Pretend I'm YoursA Single Dad Romance

by Vivian Wood

  “Are you drinking or not?”

  Slowly, Effie raised the glass to her lips and took a drink.

  “Dirty girl.”

  “Shut up. Fine, you want to play like that? Never have I ever gotten myself off looking at photos of someone I know.”

  “Now who’s calling bullshit?”

  She shook her head. “It’s true. I think that’s a guy thing, needing constant visual stimulation. I mean, yeah, girls watch porn sometimes. But the biggest turn on is what’s in our heads. I’ve never looked at a picture of anyone I know.”

  “Okay, fine,” he said. King took a long drink.

  “Who?” she asked.

  “First you want me to name-drop celebrities and now you’re asking who I jerk off to. You’re quite the gossip, but I’ll never tell.”

  “Yeah, right. I think I know.”

  “Oh, yeah? Who?”

  “Bill Murray.”

  “You think I jack off to pictures of Bill Murray?”

  Effie rolled her eyes. “No! I think you met Bill Murray. I read that he’s always photo bombing random people and walking around in normal places.”

  “Well, you’re wrong. Too bad you asked about that and not the other thing, because I was about to tell you one or the other.”

  “I don’t need to ask about the other thing.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I already know that for sure,” she said pointedly.

  “Wow, someone’s full of themselves!”

  “Are you going to go or not?”

  “Alright. Never have I ever… masturbated anywhere besides my own home or a hotel room.”

  Effie gave him a strange look and King held her gaze. It felt like a lifetime, but she finally raised the glass to her lips.

  “I knew it—”

  “How did you know?” she cried.

  “Well, I didn’t. It was a lucky guess. So tell me where.”

  “I don’t have to tell you anything.”

  “Actually, you do. According to the official Never Have I Ever rules, if only one person drinks they have to tell the story.”

  “Crap, you’re right. But wait a minute! You wouldn’t tell me—”

  “Sorry, I just remembered. And there’s no retro-active regulations in this very mature, official game.”

  Effie sighed. He could tell by the flush of her cheeks she was tipsy.

  “Fine,” she said. “I was in college and on my way home from a night out. It was the year I spent living with a roommate, and we were so broke we had to share a bedroom. I was really… horny… and I saw she was home when I pulled into the driveway. The walls were paper thin at that apartment and I just really needed to… you know…”

  “And?”

  “And I got myself off in the parking lot, okay?”

  King laughed, but the story had already turned him on. He shifted on the couch to try and hide his erection.

  “And what were you thinking about? Given that you women are such imaginative creatures you don’t need any visual stimulant?”

  “I don’t remember,” she muttered. “Anyway, I answered your question. Now it’s my turn.”

  “Go for it.”

  The blush left her cheeks and she looked at him sharply. “Never have I ever, in the last five minutes, gotten a hard-on for someone in this room.”

  The silence in the room was only interrupted by the occasional crackle of the fire. “Effie—”

  “Are you going to play or not?”

  King brought the tumbler to his lips. He drank so fast, even in his buzzed state he felt the burn in his throat.

  “So tell me about it,” she said.

  “What?”

  “The rules. If only one person drinks, you have to tell the story.”

  “Effie, this is getting—”

  “What, are you scared? I did it.”

  “If that’s what you want,” he said. King put the empty tumbler down on the table. “You’re hot, okay? I mean, that’s not a secret, and it’s not a secret that I think so. There’s the brandy, and you’re telling me how you get yourself off in parking lots—”

  “Hold on, I’m not telling you just out of the blue. It’s part of the game.”

  “Is it?” he asked. “It doesn’t matter why you’re telling me. I’ve got this gorgeous woman in front of me, we’re all alone at a remote cabin, and all I can think about is her hiking her skirt up in a car where anyone can walk by. Making herself come when, if you really want to know the truth, I want her to come for me.”

  Effie swallowed. “Truth or dare?”

