“Your Angel is hot,” Corrigan piped up. “That one picture you showed me did him no justice.”
It was a good time to demure and take the attention off my situation, but I grinned. “I know, right?”
“And he’s getting you coffee and breakfast without you having asked,” she went on. “My boyfriend won’t even brew a pot if we’re going to be home together all morning. He makes one K-cup for himself.”
“Your boyfriend—” Marisol stopped talking and smiled. “Is a very nice man.”
Marshawn cracked up, and Kip snickered. Everyone knew the stories of Corrigan’s irritating boyfriend and his immature ways. It was weird talking about it while he was in the bus a few feet away, though.
“Angel’s a sweetheart,” I agreed, instead of going on with the comparisons. “But we probably should hold off on canonizing men for doing more than the bare minimum, right?”
Corrigan rolled her eyes, but Marisol held up her hand for a high five. I turned it into one of Chris’s complicated handshakes. By the time Angel reappeared and offered me a large coffee and an everything bagel with cream cheese, I was in a much livelier mood.
“Did you get anything for yourself?”
He held up a Red Bull. “I’ll be fine.”
“We’ll share my bagel.” He shrugged, not disagreeing, and I impulsively kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you, baby.”
He stared at me like I was a mutant. Well, that was how it seemed to me. Everyone else probably assumed he was simply stoic.
We boarded the bus again, and I twisted in my seat so I could face him while we ate. My knee rested on his thigh, and once we were done, he put his hand on it. His thumb dragged along the curve of my knee as he went back to his phone. I kept watching him.
Over two hours into this charade, and already I was wondering how this would play out. Either we’d have a great time and it would be us goofing around for three days while punctuating sentences with endearments, or . . . it would be awkward. We’d get caught up on what we were, or weren’t, versus what we were pretending to be. He’d get in his feelings and retreat emotionally, or I’d get defensive about having to do this at all, and we’d bicker. There was already a tiny voice at the back of my mind hissing at me to stop enjoying this so much.
“Stop thinking so hard.”
I looked up to find Angel was studying me. He’d shoved his sunglasses up into the tangle of his blond hair.
“What are you talking about?”
He raised an eyebrow. “We’ll have fun. Stop worrying.”
Why did he have to know me so well? “I’ll try.”
“Hopefully you don’t get poison ivy again.” He paused, then raised his voice. “That rash was all up your—”
I put a hand over his mouth as his eyes twinkled. Leaning in, I pressed my mouth to his ear and murmured, “If you start teasing me with fake stories, I’ll tease back.”
“Try it. It’s pretty difficult to embarrass me.”
Poor sweet summer child. I smiled and said, “Thank you for breakfast, querido,” before brushing our lips together. He turned to stone, so I did it again. And since everybody had returned to their music and their phones, and nobody was in the seat beside us, I slipped my tongue into his mouth.
He made a sound so low only I could hear it, but that faint moan caused me to clench up. The feeling intensified when he kissed me back, hungry and demanding, until my pulse was rocketing, and I was struggling to keep my hands to myself. I should have known better than to think we could just kiss without me wanting to escalate things.
“You behave yourself,” he murmured against me. “Or this is gonna be a lot harder.”
I couldn’t help it. I dragged my fingers down to his crotch, and ran one along the erection clearly showing through his jeans.
His eyelashes fluttered, and he shifted on his seat. “Bad.”
“I will be if you don’t behave yourself.”
Angel shrugged casually despite the wood he was sporting. “We’ll see.”
That should have been my cue to stop teasing her, but I didn’t. I couldn’t help myself. As immature as it was, I got a kick out of it every time she flushed or grumbled or glared me down like she was going to punch me in the dick. I also wanted to know what she’d do to get revenge.
A couple of hours later, we established ourselves in the lodge the two attorneys had rented. An entire lodge. There were six bedrooms, but Marisol and the office manager were sharing one, and Marshawn and his wife claimed the huge pullout bed in the study. I had a feeling it had something to do with the proximity to the hot tub right outside on the deck. Very smart man had done his research.
