by Marika Ray
“You want the left or right?” His voice rumbled in my ear.
“Wha—”
He looked down and grinned at me. “Do you want the left side of the bed or the right?”
My face heated immediately, which I absolutely hated. Blushing was a dead giveaway to your inner feelings, and as a lifelong blusher, I remained irritated my cheeks defied my well-practiced poker face.
“Slow down there, Rhett. You’ll take the guest room until taping begins.”
He tilted his head. “Are you sure that’s wise? We gotta flow around each other like a well-oiled relationship. If we jump into bed right before taping, that might make things look super awkward. I don’t know about you, but I’m all for putting on the best show we can, shared bedrooms and all.”
I chewed on my lip, hating this conversation with a passion. Mostly because he was right. And I hated to be wrong.
I blew out an exasperated breath. “Fine. I’ll take the left, and let’s make this crystal clear: don’t even think of touching me in that bed. This is all fake. Period. Understood?”
He straightened and brought his hand to his head in a salute. “Understood, ma’am!”
Without thinking, I flicked my wrist and backhanded him in the stomach. He let out an oof and busted up laughing. He kept chuckling as he stumbled his way over to my pristine bed. That laugh was like a virus, contagious in nature and sure to make me grumpy. Turning around, he looked at me, still laughing, of course. Then he leaned back and crashed onto my bed, sending several pillows to the ground.
“Oh my God,” he groaned. “It’s so comfortable! Like sleeping on a cloud.”
I folded my arms across my chest, tapped the pen against the doorframe, and stared at him laid out on my bed. It had been over five years since anyone but Hew had been in my bed. It was a shock to the system to see another man there. As much as I wanted to keep things on a business level with this fake relationship, two facts were becoming very clear. One, Rhett was an incredibly easy person to like. And two, he was flat out gorgeous with that ripped body, dimpled smile, and auburn hair that was never quite lying properly on his head.
As much as I hoped he was a good actor and we could pull off this reality show as a couple in love, part of me feared for the safety of my heart. Part of me hoped he wouldn’t be able to act and it would be easy to send him on his way after the show because there wasn’t any chemistry between us.
My cell phone rang downstairs, popping Rhett’s eyes open and pulling me from my musings. “I have to go grab that. Feel free to look around.” I swallowed hard at the thought of him going through my underwear drawer or looking under my sink to see that yes, in fact, I did have zit cream and hair remover.
I dashed downstairs and picked it up before it went to voicemail. It was Rob, the director of the reality show.
“Hey, Rob, how are you?” I was out of breath from my mad dash. Seeing Rob’s name on my phone didn’t help my heart rate any.
“Hello, Gabby. I have some bad news, unfortunately.” He barreled right into it, not even bothering with pleasantries. “We have to move up the timetable of the show due to the station’s schedule. Any chance we can send a crew by tomorrow to start the interviews?”
Oh, shit. I coughed a couple times to clear my throat enough to speak. “Um, tomorrow? Sure. That would be just fine. What time?” I jammed a hand into my hair, gripping it in my fist in frustration. This was so not good.
“Good, good. They’ll be there around ten. Shouldn’t take longer than a couple hours. Thanks, Gabby.” And then he hung up.
I set the phone back down on the kitchen table and closed my eyes. Maybe I was just dreaming. How the hell did they move the schedule up sixteen days? Why was this my life? How did I even get here? I was having an existential crisis, which always seemed to happen right when things went to hell. It was a form of mental punishment, tracing back all your decisions that led to this place you didn’t want to be.
“Gabby?”
I nearly jumped out of my skin. I grabbed my chest and spun around to find Rhett right there, a concerned look on his face.
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you. Are you okay?”
I pasted a sick smile on my face, hoping it was as convincing as my freakishly high-pitched voice. “Oh, sure. Just fine. Everything’s fine. That was the director. He wants to do our interviews tomorrow. Sound fine?”
Rhett’s eyes went comically round. “Oh, shit.”
“You got that right.”
