  “Broke in?” I arch a brow.

  “Technically, there was no breaking. I just walked in.”

  “So you’re trespassing.”

  “If that’s what you want to call it, then yes.” Her lips twitch.

  “I thought I was meeting you at the shop, Thea.”

  She tucks her hair behind her ear, one hand stuffed in the pocket of her long black skirt. Her light gray tee reads: That’s a horrible idea…what time? It’s fitting, given our agreement.

  “That was the plan until Jonas called and said his dumb ass got the time wrong. We have to leave in ten. I tried calling,” she explains.

  “I was in the shower.”

  I don’t miss the way her eyes scroll down my half-covered body. I don’t miss her teeth sinking into her bottom lip, and I don’t miss the lust in her eyes.

  My dick starts to swell as her eyes sweep lower and lower…and lower still.

  “Are you enjoying yourself?”

  Her eyes bounce to mine, not an ounce of embarrassment or shame in them. “I don’t not like what I see.”

  There she goes, surprising me again.

  “How long?”

  “Standard or metric?”

  She snorts. “I meant, how long for you to get ready?”

  “Sure you did.” I smirk. “Give me five.”

  I dash into my bedroom, pulling on a pair of jeans and a short-sleeved, plain black V-neck tee to match. I check myself in the mirror. I don’t have time to shave, so my five-o’clock shadow will just have to do. Running my fingers through my still wet hair, I push it back, noting I need a cut. A hat it is.

  When I’m as good as I’m going to get, I slip my favorite cap over my head, grab my socks, and head back to the main room.

  “Four forty-two,” Thea announces when I emerge.

  “You were timing me?” I ask as I sit down at the table where I left my shoes and start pulling my socks on.

  “It was either that or snoop.”

  I peek at her as she scours the contents of my fridge. “Looks like you managed to accomplish both.”

  “What?” she asks, grabbing one of the few sweets I have in my fridge: pudding. “I was feeling snacky.”

  “Breaking and entering, trespassing, and theft—you’re on a roll tonight.”

  I don’t care that she’s stealing my food. If anything, I like that she’s comfortable enough around me to just help herself.

  She peels the foil cover off the cup, licking the excess pudding off before tossing it into the trash. “We’re dating now. What’s yours is mine.”

  “Pretty sure that’s the rule for marriage, not dating.”

  “Dating, married—same thing.”

  I laugh. “Not even close.” I motion toward the snack in her hand. “Need a spoon?”

  “Nah. I can eat it like this on the way to the car. You ready?”

  I slip my second shoe on my foot and stand. “For an evening with a rulebreaker like you, I’m not so sure.”

  “Oh, come on. I promise not to break any more rules tonight.”

  “Not a single one?”

  She lifts her hand, doing the Vulcan salute. “Scout’s honor.”

  “You know that’s not what that means, right?”

  “Yeah, but I can never remember if Scout’s honor is two or three fingers, so I just do the one everyone knows.”

  “I…I have no words.”

  “You’re not the first person to say that to me.” She winks. “Let’s go. I’m not the only Schwartz who is a stickler for being punctual.”

  “After you.” I wave her out the door.

  As I lock it, she says, “Oh, good call. I hear there are people out here just randomly walking onto people’s boats.”

  “I heard that rumor too. The suspect is about five foot two, cute, and sassy as shit.”

  “So you’re saying you think I’m cute?”

  “I don’t not like what I see.”

  She grins. “Come on. I’m parked in the lot.”

  We make our way up the docks to the parking lot, and I almost trip twice watching her lick the pudding from the cup.

  “Sure you don’t want me to drive?” I offer when we hit the asphalt, looking for any distraction so I don’t have to watch her dip her tongue into the cup again.

  Maybe if I keep her distracted, she won’t notice my hardening dick.

  “What do you drive?” she asks, dipping her finger into the container and sliding it along the sides to get all she can from it. “Better not be anything lame.”

  She pops her finger in her mouth, sucking it clean before going back for more.

  Yeah, there is no way she won’t notice my dick now.

  Swallowing the sudden lump in my throat, I point toward my old beat-up truck. “It’s that one.”

  “A danger Ranger? And not even a V6?” She curls her lip at it. “Yep, that’s lame.”

  Lucky for me, she finishes off the rest of the pudding and tosses the empty container into a nearby trash can.

  “Hey, that old thing is s
till chuggin’. Give her some credit.”

  After my dad went to prison, money got tight. I didn’t think I’d ever get my own car to drive, but I scrimped and saved and, with a little help from the old man who was selling it, I bought her on my seventeenth birthday. She’s been holding together with hopes and dreams since, and though I can certainly afford it now, I can’t bring myself to upgrade.

  “Oh, she gets credit for that, but not for anything else.”

  “It’s a manual,” I counter.

  “Okay, okay.” She nods appreciatively. “Points for not bitching out on an auto-tragic.”

  “I take it you’re driving, then?”

  “Yep, because my car is cool.”

  “Which one is it?” I ask, scanning the lot.

  “Guess,” she says.

  I know exactly which car it is the moment I spot it. It’s the same one I thought I saw covered in the shop.

  And damn am I excited to get in it.

  “Oh, that’s easy,” I say. “It has to be that one.” I point toward a gold minivan. “Right?”

  She glares at me. “I know you’re just fucking with me, but how dare you.”

  Laughing, I place my hand on the small of her back, leading her toward the car I know is hers.

  “That’s a much better guess,” she says as we approach her vehicle. “A 1968 Mustang GT Fastback. It’s a three—”

  “Three hundred ninety V8 four-speed manual with 325 horsepower.” I check out the famous lines of the body, looking over all the details that went into restoring this beauty. “A Bullitt, right down to the Highland Green paint job.”

  The color matches her wide eyes, which are staring at me.

  “What?” I ask. “Did I get something wrong?”

  “No. I just wish I’d worn panties so I could throw them at you.”

  I don’t bother trying to hide my smirk. “Are you not wearing any panties, Thea?”

  “I’m not telling you that.”

  But her grin says it all.

  She’s not.

  “I get to drive, right?” I ask.

  She barks out a derisive laugh. “Hell no.” Pointing to the passenger side, she says, “That is the only place you sit. Get in.”

  We climb inside and Thea twists the key in the ignition. The car comes to life, rumbling under us. She steers us out of the parking lot with confidence and sets us toward our destination.