Fake Bride With Benefits

by Riley Rollins

  For a second I think she's mad, but she doesn't brush my hand away. When she finishes bundling her hair, she turns on her side to face me again. "You like what you saw?"

  "Fuck yeah, I did." I slide a hand around her waist and pull her into me, grinding my hard cock against her through our clothes and the sheets. I want her to know the effect she has on me.

  "Want to see more of it?" she asks quietly.

  "I don't just want to see it," I growl. "I want to take my time to enjoy every inch of your body. I want to taste every part of you. Last night wasn't enough. I don't care if we're late to the shop this morning."

  I feel her heart beating hard.

  But she sits up suddenly. "Wait a sec," she says, and then she scurries off to the bathroom. I roll on to my back, rubbing my eyes with my palms. Patience is one of my best qualities, but I can barely fucking wait to be inside Tess again.

  When she comes out of the bathroom, she looks disappointed. "I'm sorry," she says. "I… My period just started."

  I can't help chuckling. Maybe this is a sign from Jesus, telling me not to let this girl get any closer than she already is.

  "And I'm out of tampons. Would you mind… going out to get some?"

  I groan. Now I officially feel married.

  15

  Tess

  As Hunter and I walk to work, I can't stop thinking about the way we woke up this morning, him spooning me in my bed, his hardness straining against me through the thin layers of fabric. When I invited him to sleep in my bed, it was only thanks to liquid courage and a burning desire to repeat what happened in the kitchen earlier that afternoon. But waking up that way felt intimate, way more intimate, than I'd expected.

  The problem is, I want to do it again.

  And even though I felt like the unsexiest little girl when I had to ask him to go on a tampon run for me, he was a perfect gentleman about it. Well, as much as he's capable of.

  Summer's in full swing now, and the damp morning heat pervades everything. My clothes cling to my damp skin, my hair frizzes, and my underarms feel swampy and horrible. It's okay in the shade, but whenever we step into the sun, I start to bake.

  As we turn the corner onto Main Street where the strip mall is located, we run into Eddie and his wife, also heading toward the strip mall where their restaurant is. Hunter slips an arm around my waist, hooking his thumb into one of my belt loops. We've nearly perfected the art of pretending. We must have, because no one in the town has suspected a damn thing. The only person who really knows, Meg, has managed to keep her mouth shut for once. But now it feels way more than pretend. Every time we hold hands in public, it feels more natural than the last. Sometimes it feels just like it did in high school.

  "Another day in paradise," says Hunter, tipping his head at Eddie. I expect Eddie to come back with one of his usual retorts, but the look on his face tells me something's wrong.

  "Hunt, man, Tess, you gotta come take a look at this. Been circling the block looking for you."

  Hunter's hand drops from my waist, and he doesn't even brush his hand against my ass like he normally does. "What's going on?" he asks.

  "Come see for yourself."

  We follow Eddie around the corner and head straight for the strip mall. When we turn the corner, I immediately see something's wrong. Jason stands outside on the sidewalk, along with a few of our regular morning customers. But this time, there's a big pink notice plastered right in the middle of the front door. My stomach churns acid. I knew something like this was going to happen. Everything was going so well. Too well.

  "What's all this?" I ask as we approach the patio outside the café. "What's going on?"

  "It was like this when I got here," says Jason, shaking his head. "Read it."

  I slip through the small crowd of customers and read the sign:

  Rainbow Café

  CLOSED By order of the Maple Ridge City Health Department

  This food facility has been ordered to temporarily close until the violations listed below are corrected. This notice must remain in place throughout the period of closure. It may only be removed by authority of the health department after confirmation that the violations have been corrected.

  - Failure to sanitize surfaces (flour dust on floor)

  "Flour dust on floor?" says Hunter. "What in the actual fuck does that mean? It's a damn bagel joint!"

  I take a deep breath and try to calm myself down. "The inspector came by two days ago," I say. "It was all routine He didn't say anything about this."

