Chapter 19
“I wasn’t going to be one of those stupid girls who fell for the wrong guy. I had all my tools—a list of criteria, important questions, and had a healthy dose of realism. Then Reed came along and it turns out I am one of those stupid girls.”
—YankeesNo1Fan
Darcy woke to the feeling of something scratching her cheek. Reed hovered over her, a sexier-than-sin grin on his face.
“Good morning, sunshine.” His lips found the crook of her neck.
“Now that is a hell of a way to wake up.” She yanked his face to hers and melted into his kiss. “I wasn’t sure I’d see you this morning.”
Something flickered in his dark eyes and his heavy brows lowered into a frown. “I would have let you know if I were leaving.”
“Ah, yes, but you don’t seem to understand what a heavy sleeper I am. I can get woken up, have a full conversation with someone, and not remember a damn thing in the morning.”
His expression softened. “So next time I want to pry some top-secret information from you, I should do it in the middle of the night?”
Next time. Her heart thumped unsteadily, logic and desire warring despite her intention to remain emotionally unattached. But his hands roamed her body, more curious than sexual, as though he wanted to understand her on a physical level. He inspected her sleeve, his finger tracing all the intricate, little designs that made up the piece.
“Never been with a tattooed woman before?” she asked.
“I’ve never been with anyone like you.” He looked up, the warmth in his eyes quickly replaced by what she’d come to think of as Reed’s “public” face. “Women who haven’t grown out of their teenage rebellion phase are normally not my type.”
She rolled her eyes. “And I don’t like pretty boys who care too much about what other people think.”
“Pretty boys,” he said in mock outrage. “You’re going to pay for that.”
He slid under the sheets and buried his face against her bare stomach, rubbing back and forth so his whiskers tickled her.
“Stop it.” She squirmed and laughed. But the sound of the kettle whistling froze her to the spot.
Reed poked his head out from under the sheet. “What’s wrong?”
“Someone’s home.”
It was Monday. Pale rays of early-morning sun peeked through the curtains. Darcy glanced at the clock next to her bed: 5:30 a.m. Remi wasn’t supposed to be home yet.
“It’s nothing. Probably my roommate.” She bit her lip. “She normally spends Sunday night at a friend’s place because it’s near her work.”
Judging by the sounds coming from outside, Remi’s 6:00 a.m. barre class must have been canceled. Shit. She’d been counting on that so there would be no interruptions or awkward run-ins with Reed. Just when Darcy thought it couldn’t get any worse, she heard talking. Two voices. The other one sounded a hell of a lot like Annie.
Crappity crap crap crap!
“I should probably get going,” Reed said, pressing her into the bed with a long, searching kiss. “I’m usually in the office by seven, and I can’t very well turn up in my baseball gear.”
“What would people say?” she teased in a quiet voice.
Would it be rude to ask him to leave via the fire escape? Probably. Of all days, why did Remi have to change her plans today? Ugh. Maybe she could ask them to cover their eyes while he left.
“Why do you look stressed out all of a sudden?” He tilted his head. “I thought those three orgasms I gave you last night would have sent you into a bliss coma.”
“It was four, at my count.” She tried to laugh, but the sound came out weird. “I, uh…didn’t tell my roommate you were coming over.”
“I won’t walk to the bathroom naked then.” He rolled off her and got out of bed.
His sculpted body drew her gaze and she sighed. The statue of David had nothing on that ass. Reed’s lack of modesty made Darcy smile—while she was reaching for the sheet, he was strutting around like he was Adam in the Garden of Eden.
She leaned over the edge of the bed and grabbed a fresh pair of panties from the bottom drawer in her nightstand. As Reed tugged on his underwear, Darcy’s mouth dried. Why couldn’t she haul him back into bed so they could screw like bunnies and forget about the real world?
“I should warn them.” Still holding the sheet to her chest, she motioned for Reed to hand her the bra that had ended up on the floor beside his foot. “They don’t know I’m seeing anyone.”
Are you even seeing him? You haven’t talked about what this means. He’s made it clear he doesn’t do relationships.
“Right.” His expression was unreadable, his dark eyes concealing whatever reaction he might’ve had. But he didn’t jump in to make it clear they weren’t seeing each other.
You’re not dating. Get it through your thick skull.
“I’m, uh…I’m going out there.” She hopped out of bed and grabbed the robe hanging from a hook on the back of her door.
She caught a glimpse of herself in the antique mirror that hung on the wall just outside her bedroom and shook her head. Between the robe, the wildly rumpled hair, and the fuchsia flush in her cheeks, she looked the very definition of up all night not sleeping.
“Hey, you.” Remi leaned against the back of the sofa, looking like she was still half-asleep, a mug of tea cupped between her hands. “Late night?”
“Anything you want to tell us?” Annie sat at the table wearing a pretty floral dress under a black cardigan, half a bagel in one hand. She, by comparison, looked totally awake.
“Aren’t either of you working today?” Darcy pulled the belt of the robe tighter around her waist, stalling while she tried to figure out how to broach the situation.
