How to Marry Your Frenemy (How To Rom Com Series Book 1)

by London Casey

“I know it’s fake,” Cole said.

  “You fucking said something?” I asked Liam.

  Liam shook his head. “No, asshole. He just made you walk into that one.”

  I whipped my head back to Cole.

  He was grinning ear to ear. “Don’t.”

  “So it’s fake?” Cole asked. “I knew it. I told Liam there was no way this was real. What happened? Someone have dirt on you? Or… shit… who did you get pregnant?”

  “Nobody,” I said. “Pregnant? Fuck that.”

  “You have to be careful out there,” Cole said. “Can’t afford a slip up. Ever.”

  “I didn’t get anyone pregnant!” I yelled.

  Half the gym looked at me.

  I gritted my teeth.

  “Jackson, what’s really going on?” Lincoln asked.

  “Might as well just tell them,” Liam said.

  “Well, what fucking choice do I have now?”

  I sat on the oldest bench in the corner of the gym.

  It was the darkest and quietest spot.

  I took deep breaths and my body ached for me to stop lifting weights.

  After giving the guys the rundown of what happened the night before, I sat up straight and looked at them, waiting for their reaction.

  Of course Liam already knew everything.

  He was stone faced.

  “Money,” Lincoln said.

  “More than that,” I said. “I told Liam it’s about my father’s legacy. I need to have control of the company. That’s what this is.”

  “Tell them about her tongue fucking some guy in front of you,” Liam said.

  “Oh, shit, she’s cheating already?” Cole asked with a laugh.

  I stood up and stepped toward Cole.

  He was more hotheaded than me.

  He had no problem coming toward me.

  Lincoln stepped between us. “Gentlemen. Let’s keep it civil.”

  “Don’t ever say that again,” I said to Cole. “About her cheating. About anything with this. It’s my fucking life, not yours.” I looked at Liam. “And, you. What’s your fucking problem?”

  “Oh, come on, Jackson,” Liam said. “We’re your best friends. You’re going to hold back on us now?”

  “Look, we’re still figuring this out,” I said. “Some guy she knows kissed her. Nobody saw though so it’s not that big of a deal.”

  “This is insane,” Lincoln said.

  “It’s not your problem,” I said.

  “Wait,” Cole said. “How does the sex thing work? Are you going to start sleeping with Callie?”

  “What? No. Hell no!”

  “So… what?” Cole asked.

  I sat back down on the bench. “Not sure. There’s one million dollars on the line here. I can jerk it in the shower each morning and at night if I have to. Keep things drained until this blows over. You know how Vince is. He’ll get bored after a week. He expects this to explode. That’s what he wants to see.” I moved my eyes to Liam. “That’s why I got so pissed today when Callie and that guy were kissing. That’s what Vince wants.”

  “Yeah, sure,” Liam said. “You were jealous, brother.”

  “Jealous?” I asked. “Of what? Callie and some guy? Give me a break.”

  “You sure that ring doesn’t mean a thing?” Cole asked.

  “I’m sure,” I said. “Believe me, I’m sure. In fact, I had an idea I was going to throw at her.”

  “I can’t wait to hear this,” Liam said.

  I lifted the middle finger of my right hand at Liam but didn’t look at him.

  “Give him a chance here,” Lincoln said. “Out of all the crazy shit Jackson’s done, this isn’t the worst. At least there’s merit behind it. It’s not a shock that Vince treats Big Jack’s company like a cash register.”

  “Exactly,” I said. “I love money as much as the next person, but my father had a vision. He wanted to find companies that were doing something. No matter their size. Vince cares about big risks and bigger paydays. Again, that’s not wrong, but it’s…”

  “Not what you were brought up to see,” Liam said.

  “Yeah.”

  “And you think Callie will get the top spot?” Cole asked.

  “Who knows what Vince will do,” I said. “Same for Callie. She’s vicious. She thinks she’s unstoppable. When Vince brought up the idea, she didn’t think for a second. It was instant.”