6
Gabby
“You have a lovely home, you two.” The interviewer, Amy, had gushed about how quaint my house was when the crew first arrived. Funny how a “quaint home” can be worth several million dollars due to its proximity to the ocean. Now, she was back at it, the cameras rolling behind her.
“Thank you. We’ve really done a lot to renovate and make it shine,” Rhett answered, his arm around the back of my chair.
I glanced over at him, amazed at his acting and just a little irked he took my compliment about my house. Like he had anything to do with the months of renovations. His thumb kept swiping along my bare shoulder, distracting me. I knew I shouldn’t have worn this off-the-shoulder shirt.
“So tell me, how long have you been together?” Amy asked.
“Only six months,” I rushed to answer. “Seems much longer, though, in some respects as we’re just so happy together. I’d been searching for Mr. Right for a while and now I’ve found him.” I looked over at Rhett with a look of utter adoration. He smiled back and pulled me into his side even tighter.
“And how did you two meet?” Amy wiggled her eyebrows.
We knew she wanted some drama. Which was why we’d stayed up almost all night going over our backstory, our individual histories, quirks we had as a couple, and our favorite things. Since we were making it up anyway, we tried to use a combination of the truth and something wild to keep the viewers’ interest. We also ran our considerable asses off—okay, mine, not Rhett’s as his was quite perfect, not that I was looking—making the house look like Rhett actually lived there. If no one looked too closely, we’d pass inspection.
Rhett swiveled to me first. “I got this one, Snookums.” He looked back at Amy, which was a good thing because I might have eviscerated him with the lasers shooting out of my eyes. We certainly had not agreed on that pet name. “We met at a little coffee shop here in LA. She was researching a story on third nipples in the porn industry and I thought the images on her computer were quite interesting. I grabbed a table next to her and got her talking. They say couples bond over intense experiences and the graphic nature of her work that day really bonded us.”
Rhett grinned like a lovesick puppy, pulling me in tight again, like nipples and porn were the basis for all great relationships.
Amy blinked a few times and sputtered to ask her next question, duly impressed with our meet-cute story. “Okay, well, that’s certainly a story I haven’t heard before! Let’s move on to family. Rhett, I see in my notes here that you have a mother and half-brother. Do you get along well with them both?”
I could feel Rhett tense up beside me, his smile looking a bit on the fake side. He had a lot of different smiles, I was finding out, but this one was downright icy. “Yes, my mother and I have a great relationship. She moved back to Indiana to be with her sister now that they’re getting older and I’m out of the house, but we talk all the time.”
There was a brief pause. “And your brother?” Amy prompted.
Rhett cleared his throat. “Half-brother. And no. We aren’t close.”
Amy flipped some pages on her clipboard. “Oh, that’s too bad. We always like involving family on the show and Hewitt would have been an interesting addition.”
My whole body froze, my brain coming to a complete halt. “Hewitt?”
Two pairs of eyes shifted to me, so I must have said his name out loud. It wasn’t a common name. Not at all common. What were the odds they were talking about my ex-asshole, I
mean, ex-boyfriend?
Amy chuckled nervously. “Yeah, Hewitt O’Donnell. Have you not met Rhett’s brother?”
“Half-brother,” Rhett growled through clenched teeth.
The walls were closing in on me, pressing against my rib cage and possibly causing the dark spots floating across my vision. Rhett squeezed my shoulder, where his hand lay so innocently. My brain kicked back into gear and I realized the bastard had played me. What a motherfucking train wreck of O’Donnell brothers. I was well and truly stuck. In front of a national audience, I’d be pretending to be madly in love with my asshole ex’s brother!
I laughed, the sound a cross between my normal guffaw of awesome and a cry for help. Amy jumped in her chair, so I assumed it didn’t come out like the carefree laugh I intended. I tried harder. Amy jumped farther. I finally wound down to a prolonged sigh, seeing Rhett cringing out of the corner of my eye. Good. I hoped that bastard was regretting this whole thing even half as much as I was.