  "Excuse me," says a man standing behind me, "Does this mean you won't be opening today?"

  "Of course it fucking—" says Hunter, before I elbow him in the side to shut him up.

  "Unfortunately it does," I say. "We'll have to clear this up with city officials. With any luck we'll be back tomorrow."

  The customers, all of our early birds, look disappointed. A few of them shuffle off to the old Sunrise Café, which is just opening its doors down the street. Some others get in their cars parked along the street and take off. Only Hunter, Jason, Eddie, his wife, and I remain.

  "This doesn't make any sense," I say, standing in front of the door. I read the sign over and over again.

  "It makes zero damn sense," says Hunter, next to me. "What do they fucking expect, for us to sweep the floor every fifteen minutes? Some fucking flour dust on the floor isn't a fucking health threat to anyone." He turns to Jason. "What the hell do you make of this, kid?"

  Jason shakes his head. "You're right. It doesn't make a lick of sense."

  I can always tell when Hunter is actually mad, because that's when he stops insulting other people.

  Just then, Oscar comes out of the pawn shop a few doors down and approaches us.

  "Damn man," says Eddie. "You know anything about this?"

  Oscar nods his head yes. "Bet you a hundred damn dollars I do."

  "Well then, spit it out."

  "It's that damn old man Wilkinson."

  "The mayor?" says Hunter.

  "Damn right."

  "But why would he hassle me?" I say.

  Oscar shakes his head. "Hell if I know. Same reason the city's always revoking my pawn license. The old man's got grudges and nothing better to do than carry them out all day." I remember what he told us at the potluck, that he keeps being falsely accused of buying and selling stolen tools. "Did you do something to piss him off?"

  "Not that I know of," I say.

  "Alright," says Hunter, clenching his fists. "Show's over. We'll deal with this." He storms back into the street, back toward my apartment, and I follow after him. I glance over my shoulder as I scurry after him, and see Jason and the others file away from the restaurant dejectedly.

  Hunter paces back and forth in my living room. "I'm going to have a talk with that fuck," he says, clenching and unclenching his fists. I can't remember seeing him like this before. I sit on the coffee table with my hands between my knees. Hunter may live for confrontation, but I don't like it.

  "Let's just call the health inspector's office and do this the right way," I say. "It's not worth getting upset over."

  "The hell it isn't," says Hunter, whirling to face me. "He's fucking with my friend, and now he's fucking with my wife."

  "Your fake wife."

  "I don't care. For all he knows, you're my real wife. Probably has a copy of the fucking marriage certificate on his desk right now. So it's personal."

  "I'm sure it's just a misunderstanding."

  Hunter shakes his head. "I dealt with fucks like this in the SEALs. They literally have nothing better to do than sit on their fat asses and fuck with people. You have to deal with these assholes with strength. It's all they understand."

  "What are you talking about, Hunter? This is politics, not war."

  "Same thing."

  "I want to deal with this my way."

  "Just let me take care of this."

  "This isn't like you," I say. "Since when do you blow up?"

  "I'm
not blowing up," he says, slowing his pacing. "I'm pissed because he made this personal by fucking with you."

  "I'm flattered, but I can solve my own problems, Hunter. It's my shop."

  His eyes narrow. "Yeah, it's not like I put a shit ton of effort into this business too."

  "It was as a friend. A favor. We talked about this." Usually I'm the one getting mad and Hunter calms me down, but right now he's really mad.

  "I'm not asking for a stake in the profits. But don't deny me a stake in the decision making. I'm dealing with this guy the way I know how."

  "Hunter," I say. "You're leaving. Just let it go."

  "Yeah, well, I'm here now."

  "And what does that mean?" I say, standing up. Now I'm getting emotional too. "What is this? What is this situation we're in?"

  "Well that's crystal clear."

  "Is it?"

  "You're my fake bride."

  "With benefits, apparently."

  "With benefits."