“Annie’s boss is forcing her to take the day off since she worked all weekend.” Remi yawned and toyed with the tag dangling from her cup. “And she convinced me to swap classes so we could do brunch. We’re going to that Aussie café, Bluestone Lane. I’ve got a hankering for an avo smash.”
Annie laughed. “She needs to be with her people.”
“You try moving countries and having to repeat yourself every time you order a glass of water,” Remi grumbled. “Anyway, we thought you might want to come if you’re not working early today.”
“Uh, sure.” She bounced on the spot. “I’m not going in until twelve.”
A Cheshire cat–like smile spread across Annie’s face, and she exchanged looks with Remi, who suddenly appeared more alert. “So, who’d you have over last night?”
“Just…a friend.”
“A male friend?” Remi grinned.
“Deets. Now.” Annie pointed to the free chair at the table.
“Well, the thing is…” Crap. Why was this so awkward? She shouldn’t be ashamed for having a guy over. Her friends were only teasing, but they had no idea how confused Darcy was about the whole thing. “He’s still here.”
Two heads snapped in the direction of Darcy’s room, where she’d pointedly closed the door so Reed got the hint not to come out until she was ready for him. The apartment was eerily quiet for a heartbeat, and when a soft thump came from Darcy’s room, Remi giggled.
“Who is he?”
“He’s no one.” The minute she answered, a repulsive taste filled her mouth. Would Reed have heard her? “Like I said, just a friend. Can you please hide in the kitchen or something?” God, even asking made her feel like a loser.
“Oh, babe.” Remi slung an arm around her shoulder. “There is nothing to be ashamed of. We’re happy for you. I’m glad you’re getting some.”
“Please,” she repeated, pressing her fingertips to her temples. “It’s already awkward. I don’t need any help in that department.”
But as she watched the expression on both Remi and Annie’s faces morph from intrigued to downright shock
ed, she knew shit was about to hit the fan. Sucking in a breath, she turned and saw Reed standing in her doorway, dressed in his baseball outfit from yesterday, his Mets hoodie slung over his shoulder. The dark shadow along his jaw gave him a dangerous edge. But what looked even more dangerous was the chilly expression on his face. His jaw was tight, his eyes looking right through her.
“I’ve got to run,” he said, walking over to her and politely nodding at Remi and Annie. “Ladies.”
Awkward alert. How long had he been standing there? Was she supposed to introduce him to her friends? Oh crap, why was this so hard?
“Uh, Reed, this is Annie and Remi.”
“Nice to meet you both.” He pierced her with a look, as though waiting for her to say something more, but Darcy’s tongue felt heavy in her mouth. “I guess I’ll see you around.”
Oh God, it sounded terribly cliché. Or was it code for something else? Had last night not been as magical and explosive as she’d thought? What if he’d been dying to get out all night? Surely if he’d hated it, he would have left.
Her brain whirred. Something had changed in the time she’d come out of her bedroom—but was it because he’d heard her call him “no one”? Or maybe it was because Remi and Annie were gaping at him, their stance on his presence clear. The last thing she needed right now was their judgment.
Reed paused, as though waiting for a response, but Darcy couldn’t get her brain to operate her mouth. When it was clear she wasn’t going to say anything further, he headed for the door. His hand brushed lightly over her arm before he left. A moment later, the front door slammed shut and the air rushed out of Darcy’s lungs.
What in the hell had just happened? Her mind had already stockpiled worst-case scenarios for her to stress over.
Super helpful, brain. I can always count on you.
This wasn’t supposed to be complicated. When she’d started seeing Ben, everything had swum along without a hitch. There was no dancing around things, no concerns over feelings or whether it was okay to ask if you could see the person again. Shouldn’t casual sex be easier?
“Reed McMahon, are seriously crazy?” Annie looked at her as though she’d sprouted a second head.
“So much for you minding your own business,” Darcy grumbled.
“That explains why you were so awkward about us meeting him.” Annie shook her head. “What the hell were you thinking sleeping with him?”
“I was thinking it’s my decision, not yours.” She folded her arms across her chest.
“We’re not judging you.” Remi shot Annie a stern look. “We don’t want you to get hurt. You know he’s not the guy who’s looking to settle down.”
“Maybe I’m not looking to settle down either.”
Remi pulled Darcy into a hug. “Hey, if that’s all it is, then I’ll shut my mouth right now…and so will Annie.”
Annie huffed. “I won’t stand by and watch some sleazebag take advantage of my best friend.”
“How do you know he’s a sleazebag, huh?” Darcy shut her eyes. “Everything that people are saying about him is based off a few reviews.”
“He’s got at least sixty reviews now,” Annie corrected. “Imagine how many women he’s slept with. The man is a walking advertisement for venereal disease.”
“How do you know he actually slept with all those women? Is it not possible he’s turned a bunch of them down and writing a fake review is the best way to get revenge? Or maybe people started up multiple accounts? It happens. He probably doesn’t even know them all.” She shook her head. “Would you say the same thing about me if I slept with a lot of men? Would that make me a slut?”
Remi and Annie looked at her with saucer-like eyes, but the floodgates were open and there was no stopping her now.