  “That’s not what we’re play—”

  “Truth or dare, King?”

  “Dare,” he said. He felt like his heart was going to explode from his chest.

  “Kiss me.”

  “Effie—”

  “Are we playing or not?”

  Before he could second guess himself, and because he knew it was stupid, King lunged at her. She tasted like he remembered, but with a glaze of sweet brandy on top.

  He hadn’t realized how perfectly their lips fit together, or that he’d been searching for that same fullness and flavor for the past few years. Effie opened her mouth to him and he flicked his tongue across her teeth.

  “It wasn’t a skirt,” she whispered into his ear.

  “What?”

  “I wasn’t wearing a skirt when I got myself off in the parking lot.”

  “Oh?”

  “It was summer. It was shorts. Kind of like this,” she said.

  He felt himself grow stiffer as he growled into her mouth. All he wanted was her, regardless of the consequences.

  He’d done his best, but he couldn’t hold himself at bay anymore. All he could think about was how wet she would be. How tight.

  He felt her reach for his belt and her fingertips lightly flick across his groin.

  Not again.

  Brusquely, he pushed her hand away. Effie looked at him in shock. He heard how their panting was in sync.

  “No,” he said. “You just broke up with my brother.”

  Effie groaned. “Not this—”

  “You’re hurting, I get it. And I don’t blame you, but I’m not going to take advantage of you.”

  “You’re not taking advantage of me! I want to—”

  “Effie,” he said as he stood up. “I want to, too. But I need to know that mine is the only name you’re going to call out in bed.”

  She looked confused, but he had to get out of there. King made a beeline for the bedroom, confident that she wouldn’t follow.

  Still, he listened for her footsteps for an hour. They never came.

  His erection wouldn’t go away. He couldn’t stop thinking about the kiss and how right it had all felt.

  It was a mistake, he knew that. Effie had done him dirty one before, and she’d literally just ran away from his brother’s condo a few days ago.

  King rolled onto his stomach and moaned, the pain of his blue balls providing a slight distraction. He couldn’t tell if he was angrier at Effie, or Thorne, or himself.

  This whole thing is just too fucked up, he thought.

  It didn’t help that the brandy still swam lazy circles in his head. He’d never wanted to run away more than he did in that moment. However, he was stuck and he didn’t know for how long. He also didn’t know how much longer he could hold it all together.

  11

  Effie

  For the first time since she got stuck in the cabin, she didn’t wonder where she was when she awoke. It felt almost normal now, being cuddled up in the bed with the flames still licking away at the glass from King’s stoking the night before.

  As Effie stretched overhead, the morning sunlight that poured into the bedroom got suddenly brighter.

  “Oh, my God,” she said. “The lights. The lights!”

  She didn’t know where King was, but she raced down the hall in search of him. “The lights—”

  “I know,” he said as he flipped one
of the Keurig cups into the machine. “The electricity is back. We finally get some decent coffee that I don’t have to make stovetop.”

  There was an edge in his voice, and she suddenly remembered. The game the night before. How close they’d come to something happening.

  She needed to make up an excuse, pronto.

  “My phone,” she said. “I… I didn’t want to keep it on and drain the battery.”

  “So, go,” he said curtly. He glued his eyes to the counter as he scrubbed mercilessly at an invisible spot.

  What’s his problem? she wondered as she raced down the hall. It took her phone a minute to boot up after being dead.

  “Looks like the snow’s abated quite a bit!” King called from the kitchen. “I’m guessing we can get out of here tomorrow at the latest. Thank Christ.”

  Her heart sank a little. She’d started to develop a pretty intense case of cabin fever, but there was a part of her that would miss this. They’d fallen so neatly into their little routine. Sexually charged, of course, but it felt almost normal.

  When her phone flickered to life, she gulped at the sight of all the missed calls from the vet clinic. It looked like her voicemail was piling up, too.

  Shit. I never even called in to work, she thought. How many days was it now?