  "Hunter," I say, and I start feeling more emotional than I want to feel. "This feels like it's turning into more than we bargained for."

  "I didn't bargain for anything."

  "Don't you know that you hurt me when you left last time?"

  He stops pacing again and glares at me. "Bringing up eight years ago again? Seriously?"

  "I'm afraid of getting hurt again."

  "I told you," he says, "I'm leaving." He exaggerates the word and it hurts my feelings how he says it.

  I stand up and my fists clench too. "Hunter, you just came back into my life when I was vulnerable, and now things are complicated, and—"

  "Things are not complicated," he says. But the way he says it, he might as well have just said "things are complicated."

  "What do you feel for me?" I ask. My heart pounds as I say the words, and I'm not sure what I want his response to be.

  But he changes the topic. "Look, we've just got to deal with this as swiftly and effectively as possible. I'm going."

  "Don't," I say forcefully. "If this is really a personal grudge of the mayor's, you'll only make it worse."

  "Goddamnit. I'm getting some fresh air."

  I watch silently as he storms out of the apartment.

  I sit back on the couch and pull a throw over myself even though I'm not cold. I can't stop thinking about our conversation. I was starting to get attached to some stupid, false hope that Hunter was starting to see me as important again. I was starting to hope he'd be decide to stay, and that maybe I'd have some kind of fairytale romance that ends with me getting the guy I wanted ever since high school.

  But instead, I think this is going to end in heartbreak for me. Just like the last time. And maybe my restaurant is going down in flames, too.

  16

  Hunter

  When I come back to the apartment late that night, Tess is already sleeping in her room with the door shut. A clear signal that I'm back to sleeping on the floor. There's a note taped to the door:

  Hunter: Meeting with mayor tomorrow at noon. Leaving the house early. Please be there and be calm.

  I go to sleep on the living room floor. I can't stop thinking about Tess. I want to be in bed with her instead, touching every inch of her body until the sun rises.

  When I wake up the next morning around 10, she's already gone. I toast a couple frozen Eggo waffles and wash them down with a nasty-ass cup of instant coffee. With all the "artisan" coffee I've been drinking at the shop over the last few weeks, I realize I'm on the verge of turning into a damn hipster myself. Two months ago, I wouldn't have so much as flinched at this joe. Now I can almost tell the difference. Almost.

  I slap on a pair of khakis and a button-down shirt, and I slick my hair back like a legit businessman. But when I check myself in the bathroom mirror, I look like a fucking pussy.

  So I roll my sleeves up until my thick, tattooed forearms are on full display. That's more fucking like it. Let the mayor know who he's dealing with. I'll fucking let Tess try to talk things out with him. But if he's really making this personal, it won't be enough. She may not admit it, but she needs my help.

  I'm walking down Main Street toward the courthouse and the city government offices when I pass by a little girl sitting on the curb, crying.

  Fucking hell. I always run into shit like this. Completely out of my element. Why does this shit always happen to me?

  I approach the little girl and kneel down to her level. I figure I'll scare the shit out of her no matter what, but maybe this'll be less severe. "Hey," I say. "What's wrong?"

  She sniffles. "My puppy."

  "Your puppy what?"

  "He's gone."

  Fucking kids can't even explain what's wrong. But seeing a kid crying like this doesn't sit right with me. "Where did he go?"

  "Down."

  "Down where?"

  "Down there."

  I stand up straight and look around. Then I hear a yapping sound coming from the curb storm drain behind the kid's feet, and I realize what happened.

  So I kneel down again. "Just hang tight, kid. I'll get him out in no time."

  I strip my shirt off and hang it on a bench on the sidewalk. Then I bend over, stick my fingers into the holes of the manhole cover next to the storm drain, and haul the heavy-ass piece of iron off. It smells like a nasty motherfucking sewer, but I've seen and smelled much worse back in the Middle East. So whatever.

  Holding my breath, I scrunch in my shoulders and climb down the ladder into the darkness. I don't have to search hard to find the puppy. A wet ball of fur nips at my ankles, so I reach down and grab the little fucker. Then I climb back onto the sidewalk.