I teased Stephanie the entire time. About her pausing in unloading to drink water, about make-believe vacations we’d taken together where she’d acted like a princess, and an off-the-cuff story about a time when she’d nearly drowned. It was all complete bullshit, but everyone got a kick out of it and the way she’d smack my ass or the back of my head in response.
I personally got a kick out of the glint in her eye. That glint—it was a warning glint. She was gonna get me later.
So far, everything was gravy except for the fact that we’d wound up next door to Kip and Dee. They’d regaled us with an edited version of their Tinder hookup on the bus, so I was dreading sharing a wall with them.
“No couch,” I said to Stephanie after we’d dumped our duffel bags in the room. “I could pretend to pass out downstairs every night.”
She gave me a stank face. “So they think we don’t like sharing the bed? No.”
Snorting, I stripped off my sweaty shirt and tossed it on the bed. “Do you care if they think we’re not fucking?”
“Yes. They think we’re some idealistic couple. I plan to milk this appearance for all its worth if you quit being a pain in the ass.”
“Aw.” I grabbed her arm and pulled her to me, enclosing her in a sweaty hug. “My poor, poor fiancée is so touchy. Doesn’t want me sharing the details of our fake-ass vacation mishaps from years past, making this dumb lie more believable.”
“It’s not dumb.” She laughed as I squeezed her, not protesting when I nuzzled the side of her neck. This was dangerous. “They really think you’re some amazing guy.”
“Based on what?” I asked against her skin.
“Beats me. And Corrigan thinks you’re so fine. I’m liking the response.”
“Huh.” I kissed her on the cheek and pulled back as a weird feeling moved through me. “Glad I’m living up to whatever standards you set for the version of me you’d actually be in a relationship with.”
I turned away before I could see whatever expression crossed her lovely face at my extra-ass passive aggression, but I did not apologize. And she didn’t comment. An awkward silence filled the room as I changed into a clean shirt and she semi-unpacked.
“Ready to go down? I think they’re grilling for lunch.”
She nodded quietly, and we went downstairs to rejoin the others.
It took thirty minutes of foot shuffling and weak jokes about half the group only knowing how to use Seamless or Blue Apron, and the other half pointedly looking away because they weren’t about to cook for their bosses, for me to step up and get the grill going. Did I want to cook for strangers? No? Did I want to eat? Yes. But most importantly, watching their incompetence made me want to punch them.
The lodge came stocked with everything we needed. Apparently, Scott had called ahead and had requested the fridge be filled with items that all the staff and their plus-ones had requested. The guy was awkward, but he seemed to want to show his employees a good time.
The lodge was stunning. Now that I’d walked around and checked the entire place out, I kept trying to figure out how much it had cost and had no idea. There were several bedrooms and bathrooms, a stocked bar, stocked kitchen, a giant pool, a fire pit, grill, deck, multiple sitting rooms, and several outdoor seating areas. There were plenty of places to snag a private moment if someone wanted i
t.
But despite dropping a likely exorbitant amount on the place, Scott lingered nearby, looking guilty, as I took control of the food. I shooed him away, advising him to go play cards, and promptly appointed Brandon, Corrigan’s lazy-ass boyfriend, as my sous chef.
“I don’t really cook,” he explained, gazing wistfully after Marisol, Corrigan, and Stephanie as they headed to the pool. “I told you, I just order Blue Apron.”
“My dude, Blue Apron delivers raw ingredients.” I wiped my forearm across my head, squinting at him in the sunlight. Lake George had a nicer breeze going than the city, but it was still blazing. “Do you close your eyes and wish real hard for it to turn into a meal?”
On one of the wooden deck chairs, Marshawn cracked up around his beer bottle. “I like you,” he said to me. “I knew Steph’s man had to be cool.”
“Oh yeah?” Again, I stripped off a shirt that had been reduced to a sweat rag, and stood there in my jeans and flip-flops. Why hadn’t I thought to change into some basketball shorts? Oh right, because I wasn’t trying to scandalize anyone with my dick print. “Why’s that?”
