by Box Set
The unfairness of it all made the back of her throat burn. She was standing inside this perfect moment, with Jeremy’s arms wrapped around her and his cheek warm and prickly against her temple, and it was a lie.
None of this was real. None of it belonged to her. She was just a placeholder until some better girl came along.
The second the song ended, Melody twisted out of his arms.
“Where are you going?” Jeremy asked.
“I just need some air,” she said without looking back.
She headed for the French doors leading out to the garden, followed the gravel path away from the terrace, and didn’t stop until she was standing in front of a tiered fountain at the edge of the lawn.
It was a cloudy night, so there were no stars reflected in the surface of the water, just the dull glimmer of a few tarnished coins in the murky depths. Long forgotten wishes, left there by Hannah maybe, or a younger Jeremy. The sight of them made Melody’s chest ache.
She heard footsteps crunch on the gravel behind her and shut her eyes.
“Hey,” Jeremy called out. “Melody?” His hand closed on her arm. “What’s going on with you?”
She forced herself to look at him. “Nothing.”
“Really? Because you’ve been acting annoyed with me all night. Did I do something to piss you off?”
She shook her head. “No, it’s nothing like that.”
“Then what? Because you’ve made it pretty clear you don’t want to be here.”
He was angry with her, and she couldn’t blame him. She’d been a terrible date. But she didn’t want to be here and couldn’t tell him why.
“I’m just tired of pretending,” she said, hugging herself against the chilly night air.
Something dark passed across his face. “Jesus. I’m really sorry, Melody. I swear, I will never again ask you to pretend you have feelings for me. I had no idea how hard it was for you.”
Shit.
Now she’d hurt him, which was the last thing she ever wanted to do.
“That’s not it,” she said desperately. “You don’t understand at all.”
His jaw clenched. “Then explain it to me. Please.”
“Jeremy, I…” She didn’t know how to say it. She didn’t know if she could say it. It was like she was standing on a narrow ledge with nothing but gaping darkness below. She was too afraid of falling to move.
“Well?”
Melody sucked in a shaky breath and stepped into the unknown. “I’m not tired of pretending I have feelings for you, I’m tired of pretending I don’t.”
Jeremy’s mouth opened, then closed again. “What?” he said, barely above a whisper.
Now that she’d gone and opened her big mouth, there was no turning back. “I don’t want to be on a fake date with you, Jeremy, because I want to be on a real date with you.”
He looked stunned, like he didn’t know what to say. Like he didn’t know how to tell her he didn’t feel the same way.
Humiliation trailed its icy fingers down her spine. She never should have said anything. She’d ruined everything. Now that he knew how she felt about him, they wouldn’t be able to be friends anymore. Sure, he’d try to pretend otherwise, but she could see exactly where this was going. He’d start distancing himself. Pulling away from her. Pretty soon, they wouldn’t talk at all.
She was going to lose him.
Chapter 23
It was the worst feeling in the world, standing there with her feelings laid bare, knowing Jeremy didn’t feel the same way. If only she’d kept her mouth shut.
Melody fixed her eyes on the gravel path under her feet, wishing it would open up and swallow her. Why wasn’t there ever a pool of quicksand around when you needed one? The cartoons she’d watched as a kid had given the impression life would have a lot more quicksand. Or any quicksand. All she’d ever encountered was metaphorical quicksand.
“Melody.” Jeremy’s voice sounded strained, like he could barely even say her name.
She didn’t want to hear this. She wanted to cover her ears and run away. Or burrow under the lawn like a gopher and hide. She would do anything not to have to stand there and listen to Jeremy try to explain how he liked her, but just as a friend. How he cared about her, but not enough. Not the way she wanted him to.
She didn’t want to be let down easy, she wanted to fling herself into the sun.
“Why do you think I offered to be your pretend boyfriend in the first place?” he asked.
What does that even—why was he asking her that? Melody threw up her hands. “I don’t know. Because you felt sorry for me?”
He blew out a breath. “I didn’t feel sorry for you. I wanted to be close to you.”
She looked up at him and blinked slowly, like an owl in a nature documentary. “You wanted to be close to me?” she repeated, stunned.
He huffed out an unsteady laugh, shaking his head. “Yes.”
“Then why didn’t you ask me on an actual date?” she shouted, not even caring if anyone could hear.
His tongue skimmed over his bottom lip. “I didn’t think you’d say yes.”
Her mouth fell open. “You’re Jeremy Sauer, one of the country’s most eligible bachelors! You’ve dated models and actresses! And you were afraid to ask me out?” It was utterly banana pants. She would have laughed if she hadn’t felt so much like crying.
He ducked his head. “None of the things that impress other women ever work on you. You always see right through me.”
“Well, that’s true,” she said, biting back a smile.
He took a step toward her. His eyes were wide and sparkling in the moonlight. “I honestly didn’t think you liked me like that.”
“I didn’t,” she said. “Until I did.” It felt like she was falling. Like she had vertigo. Like the tectonic plates were shifting under her feet. She honestly wasn’t sure how she was still upright.
Jeremy took another step closer and put his hands on her shoulders. “I’m going to kiss you,” he said, quiet and very serious.