  “So what’s your idea on sex?” Cole asked.

  “We live next to each other. So we get to leave and come home together. Which is fine. For bedroom activity, we make sure we outsource and keep it quiet. Nothing too close to work. It’ll be tricky but if we coordinate it, then we both have company on the same night.”

  “That’s going to be next to impossible,” Lincoln said.

  “Do you hear yourself when you talk?” Liam asked.

  “What?” I asked.

  “You’re going to use some app to find a quick fuck for yourself and your wife?” Liam asked. “And then what? Set a time limit? All while keeping it covered up?”

  “It was just an idea,” I said.

  “At that point, man,” Lincoln said, “just throw back a few shots of whiskey and take Callie to the bedroom. That would be easier.”

  I stood up. “I’d rather jerk off.”

  “Well, we all know whose right forearm is going to be massive in a few weeks,” Cole said.

  They all started to laugh.

  I didn’t find any of it funny at all.

  I pushed by Lincoln and went to lift some more weights.

  I had no desire to go home… and see my wife.

  “Grab a drink with me, man,” I said to Lincoln.

  “I have to get home and grab a shower,” he said. “I have a meeting tonight.”

  “Business?”

  “Yes,” he said. “I don’t need to code my dates. I’m not Cole.”

  I laughed. “He’s a dick.”

  “He’s just high on himself. Everyone gets like that. I’m not going to stand here and talk shit on him.”

  “I don’t say anything about anyone I wouldn’t say to their face.”

  Cole had split. Then Liam got a call from Miranda and he took off like a kid caught red-handed doing something wrong.

  “Hey, let me ask you something,” I said. “Liam and Miranda. That’s bullshit, right?”

  “I think you have your own relationship to worry about, Jackson,” Lincoln said.

  “Be real here.”

  “We’re all best friends,” Lincoln said. “We’ve all watched each other do dumb shit, right? And we’re always there for each other. It’s what we do. If Liam walks down the aisle and marries Miranda, we’ll all be there for him. If he doesn’t, we’ll get him drunk and laid. And if he marries her and they get a divorce, he’ll sleep on one of our couches until he figures out his life.”

  “Not my couch,” I said.

  “Not mine either,” Lincoln said with a smile.

  “Ha, good for Cole then,” I said. “He gets stuck with Liam.”

  Lincoln grabbed my shoulder. “Now who’s going to get stuck with you when this blows up?”

  “Nobody,” I said. “I’m fine. This is about money. One million dollars, man. I can’t stop thinking about it.”

  Lincoln shook his head. “I can’t believe you actually got married. After everything that happened…”

  “That was different, Lincoln. That was real. That was… shit…”

  “Sorry to bring it up,” he said. “I just don’t want to see you fall into that trap again.”

  “What trap?” I asked.

  “You have a heart in there,” Lincoln said, pointing to my chest. “And when you offer it, man, you give it all. And when you hide it, you’re a cold prick.”

  “Thanks,” I said.

  “I have to get going for real here,” Lincoln said. “Good luck with everything. Tell the wife I said hey. Maybe I can finally meet her. You’ve complained enough about her.”

 
Lincoln winked and walked away, digging his phone out of his pocket.

  Do I really talk about Callie that much?

  I never considered it.

  We all complained about our lives when we lifted weights. That was part of the experience. Pick up heavy shit, get shit off our chests, and move on with life.

  I skipped getting a ride home and just walked the busy city streets.

  There was something about being lost in a sea of people that made me feel right at home. Everyone with their own lives, stories, and business to take care of.

  It made the pretend marriage for money thing seem a little less intense.

  By the time I got home, I was beyond starving.

  I couldn’t wait to order food, take a shower, have a drink, and just forget about the day.

  What I didn’t expect was to find my new wife standing outside my apartment door, looking beautiful and pissed at me.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Callie

  “We need to talk,” I said, promising myself I’d keep my eyes on Jackson’s eyes and not his beautiful, sweaty body.