  The puppy was originally white, but it's brown and muddy from the sewer, just like my ankles and my chest are now. Great.

  "Zack!" says the little girl, and she leaps up to grab the puppy out of my arms.

  I hand it off to her. "Go home," I say, "Wash your hands and give that thing a bath. And don't touch your face before then."

  Who knows if the little girl understands what I'm telling her, but the look on her face is worth getting my business casual clothes covered in shit. She cradles the puppy in her arms like a baby and starts to skip down the sidewalk.

  Jesus Christ. Me, that girl, and the puppy are all probably going to test positive for E. Coli this time tomorrow morning.

  I pull my watch out of my pocket and glance at the time. Shit. It's already 11:55. I'm supposed to meet Tess in five minutes, but I can't fucking show up to the mayor's office covered in literal human excrement. Even if that also happens to be what he's made of. Even I have limits that I won't exceed. I grab my shirt off the bench and try to wipe off my hands. This is fucking disgusting.

  After replacing the manhole cover, I head back to Tess's apartment to shower and change clothes. Hopefully she doesn't fucking slaughter me for this.

  Tess sits on the couch, her fists balled up on her knees. She swallows hard, on the verge of tears.

  "Talk to me," I say, ruffing my now-clean hair with a towel. "Sorry I didn't make. I—"

  "It's done, Hunter, it's done, and it's all wrong, and the paperwork is wrong, and—"

  "Slow down," I say, shaking my head. "Start from the beginning."

  She gulps down her tears before they can fall. "I went to the meeting."

  "Right."

  "He said there can't be another health inspection until next Monday."

  "A whole week?" I say. "Motherfucker. That's such bullshit. What are there, 20 restaurants in the whole damn town?"

  "There's more."

  I wait for her to compose herself and continue.

  "He said there's an investigation into the zoning permits. There might have been a mistake, and if there was, my business license could be revoked."

  "Fucking hell," I say. "Zoning, my ass. That strip mall's been there since we were kids."

  "I know," she says. A tear breaks through her facade and streaks down the side of her face. She wipes it off on her sleeve.

 
; "It's complete bullshit. First Oscar, now you. Does this guy just fucking live to cause people problems?"

  Tess starts to openly sob, and my spine zips up. This fucking day just doesn't get any better. "You weren't there for me," she says. "You weren't there for me again, when I needed you."

  I bend down at put my hands on her shoulders. Just touching her sends an electric current through my arms, and all through my body, and I fight to keep my composure. Even when this girl is at her worst, she still affects me more than anyone else ever has. "Tess, I was rescuing a—"

  "It's just like eight years ago. When I need you to be there for me, you're not," she says, her face red and her eyes watery. "And I'm such a stupid girl that I'm falling in love with you anyway. Again."

  Her words take me by surprise, as if I've just walked face-first into a brick wall. I knew feelings were getting involved, but the L-word is way more than I bargained for. Way more. The girl drives me crazy, but it's not in the cards, and I'm not looking for a second chance.

  "Dammit Tess. Why would you say that?" I know I sound like an asshole, but I don't know what else to say.

  She looks up at me with her moist eyes. "Because I mean it. Whatever happens with the restaurant, happens. But I want to know where we stand. I need to know."

  "Goddamnit, Tess," I say. "I knew this was a bad fucking idea."

  She sniffs and looks like she's about to break into tears again. "What do you mean?"

  "This whole thing, the fake marriage, the benefits, helping you with the shop I wasn't fucking trying to give you false hope for a relationship."

  "You're… serious?" she sniffs.

  "It's just not in the cards for me right now, Tess. And you don't look ready for it either."

  "So nothing that happened meant anything?"

  I clench my jaw. The truth is, it did. She means something to me. Something real. But I can't tell her that. Not now. I'm still leaving. And it'll only hurt her more to hear the truth.