Brandon sullenly chopped vegetables for me to roast after the meat, glancing between us silently. Maybe he’d be silent for the whole weekend. In the few exchanges we’d had since entering the house, I wasn’t real impressed with him. He found things to bitch about that were basically made up.
“Because she’s awesome.” Marshawn looked at me like this should be obvious. “She works the hardest of any of us, to be honest. Finishes her work in half the time, and not because she’s rushing. She’s just quick. Scott adores her.”
“Really.” I shifted my gaze to the canopied lounges where he’d gone to play cards with Kip, his wife, and Daryl. “Then why won’t he give her a raise?”
Marshawn snorted into his beer. “Good question, man. I’ll tell you my thoughts on that at another time.”
Judging from the sharp edge of his smile, and his quick glance at Brandon, the conversation would happen when we were alone. A flare of irritation went up in my chest before I snuffed it out. Now was not the time for me to start having an attitude with her boss. She could handle this herself. Stephanie had never needed a white knight.
“Anyway, she’s a great person to have in the office. And a good leader. She knows so much that sometimes Scott has to ask her questions.”
A swell of pride replaced the fire from a moment ago. I smiled, looking over toward the pool, where she was sitting on the edge in some kind of short gauzy cover-up. “She’s amazing.”
“And hot as hell.”
My gaze swiveled from Stephanie to Brandon, and I realized he was staring at her too. My emotions were ping-ponging all over the place, and jealous motherfucker lit up with a thousand dinging sounds. “Yeah, it’s real hot out.”
Brandon blinked at me, confused, but my ice grill must have told him all he needed to know. He dropped his head and went back to chopping vegetables. It was now my mission in life to son him for the next couple of days. Maybe it would distract me from my masochistic desire to rile Stephanie up.
Then again, probably not.
“So, how did you two meet?”
The question caught me unexpected after spending the majority of the day in the sun and pool, then a few hours of eating and drinking beer. I was in that warm, full, and slightly buzzed state that had allowed me to curl up next to Angel on a chaise lounge as a cool breeze whipped off the lake. It had seemed perfectly acceptable to doze off with my head on his chest as he absently stroked my hair while paying attention to his phone. Now, I realized people had been watching us. We were the picture of a couple in love right down to the constant casual touching.
Self-consciously, I sat up a straighter, but there was little to no bonus room on the lounge. Getting distance would require me to suddenly get up, which would make me look like a freak.
“In high school,” Angel said. “I worshipped her and she let me help her with her Spanish homework.”
“Um, excuse you, I helped you with English.” I poked his side. “And you were dating Crystal.”
He rolled his eyes the way he always did when I mentioned Crystal—my high school nemesis. “Yeah, that was senior year. We met way before that.”
I also wasn’t sure they’d officially been dating. Judging from the stories Crystal had loved telling me and my other friends, it had sounded like they’d had nonstop sex. Those same stories had driven me nuts. Even now, I was mad at her for talking about everything from his dick size to the way he’d loved going down on her. My rage had been the epitome of hypocrisy considering I’d also made out with Crystal dozens of times in bathrooms and staircases all over school. We’d been fine until she’d set her eyes on him. Mostly everyone in the school had understood that I had an unspoken thing for Angel, except for her. Well, and except for him. He was oblivious to this day.
“Okay, fair, but,” I said to our audience, holding up a finger, “it was the Crystal thing that made me realize someone else would have him if I kept dragging my feet.”
Angel looked at me, surprise clear on his face, but it was Corrigan who leaned in for a juicy story. “So competition caught your attention?”
“Uh, I guess? Now it sounds cliché.” I wrinkled my nose but couldn’t deny it was partially what had happened. Crystal had made it sound like Angel wanted to ravish her nonstop, and he probably had. She was gorgeous. In my freshman and sophomore year, I’d wanted to ravish her nonstop. She was thick and brown and beautiful with a head of curly hair that had transfixed me. But, I’d also noticed she was the type to catch feelings, whereas I’d always liked flying solo, so we’d quit fooling around.