  “Mind if I go inside and get a drink?”

  “Sure,” I said.

  I moved away from the door.

  After all, it was his apartment.

  I smelled the dried sweat on his clothes and skin. It wasn’t a sexy smell at all. What got to me was picturing Jackson lifting weights. Actually sweating. Knowing his body had been working so hard… so hard. So. Hard.

  I looked down at my feet.

  I was barefoot.

  I wiggled my toes.

  Callie… focus…

  I made a quick mental note that I needed to handle my own personal business.

  There was no way I could walk around eye humping Jackson in his workout clothes like I was. I just needed a little relief. A little two finger session… or something exciting from my drawer…

  Who am I kidding? Toys? Batteries? Not a chance. That was all to tease Jackson. I had no toys. There was no collection. There was one pink thing that had a hook coming off of it that kind of looked more painful than pleasureful.

  “Are you going to come inside?” Jackson asked.

  “Yeah,” I said.

  I stepped into the apartment and closed the door behind me.

  Jackson went right to the fridge.

  He showed me a beer bottle. “Drink?”

  “Sure.”

  He twisted off the cap and put it on the counter.

  He got one for himself.

  “A beer after the gym?” I asked.

  “It’s good for you,” he said. “I’m not kidding either. Look it up.”

  “I’ll take your word for it.”

  I grabbed the bottle of beer and stood kind of in the same spot as I did before. With Jackson across from me. Only he wasn’t shirtless, making me breakfast.

  “Something tells me you didn’t come here to talk about exercising and drinking,” he said.

  “No.”

  “I bet it has something to do with the guy you were tongue fucking before.”

  The way his nostrils flared, I smiled.

  “Jealous…”

  He leaned forward. “No. Like I told you. Act like my wife.”

  “I am,” I said. “I’m here to talk. Married couples talk.”

  “No, they don’t.”

  “The ones that don’t get divorced do.”

  “Did your parents not talk?” Jackson asked.

  “My father ran out when I was young,” I said. “I never heard from him again. Never saw him. Never got a birthday card or a Christmas present.”

  “So that’s why you have issues with men?” Jackson asked. “You think everyone is going to break your heart like your daddy did.”

  “Fuck you, Jackson,” I said. “Don’t try to read into me. You don’t know a thing about me.”

  “Well, you’re in my apartment, drinking a beer with me,” he said. “You wanted to see me. You wanted to be in here with me.”

  “Don’t get too ahead of yourself,” I said.

  “Might be too late for that. We’re already married.”

  I looked at his wedding band.

  I looked at mine.

  Too little too late… but that’s when I finally asked a really honest question to myself.

  What the fuck am I doing here?

  Jackson stepped back and leaned against the counter.

  His dirty, sweaty shirt… muscles galore… the mean look in his eyes… drinking a beer…

  “Derrick,” I blurted out.

  “My name is Jackson.”

  “Really?”

  “How many times have you screamed the wrong name?” he asked with a devilish grin.

  “Give me someone man enough to make me scream and we’ll see.”

  “Oh, fuck, Callie. You’ve never had wild enough sex where you scream the person’s name? No wonder you’re all wound up. That’s a tragedy.”

  “Stop,” I said. “I have plenty of… you know what? I’m not telling you that stuff.”

  “You don’t want to tell me your number? I’ll tell you mine.”

  “Number… no.”

  “Did you fuck the guy you were kissing?”

  My cheeks felt warm.

  Jackson had a sexy way of making me feel uncomfortable. And that wasn’t like me.

  “Yes,” I said.

  Jackson’s lip curled. “When was the last time?”

  “When was the last time you had sex?” I asked.

  “I wasn’t the one kissing someone else today, Callie.”

  “He kissed me.”

  “That’s your best defense?”

  “It’s the truth. You know, I came here to talk to you about this.”