  She couldn’t remember exactly.

  Effie ignored the messages from her mom, Thorne and Renee and scrolled to the clinic’s number. Maybe her mom was right, at least with some things. She needed to take some responsibility, and it started with her job.

  “Paws-itive Veterinary Clinic, how can I help you?” chirped the young receptionist. They all sounded the same. Effie could never tell who was who.

  “It’s me, Effie,” she said. “Is Dr. Yung—”

  “Effie? Oh, my god! We thought you died or something. Dr. Yung is pissed.”

  “What… what did she say?”

  “All kinds of stuff.”

  “Well… can I talk to her?”

  “I wouldn’t want to, but hold on. I’ll call her up here.”

  Effie could feel her pulse race as she listened to the maddening elevator music.

  Maybe Dr. Yung got called away on an emergency case. Maybe she’s not actually there at all. Maybe—

  “Effie?” She couldn’t gauge anything from the voice. Dr. Yung sounded professional as always.

  “Dr. Yung—”

  “Where on earth have you been? Are you alright? You didn’t call in, we were worried about you. Dawn had to cover your shifts. All of them.”

  “I’m alright, I just—”

  “If you’re alright, there’s no excuse.”

  “Excuse me?”

  Dr. Yung sighed heavily into the phone. “You millennials, I should have known better. I should have hired the retiree coming back to work, but no, I took a chance on you. And look where that got me.”

  “Dr. Yung, I’m really sorry, I—I found out my fiancé was cheating on me, and—”

  “And what? You think you’re the only girl who’s ever had a breakup? You couldn’t even be bothered to call in sick, at least put a little effort into faking it?”

  “I’m sorry?” Effie asked. She realized how immature and selfish it sounded.

  Shit.

  “Are you asking me? Because if you are, I disagree. I don’t think you are sorry. Not sorry about leaving everyone here hanging, including the patients. You are sorry about the situation you’re in right now. That’s the problem with your generation, it’s all instant gratification and then you’re shocked when the world doesn’t serve you a silver platter.”

  “I’m calling now,” Effie said miserably. She knew she made it worse.

  “Oh, well thank you! Let me do you a favor in return. Since you love taking sudden extended vacations, consider yourself on permanent holiday.”

  “You mean—”

  “You’re fired, Effie. I already have a replacement lined up. I was just going to give you the end of the week, just in case. I was giving you the benefit of the doubt.”

  “But if you fire me… wait, can we work something else out? If I could be laid off—”

  “You think you’re in the position to be asking favors of me? I know what you’re thinking. If you’re laid off, you can get unemployment. And then what? Skate by on that, milking the system until it dries up? No, I’m not doing that because you’re not laid off. You’re fired.”

  Effie felt the hot tears that pricked at her eyes.

  “I’m sorry,” she repeated.

  “That’s not good enough. I’ll have Dawn mail you your things.”

  Dr. Yung slammed down the phone.

  That was the thing about landlines. They could really make a statement. She tried to gulp down the sadness, but there was no more holding it in.

  Effie let out an animal keen as she sank to the floor. She heard King’s angry cleaning in the kitchen stop briefly before he was back at it.

  There’s no way I’ll make ends meet without a job. Not that it would have done much anyway—not with Thorne holding my whole freaking family hostage.

  She sobbed heavily as she crawled into the great room. The little white rabbit was curled up in the corner of the boot box. It looked up at her with bright eyes, equal weight on all its limbs.

  At least one of us is okay, she thought.

  Effie gingerly picked up the rabbit and cradled him to her chest.

  I have no job, no fiancé, and an ex who’s hell bent on ruining my life. What did I do to deserve this?

  But she knew, even as the rabbit sniffed at her palm with its velvet nose. Sometimes it takes karma awhile to come back around. This was payback for what she’d done. For what she and Thorne had done together.

  Was it worth it? she could almost hear her mother asking.