Way later, after she’d started college, I’d thought she and Raymond would make a good couple, but . . . Ray’s apathy had caused her to give up. I didn’t blame her. “So, in high school, Angel was very low-key, didn’t date much, and mostly hung out with me and our other friends. Then all of a sudden he had this whole passionate relationship, and I remember wondering why it had been her to spark his interest in that way and not me. They were only together a couple of months, but still. I wondered.”
“Because Stephanie wasn’t interested,” Angel told them with a scoff. “Literally zero interest.”
“Friend-zoned,” Brandon muttered behind his drink.
I nearly died laughing at the flat look Angel aimed his way. They had a weird dynamic that I’d noticed as soon as everyone had gathered to eat. Interesting as in, Brandon spoke and Angel stared at him like he was an idiot. Then again, the whole picture of Angel holding down the grill and producing seriously delicious food while standing there like a walking thirst trap with no shirt on had been . . . amazing. I hadn’t been able to stop watching him.
Lots of people grilled. I grilled all the time at Ray and David’s house. So why was seeing Angel being the only competent dude in this group turning me on? It was super pathetic, but I’d stared him down the entire time I was eating my burger. No wonder my coworkers kept prying into our fake relationship.
“First off, friend-zoned is not a real thing,” Angel rumbled next to me. “It’s called someone not wanting to fu—be with you romantically. That’s just how life goes. Some people want you. Some people don’t. In Stephanie’s case, she didn’t want me until a . . .” He cocked his head and glanced at me with faux sheepishness. “When did we get together, nena?”
Across from us, Corrigan had hearts in her eyes at the endearment. I almost felt bad for her. Brandon was apparently so unromantic that Angel just acting like himself made her think he was a deity. “Three years ago,” I said. “Three years ago on August fifteenth.”
Next to me, Angel went still. My heart slammed into my rib cage at the thought that he would recall that day. The day he’d bought Victor a ticket to Chicago and held me as I sobbed at LaGuardia Airport. The way he’d stroked my hair and promised to check on my brother, to do anything he could, to be there for me no matter what, since no one else in my family would be.
I’d told him I loved him, and he’d said it in return. I’d never forget those three whispered words as he held me to his broad chest. Or his promise to never let me down.
It hadn’t seemed like a romantic thing so much as us trying to find comfort, but in that moment, Angel had meant so much to me. He’d been my fucking hero. After that is when I’d started wishing, hoping, he’d openly look at me the way he looked at me when he thought I wasn’t paying attention. That he’d touch me. Kiss me. I’d fantasized about it, even though I knew I wouldn’t be able to give him what he wanted. A relationship. Tradition. The happily ever after that the rest of our friends had.
“Well, you two are beautiful together,” Ryanne said, smiling. “You’ll have such gorgeous babies.”
I sighed inwardly. Angel shook his head.
“Nah, I’m sterile.”
Ryanne’s eyes went wide. “Oh my God, I’m sorry.”
“Nah, it’s fine.” Angel shrugged, grinning his slyest grin. “I’m pretty happy to just be with Steph.”
This time I went still. As tingles shot through me, intensifying when he kissed my forehead, I had a sudden urge to get distance from him and the lie I’d created. Instead, I went back to leaning against him and smiled.
Two more days.
Sleeping was a nightmare.
The only times Stephanie and I had shared a bed in the past had been during our on-again stages. We hadn’t necessarily always knocked out after wild banging, but I’d been comfortable with her next to me. I’d known we could touch each other if we wanted. That I didn’t have to suppress my attraction or instinct to cuddle up to her.
Now, as we lay awkwardly in the queen-sized bed with less than a bible’s width between us, I was overly aware of her presence next to me—the warmth of her body, the feel of her arm pressing against mine, and every time she sighed or shifted in her sleep. I lay awake for over an hour, staring at the ceiling or out the window.
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