“Don’t you think this world would be a better place if we all stopped judging one another so much? God, I put up with this shit my whole life thanks to my family and I’m so fucking sick of it. Reed is the only person who’s never expected me to be someone other than who I am.”
Reed might be wrong for the long term—or even short term—but his reputation was out in the open. No way any skeletons could jump out of the closet and throw her off balance. But then she’d done the stupid thing and opened up to him…and he to her.
Remi tried to pat her arm and soothe the situation, but Darcy waved her off. “You two go to brunch. I’m not feeling so good all of a sudden.”
Chapter 20
Marriage of convenience? Apparently, they’re not just for romance novels.
Just when we thought the worst of the worst couldn’t stoop any lower…in walks Reed McMahon. A fake marriage. Have you ever heard of something so ridiculous? Only the ultimate commitment-phobe would use what should be the best day in someone’s life to close a business deal. Luckily for us, we managed to track down the lucky woman who dodged a bullet to get the inside scoop.
“I was one of those girls who’d always dreamed of being married,” said Barbara Elizabeth Waverly. “I knew exactly what kind of dress I wanted to wear and how happy I would be to have my father walk me down the aisle.”
If the name sounds familiar, it may be because you’ve heard of the jewelry store Waverly & Whittaker. Barbara’s great-grandfather, Edward Waverly, cofounded the company back in 1911. They’ve long been known for their elaborate designs and prestigious customer base, most notably providing the jewels worn by socialite Miranda Tulley at her second and third weddings.
Needless to say, landing a client such as Waverly & Whittaker would certainly have been a career boost for an up-and-coming public relations whiz kid. That’s exactly what Reed McMahon intended to do.
“Reed was good to me,” Barbara said. “But it was clear that he intended our union to be for some other purpose. He assured me it had nothing to do with my family, although when you come from money like I do…you always suspect.”
According to Barbara, Reed’s list of demands for the wedding included an out-of-the-way location and absolutely no journalists or photographers. Why would a man who intended to marry the love of his life not want to capture it on film? Highly suspicious.
Barbara eventually called off the wedding, reporting to papers at the time that she and Reed had decided mutually that it wasn’t right to proceed. “I’m with an incredible man now,” she said. “We have the kind of love that fills up every cavity in your soul. It’s all encompassing and totally real. I really do believe I’m meant to be with my fiancé. He’s my best friend.”
There you have it, ladies, a perfect lesson in why it’s right to wait for the perfect man. Don’t sell yourself short by accepting the first guy who comes along, unless he’s exactly what you want in a partner. Be discerning, be informed, and understand that you are worthy of the perfect man.
With love,
Your Dating Information Warrior
Helping the single women of New York since 2018
“Reed, I am so sorry.”
Barbara’s tearful voice came through his work phone and struck like a tiny pickax into the side of his head. Thanks to the Google Alert he’d set up on his name so he could keep track of what people were saying—and possibly because he had masochistic tendencies—he’d seen the latest drivel on the Bad Bachelors site.
Barbara called before he’d even had the chance to pick up the phone. That was one thing he’d always liked about her; she was honest to a fault.
“Calm down, Barbie,” he said, leaning back in his desk chair. “It’s okay.”
“No it’s not. She totally twisted what I said and took everything out of context.” She hiccupped. “I swear if I’d known what the article was really about I would have refused the interview.”
He rubbed a hand over his face and sighed. When he’d first read the article—which had the most clickbait title ever—he’d been furious at her. But that hadn’t lasted more than five se
conds, because he knew that Barbara wasn’t the spiteful type. And if you read the article closely, the most damaging statements came from the author, not Barbara. He could easily see how her quotes were used to say something other than what he was sure she’d intended.
Some days he wondered if he should have gone through with marrying her. She was a delightful person—bubbly and sweet. But there was one thing true about the article: he had intended the marriage to be fake. It was around the time that his father was diagnosed and Reed had lost his grip on reality. A wedding had seemed like the best gift he could possibly give the old man, since Adam had wanted to see his son married since forever.
Barbara had been a logical choice. They were friends, coworkers, and she was the closest he’d come to falling in love. Turns out falling into friendship wasn’t quite enough for her in the end. But he’d never once held it against her.
“What did you think the interview was for?” he asked, trying to get her talking so she’d calm down.
“She said it was for a special on weddings for the Bad Bachelors site. Most of the questions were about Mark and everything we have planned for November, but none of that made it into the article. Of course.”
“Ah, so it was a ruse to get you talking.”
“And the bit about me thinking you wanted our wedding to be for some higher purpose…” She sniffled. “I was talking about your dad, not because I thought you wanted access to my family. And that was after the interview. I thought it was off the record.”
“I believe you.”
A few weeks ago, he might have flipped his shit about the article, but ever since he’d left Darcy’s apartment on Monday morning, he was finding it hard to care about anything. Overhearing her call him “no one” had struck him right in the chest—not to mention the fact that she’d tried to convince her friends to leave so they wouldn’t meet him. But it was his reaction that’d angered him more than anything else. He wasn’t supposed to be someone to her…that was the whole point of casual sex.
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