  Effie tried to think of how much was in her checking account. She knew there was nothing in savings. Around eight hundred dollars.

  That wasn’t even enough to make the full mortgage payment, and it was what, the twenty-fourth? There’s no way she could come up with the payment in time.

  Effie heaved and rocked as the tears kept falling. Somehow, the rabbit wasn’t afraid. It pressed into her palm, happy for the heat.

  She didn’t know how long she was there, splayed out on the floor, but eventually King made his way into the room with a Swiffer in hand. He pretended to ignore her, and she went along with it.

  I’m sure I look like a frigging monster, she thought.

  Effie could tell her eyes were already puffy and red.

  She did her best to hold in the tears, at least until he finished his maddening cleaning. When King moved to the coffee table to wipe it down and straighten it up, he was just an arm’s reach away.

  “Jesus, what’s wrong?” he finally asked, though he didn’t look at her.

  “I… I just got fired,” she whispered as she stroked the bunny’s soft back.

  “Well, what did you expect? Did you even tell your boss you weren’t coming in?”

  “No,” she admitted. “I mean, with the snow, the storm, I just… I didn’t realize…”

  “You do know it’s not snowing like this in the city, right? For everyone else, it’s just been a normal week. And who gives a damn if you got fired? Get another job.”

  “Yeah, like that’s so easy! Or maybe it is for you, I don’t know. Sorry I don’t have a ‘family business’ to run to.”

  She clamped her mouth shut as King grew still. It was a low blow, and she knew it.

  “Maybe you’re right,” he said carefully. “But I didn’t start with the family business because I needed money. Besides, you’re fine. You’ll get another job, easy.”

  “Yeah, well, not in time to pay the bills this month. And it’s not just a job, anyway. It was the perfect hours—”

  “Perfect hours are a luxury, Effie. Get over it. What, you think you might hit rush hour during your commute now?”

  “The perfect hours to take care of my grandmother!” she snapped.
“I could take an extended lunch hour and work later to do her mid-day tasks. I could choose flexible hours a week in advance to work around her appointments. I could—”

  “Okay, okay! I’m sorry. I didn’t realize,” he said.

  His guilty look softened her. It wasn’t his fault, anyway.

  You shouldn’t be dumping all your crap on him, she thought.

  “No, I’m sorry. I’m the one who should apologize. This isn’t your mess, you didn’t ask to be stuck here with a crazy, dramatic girl.”

  She almost said “ex,” but bit her tongue just in time to keep that drama out of the equation.

  “No problem,” he said with a shrug.

  She knew he meant it. It’s one of the things she always loved about him, how he could forgive so quickly and genuinely. Effie was used to dragging out grudges forever. It was an unfortunate habit she got from her mom.

  But on the flip side, just because King could forgive didn’t mean he’d forget. She’d made that mistake once before, in high school.

  When Effie had been sloppy and didn’t put the emergency brake on his car when he was teaching her to drive stick, he sent her a photo the next day of it smashed into the mailbox at the bottom of the hill. She’d called immediately, begging forgiveness, and he’d given it immediately.

  However, that afternoon when he didn’t give her the keys, she asked, “Aren’t I driving?”

  “Not after you let my car roll into the mailbox. You could have killed someone.”

  “But you said you forgave me!”

  “I did, I do. But that doesn’t mean you get to drive my car again.”

  At the time, Effie crossed her arms in a huff. Now, she somewhat understood.

  Effie carefully put the rabbit back in the box and pulled herself onto the couch. King rubbed diligently at a scratch she couldn’t see on the coffee table.

  “I just don’t know what I’m going to do,” she moaned. Effie let her head drop into her hands. “Even if I got a new job right away, I wouldn’t get my first paycheck for maybe a month. I could donate plasma, I guess. I did that in college one summer. See what I have to sell—”

  “Effie, is there anything you can do about this situation right now?” King asked. He stopped his cleaning and looked at her.

  “Well, no,” she admitted softly.