Pasting on my best airhead smile and eye roll, I finally answered, “Oh, yes. I do know his brother. They don’t talk much, so I forgot who he was for a second there.” I swiped my hand through the air and tried to change the topic.
“So, I don’t have any family that’ll come on the show, but I do have an incredibly pregnant best friend whom you’ll see from time to time. You’re gonna love her, I just know it.”
Amy seemed to take the distraction well and moved on with her questions. I shrugged my shoulders, dislodging Rhett’s hand, and he got the hint. Pulling his arm from around me, he leaned forward and placed his hand on my thigh instead, which wasn’t much of an improvement. Just when I thought this whole thing might work out, a wrench in the plans had me scrambling. Typical O’Donnell behavior.
Every nerve in my body was firing, just itching to get to the fight or flight stage of this ridiculous situation, but I had to stay calm. Had to sit in my chair, wear the smile, and answer the questions. I was a professional, goddammit.
But when the crew left, and we were alone again, Rhett and I would be having words. Lots of them. And all at high volume. I wasn’t Italian for nothing.
7
Rhett
“What the fuck is going on?”
The door barely closed behind the last crew member when Gabby ripped into me. I had it coming. I knew this little secret of mine would get out, I just didn’t think it would happen so soon, or before I had a chance to tell her myself.
Now her hands were jammed on her hips and there were flames shooting out of her eyes. Color dotted her cheeks. Meaning, she was fucking gorgeous, but I didn’t think now was the time to bring that up. Mama didn’t raise no fool.
“I know you’re upset and you have every right to be.” I held my hands up in front of my chest. She looked just like a cat we had growing up; easily agitated and known for striking out with a deadly claw when you least expected it. I still had scars from that little she-devil.
“Damn straight I have a right to be mad. You lied to me.” She took a step closer.
A friendly smile wasn’t going to do dick right now. “I didn’t exactly lie. You didn’t ask if I had a half-brother, so—”
“Don’t you use that bullshit excuse. Omitting an important fact is most certainly lying.” Gabby lunged closer, anger vibrating out in waves that hit me and shifted, becoming a layer of guilt that clung to me.
I stood my ground, but knew I just needed to beg for forgiveness at this point. “I agree. And I’m sorry. I’m sorry for not telling you the truth right away.”
Her chest was rising and falling with huge lungfuls of air. At least the apology got her nostrils to stop doing that weird flexing thing. That was scary.
“Why didn’t you?”
“Tell you right away? Because I knew if I did you’d have nothing to do with me. And I wouldn’t have blamed you. Hewitt is a total douchebag.”
Her shoulders relaxed and her eyes shifted, becoming guarded instead of spitting fire. “Well, at least we can agree on that.” She folded her arms across her chest. “And why the hell would you want to sign up to pretend to date your brother’s ex-girlfriend?”
“Half-brother,” I corrected, but continued quickly when she gave me a look. Oh dear God, not the raised eyebrow. “Look. I knew your name and that you’d dated Hewitt at some point. I was curious. You’re beautiful and funny and despite this crazy idea to fake date for a reality show, you seem smart. I wondered how you put up with the dickweed I share genetics with. I was curious, that’s all.”
Gabby narrowed her eyes. “When was the last time you talked to Hewitt?”
I rubbed a hand across my jaw, thinking back. “Maybe six or seven years ago now?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know that I can believe you. Hew never mentioned a brother.”
A spike of hurt laced through my chest, pissing me off that it was even there after all this time. “Yeah, he was pretty good about forgetting a lot of things. Like I said. He was a total asshole. I’m sure things haven’t changed.” I pulled my phone from my back pocket and handed it to her. She took it reluctantly and waited for me to explain. “Please, look through my phone. You can check my texts, call log, emails. I haven’t talked to him. I promise.”
She ran her gaze over my face and then looked down at the phone, touching the screen. She did that burping-slash-laughing thing again when she saw my screensaver.