Melody swallowed around the lump in her throat and nodded. Vigorously.
He bent his head so his lips were barely an inch from hers, and paused, maddeningly out of reach. “Just so we’re clear,” he murmured, his breath a tantalizing tickle on her lips, “this isn’t pretend. It’s for real.”
Her eyes fluttered closed as his lips finally met hers. His mouth was warm as summer, and he tasted like coming home at the end of a long day.
It was a perfect kiss, like something from a fairy tale or the end of The Princess Bride. Tender, but with a sizzle of electricity that left her toes tingling. Except it was so much better than a fairy tale, because it was happening to her and it was real.
Before she could stop herself, she started giggling against his mouth, which brought their perfect kiss to a screeching halt.
He tipped his head back to look at her, forehead creased.
“I’m sorry,” she gasped, curling her hands into his lapels to keep him close. “It’s just…all this time, you know? We’re so stupid.”
He smiled and wrapped her up in his arms, pressing a kiss into her hair. “At least we got there eventually.”
She nuzzled into his neck and just…breathed him in. “Thank god.”
“Hang on.” He let go of her and stepped back. “I have to do this right.”
“Do what?”
“Melody,” he said, taking both her hands in his, “will you be my date for my mother’s wedding?”
She started laughing again. “I’m already your date for your mother’s wedding!”
“I want it to be a real date. Officially. No more pretending, from this moment on.”
“Yes.” She was smiling so wide, her cheeks hurt. “I would love to be your real date.”
Jeremy’s gaze dropped to her mouth. Then he kissed her again, and there was absolutely nothing tender about this kiss. It was hungry and bruising and…wow.
Her hands roamed over his body of their
own accord until—yes, as a matter of fact, she was squeezing that gorgeous ass of his that had been taunting her for months. He moaned against her mouth in response, and she seriously wanted to climb him like a tree, but that was so not happening in this dress—damn this stupid, narrow skirt!—and anyway, they were only a few yards away from his mother’s wedding reception, so that would probably not be a super great idea.
Jeremy pulled back and rested his forehead against hers, breathing heavily.
“Any chance we can cut out of here early?” she asked, her hands still clutching his ass.
He squeezed his eyes shut. “I can’t. I wish I could—god, you have no idea how much I wish I could. But I think my mother will actually put a hit on me if I duck out this early.” He opened his eyes. “Unless…you wanted to feign sickness?”
“No way,” she said. “No more lying. If we have to stay, then we’ll stay.”
His thumb caressed her jaw and he kissed her—just once, lightly, like he was afraid of getting too carried away. Which was probably wise. The way he was looking at her right now made her want to drag him into the bushes and jump his bones, wedding receptions be damned.
“Come dance with me again?” he asked.
She would have preferred to stay right where they were and make out some more, but dancing sounded good too—and a lot safer—so she nodded and let him lead her back to the party.
His arms wound around her waist as soon as they stepped onto the dance floor, and she sank into his chest, deliriously happy. The jazz trio was playing “Our Love is Here to Stay,” and it felt like a sign, a promise of what was to come.
“Leave some room for the Holy Spirit, you two,” Drew teased, dancing past with Charlotte.
Jeremy raised his middle finger and held Melody tighter.
“Do you want to take a break?” he asked after two more songs, nuzzling his nose against her hair.
“Nope,” she sighed. “I’m good.” But then she worried maybe he’d asked because he was tired of dancing. “I mean, unless you want to take a break? Because I can totally take a break if you want to. I’m not, like, opposed to breaks if—”
“Melody,” he interrupted, smiling, “I don’t want to take a break. I love having you in my arms.”
“Okay, good,” she said, snuggling back into him. “Because I happen to love being in your arms, so that works out pretty well.” She could stay there like that forever. Except…well, except for the fact that as long as they were here it meant they weren’t back at her place having sex, which was what she really wanted to be doing.
Whoa.
She was going to have sex with Jeremy tonight.
At least…she assumed they were going to have sex. Unless he had some chivalrous idea about waiting until they’d gone on an arbitrary number of dates first. In which case, she was going to have to talk him out of that scheme right away. Because it was stupid.
It wasn’t like they hadn’t totally had sex already. She just wanted to do it again. Soon. Like, really soon. There was a chance she was going to spontaneously combust if she didn’t get him naked in the next few hours.
“Melody?” Jeremy said. “You okay?”
She looked up at him. “Yeah…why?”
“You’re sort of trembling.”
“Oh. Whoops.” She definitely had not meant for that to happen. But that was what she got for thinking about Jeremy naked when he was holding her in his arms. “Um, maybe a drink would be good, on second thought.”
He led her over to the bar, holding tight to her hand the whole way. “Scotch neat and a glass of the red,” he told the bartender. “You sure you’re okay?” he asked, turning back to Melody with a frown.
“I’m fine,” she promised, and rose up on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. How crazy was it that she got to do that? Like, whenever she wanted? And he actually seemed to like it? She shook her head, smiling up at him. “I was thinking about—” She clamped her mouth shut when the bartender pushed their drinks toward them.