  “So then talk.”

  “You won’t shut up for a second.”

  “You’re avoiding the subject,” Jackson said.

  “His name is Derrick. Yes, we’ve slept together. Many times, actually. Okay? We were never serious. More of a…”

  “Fuck buddy?” Jackson asked.

  “Sure. Something like that.”

  “Is this you asking for permission to fuck him?” Jackson asked. “Because we can work something out. In fact, I had an idea-”

  “Jackson, shut up,” I yelled.

  He lifted his eyebrow. “Wow. This has you worked up.”

  “I just want you to stop talking. How do I do that?”

  “Put a tit in my mouth.”

  “A tit in your mouth?” I asked.

  “Yeah. You asked. I answered.”

  My breasts began to tingle, almost arguing with one another over who would get the attention from Jackson’s terrible mouth.

  I took a deep breath. “What I’m trying to say, Jackson, is that Derrick and I were always just a casual thing.”

  “A casual fuck.”

  “Sure. A causal fuck. Last time we were hanging out, I made a few comments and I guess he took it as though I maybe wanted a relationship with him. I hadn’t seen him since then. I had no intentions of seeing him. Maybe.”

  “Maybe?” Jackson asked.

  “That’s the catch.”

  “What is?”

  “I promised to go to an event with him,” I said. “Not as a date. Not as a couple. More of a plus one sort of thing.”

  “So cancel it.”

  “I can’t. It’s for his parents. They’re prominent people.”

  “So you’re telling me that some guy shows up to your office, kisses you, and you’re going out on a date with him? And I’m supposed to be okay with that? You don’t think that’s going to fuck up what we’re doing here?”

  “No,” I said. “Because you know about it now. It’s a work event. That’s how we spin it.”

  “A work event. Why would I go along with it?”

  “You don’t have a choice,” I said. “I’m going to this event. It’s a charity ball. Okay? I said I would go. I’ll walk around, talk to a few people, show my face, avoid Derrick, and
then come home to my loving and adoring husband.”

  Jackson rubbed his jaw. “Did you tell him you’re married?”

  “Not yet.”

  “He was in your office.”

  “He was trying to hump me on my desk.”

  Jackson slammed his beer bottle down on the counter. “You know what, Callie? The first thing you said to me after we got hitched was to not fuck this up for you. How about you do the same for me. Don’t fuck this up for me.”

  Jackson walked to the opposite end of the kitchen to get away from me.

  I hurried to block his path. “Wait a second, Jackson.”

  “Not interested,” he said.

  He grabbed my hips and picked me up.

  We were eye level for a second.

  He moved me aside and put me down.

  I grabbed his arm and sank my nails into his skin.

  He froze and pulled his arm, making me crash into him.

  “The only time I want you to scratch me… is when I’m fucking you and your nails are clawing at my back.”

  There was jealousy written all over his face.

  He walked away toward the bathroom.

  That was my cue to get out of the apartment.

  I took my beer and took a breath.

  An angry, jealous Jackson was really, REALLY sexy.

  It was a move of total desperation.

  I knew we shared a bathroom wall.

  My bathroom was just off the kitchen and his was just off the guest bedroom.

  I stood in my bathroom doorway, lights off, for a good minute, trying to debate what to do.

  I knew what I wanted to do.

  I knew what I needed to do.

  I knew what I had to do.

  The fact was… I was alone. In the comfort of my new apartment. I could do anything I wanted to do.

  So what if I walked into the bathroom, alone, in the dark? So what if I put my ear to the wall so I could hear the shower water running in Jackson’s shower? So what if I shut my eyes and let my hand slide down the front of my pants as I pictured him rubbing his body with his hands…

  His big, strong hands. Gliding up and down his hard skin. His right hand going down, down, down, moving over the thick, flaccid length of his cock. Cupping his hand over his cock, barely able to cover it all up. Leaving the imagination to run wild as to what that cock looked like when it was erect and full.