“What the hell is this?”
I felt a smile coming back, which meant we were on firm ground again. “That’s me and my buddy, Jayden.”
“Yes, but why are you wearing tutus, and—oh, good Lord—nothing else?”
I moved next to her and gazed down at the picture. “It was for a good cause. We were raising money doing an obstacle course race. And we were wearing something else, by the way. G-string speedos.”
“Oh, well then. That’s totally better.” She giggled and I rejoiced at the sound. I didn’t like a mad-at-me-Gabby.
She sobered and handed me back my phone. Looking up, she met my gaze with her beautiful, huge brown eyes. They were actually almost green around the irises. “I don’t need to look through your phone. I trust you. I’m not happy you kept it from me because now it might come up on the show that I dated Hew, which I don’t wish to speak about. But it’s too late now. We’re in this together and we have to make it work.”
I placed my hand on her arm, having enjoyed how smooth her skin was when I traced her shoulder with my thumb over and over during the interview. “I promise you, Gabby. I’m the right man for the job. Whatever you want me to be, however you want me to act, I’ll do it.”
After a moment her eyes lit up. “Oh, really?”
The wheels spinning in her head were practically visible. “Yes, really. I may come to regret this, but I’m all yours.”
And I meant it. This was turning out to be an incredibly fun job and being able to do it with Gabby was everything. All night, as we prepared in a mad scramble for today, she’d kept her sense of humor. She appreciated my ideas—except for Snookums, she was still very resistant to that nickname for some reason—and she’d looked so cute in her long pajama pants and little tank top, hair piled high on her head. There were real relationships built on far less.
“We need to take you shopping, Rhett O’Donnell.” She frowned. “Wait, what’s your full name? I need it in case I’m angry at you.”
“Hold up. Only my mama gets to call me by my full name.”
She shook her head, her long dark hair dancing around her arms. “Nope. Not how it works. Once you start dating a woman for any length of time, she gets to use the full name too. It’s totally a rule. I write an advice column in the newspaper. I know these things.”
I scoffed. “Oh ho ho! The lady ‘knows’ these things, huh? Well, I bow to your obvious superior intelligence.”
She hit me square in the chest with the back of her hand, for the third time in the last twenty-four hours. “It’s true! Give me the goods.”
I rubbed the spot on my chest. “Am I gonna need to wear Kevlar around you? Damn, girl. If I tell you, will you promise to never call Hewitt my brother again?”
She rolled her eyes. “Fine. If it’s that big of deal to you, I promise to remember to call him your half-brother. Now tell me your name.”
“Did you even read that background report?”
“I glanced at it, but mostly just found the part where it said you have no criminal history,” Gabby replied sheepishly. “Now quit stalling. Lay it on me.”
I sighed, knowing what was to come. “It’s Everett Wilbur O’Donnell.”
Her eyes went round and then she bent in half, a snort of some sort the only sound. Then came the cackles and then finally the loud whooping that made me want to squeeze my ears shut.
I waited her out, having been on the receiving end of this reaction my whole life. Whenever someone heard my full name, they found it hilarious for obvious reasons.
“I don’t know what my parents were thinking. I mean, I do, since Wilbur was my mother’s father’s name, but come on. When I turned eighteen I almost legally changed my middle name to Danger. Wouldn’t that have been rad? Everett Danger O’Donnell. Has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it? I always wanted to say ‘Danger is my middle name.’”
Gabby had straightened up while I explained, a hand over her mouth to muffle the laughter, but that sent her over the edge again and she was back to whooping, her face turning red as she stooped over.
“Wilbur?” Her voice came out so high-pitched I wasn’t sure I heard her correctly. “Wilbur as in the little piggy?”
I didn’t know right then, I might have preferred her angry at me instead of this fit of laughter at my own expense.
“Yes. Wilbur as in the pig in the famous children’s book.”
She finally calmed long enough to look at me. She had to swipe at both eyes to clear the tears before she could see me clearly. “That’s so cute.”