“About?” Jeremy prompted, handing her her wine.
Melody waited for him to pick up his scotch before dragging him far enough away that they wouldn’t be overheard. She leaned in close, rising up on her tiptoes again to whisper in his ear. “I was thinking about getting you naked.”
His eyes went wide, and he grabbed the back of her neck with his free hand and kissed her—right there in the middle of the party, surrounded by his family, coworkers, and everyone. And not chastely, either.
“Whoa, cowboy,” she said, smiling as she pushed him away. “Not here.”
“You know,” he murmured, low and intent, “we can’t leave, but we could slip out for a few minutes and finish our tour of the house. I never got to show you my room last time.” His eyebrows waggled suggestively.
It was too adorable, him asking her up to his room in his parents’ house like a teenager. She couldn’t help laughing. “Jeremy Sauer, are you trying to lure me up to your bedroom?”
“Maybe.” He smirked. “Is it working?”
“Yes.” She laughed again. “Yes, yes, yes.”
Chapter 24
They took a meandering route upstairs using one of the back staircases so no one would see them leaving the party. Jeremy led her through a maze of hallways before stopping in front of a closed door that looked exactly like all the other closed doors they’d passed.
Before Melody could ask if this was it, he pushed her up against the door and kissed her—hard. His hands were on her shoulders, pressing her back against the wood, and she had to grab onto him so her knees didn’t give out beneath her. He reached down to turn the knob and they stumbled into the room, but his strong arms held her upright as he kicked the door closed with his foot.
When their mouths separated, she gasped for air, then looked around her and gasped again. Because his room? Was insane.
It had a fireplace. And a couch. And a chandelier. Also? It was ginormous.
“This is your bedroom?” she said, spinning around and gaping. “You realize this is bigger than most of the apartments I’ve lived in, right?”
Instead of answering, he kissed her again. She ran her fingers over his chest and down, until she found the button on his tuxedo jacket. When she had it undone, she pushed it off his shoulders, and he let go of her to shrug his way out of it and toss it onto a chair. He was wearing suspenders underneath, and she wasn’t sure why, but it did something to her—the sight of him in his crisp white dress shirt and suspenders.
Melody closed the distance between them again, dragging his head down to her mouth. His hands moved around to her ass and pulled her flush against his hips. If it hadn’t been for this damn narrow skirt, she would have jumped into his arms and wrapped her legs around his waist.
Instead, she settled for running her hands over his stomach, which was deliciously flat and firm. She tugged at his shirttails, desperate for skin-to-skin contact. The moan he let out when her fingers found his bare skin only made her want to touch him more.
But when she went for his belt buckle, he wrenched himself away, capturing her hands and moving them off his pants. “Melody, we can’t. We have to go back to the party in a few minutes.”
“I can be fast. Really, really fast.”
“The thing is,” he said, quietly solemn—and oh, the way he was looking at her was a lot, “I want to do this right. And this…” he gestured between them, “isn’t right. You deserve so much more than a quickie, and I want to give it to you. Will you let me do that?”
“Fine,” she said. “Even though it’s really hard.” He pressed his lips together, suppressing a laugh, and she groaned. “God, you’re like a child. Go ahead, laugh.”
Instead of laughing, he rested his forehead against hers, skimming his palm over her cheek.
“We can still make out though, right?” she asked.
He did laugh then, as he pulled her over to the bed—which was huge and looked like it had been built for kings to deflower maidens on—and sat
her down beside him on the edge of the mattress.
He pulled her legs across his lap, and they proceeded to make out like teenagers. Good old-fashioned making out, the kind she hadn’t done since high school. The kind of making out you tended to stop doing once you started having sex. She’d forgotten how nice it could be, just kissing and actually savoring it, because you weren’t in a hurry to move on to the next step.
Eventually, Jeremy moved her out of his lap and gently laid her back on the bed so he could kiss his way down her neck. Melody curled her fingers into his hair, pleased to discover it actually did feel like velvet.
But now that her mouth wasn’t busy, her brain started to wander off on its own. A lot had happened in a short span of time, and she hadn’t had a chance to process it all yet. So while Jeremy was kissing her, her brain was working on its own thing. And the problem was when she was thinking about something, she couldn’t help talking about it, because of her brain-to-mouth filter being defective.
“So, when you kissed me before…” she said as Jeremy licked his way into her cleavage.
“Hmmm?” he murmured from between her breasts.
“At my apartment, when my mom was watching.”
He groaned. “Are you for real talking to me about your mom right now?”
“When you kissed me that night,” she continued, undaunted, “was that real or fake?”
He stopped kissing her breasts and propped himself up on his elbow. “It was real,” he said, frowning. “Obviously, it was real. How could you not know that?”
“I don’t know! I thought—” She shook her head. “You did it, and then you just left. And you didn’t say anything about it the next day, so I thought maybe you kissed all your fake girlfriends like that.”
His mouth curved into a smile. “How many fake girlfriends do you think I have?”
“I don’t even know how many real girlfriends you have.”
He bent down to kiss her breastbone. “One.”
She shoved him off her. “What?”
