Love Me to Death

by Sharlay

  When I emerge from my room I follow the scent of food all the way to the kitchen.

  “Hey, where’d the short shorts go? I liked them.” I smirk then pass her my empty glass. I take a seat on one of the stools around the island and watch Ned washing the dishes. Full of surprises.

  “I better burn them then.”

  “Ouch, are you always this mean to your fake boyfriends?”

  “Nope, you’re my first.”

  “What?” I gasp in shock. “Are you saying that I took your ‘fake boyfriend’ virginity? I feel so honored, you should have said.”

  I hear her laugh. Best. Sound. Ever. Then my face is covered with a wet dish rag, one she just threw at me. I smile as I peel it off my face and wipe away the excess water with my hand.

  “I smell something nice. Did you cook or have you just sent away your secret chef?”

  “Very funny. Actually, I cooked and if you’re not careful you won’t get to taste my fantastic pancakes.” She turns to me and smiles. Her hair is pulled up in a messy bun. She has on a pair of gray yoga pants and a white tank top. Casual Ned appears to be sexy too.

  “And what’s so fantastic about these mysterious pancakes?”

  “The secret ingredient.” She leans back on the counter and looks at me playfully.

  “Which is?”

  “Now, if I told you it wouldn’t be a secret anymore, would it?”

  “I can keep secrets.”

  “Pfft.”

  “You don’t trust me?”

  “Nope,” she says, popping the “p” for extra effect.

  “Maybe you should draw up a contract then.”

  “I agree.” That was not Ned’s voice. My head swings in the direction of the voice, and I don’t like what I see. He’s tall, has messy blond hair, blue eyes, and he’s looking at Ned like he’s already seen her naked.

  “Jackson!” She runs up to him and throws her arms around his neck. Intimate. He swings her around a couple of times before gently placing her on the ground again. “What are you doing here? How did you get in?”

  “Jameson let me in.” Great, Jameson knows him well enough to just grant him access to Ned’s home. And I liked Jameson as well. Traitor. “I’m on a short vacation.” Good, he’s not here to stay.

  “I’m so glad you’re here.” I’m glad somebody is. “We have so much to catch up on.”

  “Great but first I heard something about your famous pancakes.” He laughs. She smiles. I scowl. Great, he’s tasted her pancakes before me.

  “Oh gosh, yeah. I’m so sorry … Cole this is Jackson. Jackson, meet Cole.”

  He walks up to me with a friendly smile on his face and stretches his hand out to me. I take it firmly in mine and shake it.

  “Hi,” I force out.

  “Hi, it’s nice to meet you.” He turns to Ned and smiles before saying, “Any friend of Neddie’s is a friend of mine.” I don’t like him.

  “I’m sure,” I mumble so only I can hear. However, the look Ned gives me tells me she heard too.

  “So, how do you guys know each other?” he asks casually.

  “I’m her boyfriend,” I say before Ned can answer.

  “Oh, wow, that’s great. Neddie never mentioned a boyfriend on any of our phone calls.” And there it is, right there, the reason I hate this jerk already.

  “It’s recent.” Ned jumps in. “Anyway, enough about me, does Misty know you’re here?”

  “No, I’m planning to go and surprise her once I leave here.” Don’t let us keep you.

  “She’ll love that,” she says before turning to face me. “Jackson and Misty are cousins,” she explains.

  “Nice,” I say as I shrug my shoulders. She gives me a funny look before turning back toward Jackson, the pancake-breakfast-slayer.

  “Well anyway, I just wanted to let you know that I am here. It’d be great if we could go for lunch or dinner to catch up,” he says.

  “Yeah, I’d love that.” Yeah, I’m sure he will too.

  “Great, well I’ll leave you both to it and go and see Misty. I’ll call you about meeting up.”

  “Perfect.” She smiles up at him.

  “Cale, it was great meeting you.”

  “It’s Cole.” Actually, it’s Brennan but whatever.

  “Sorry.” Course you are.

  “No problem,” I say before Ned walks him to the door. While she is off entertaining Jackson I go on a pancake hunt. It doesn’t take long since she’s laid them out on two plates and covered them with foil. I take one of the plates and sit back down on the stool. Peeling back the foil gives me the most delicious waft of pancake I have ever smelled. I break off a piece, and I’m pretty sure the pancake just made love to my mouth. That is some secret ingredient. After I’ve demolished the first pancake on my plate I rip a piece off the second. That’s the moment when Ned walks back in with a stupid smile on her face.

  “So, how long were you two sleeping together?” I ask with a mouth full of pancake.

  “Excuse me?” That stops her in her tracks. I sit back and watch her curiously as I take another bite of my pancake.

  “Does Misty know that you were banging her cousin?”

  “That is none of your business,” she says angrily as she rounds the island toward her plate of pancakes.

  “So, that’s a yes then?”

  “I don’t think that the details of my sex life have anything to do with you,” she growls.

  “Seriously, because you are always interested in mine.”

  “Always? I met you yesterday and the difference is that you gave your sex life to me in your contract.”

  “I did?” I raise an eyebrow.

  She goes red. Is little Miss Christina Grey embarrassed? “That came out wrong. I meant … you know what I meant.”

  “No, no I don’t, please elaborate,” I say with a smirk.

  “You signed your sex life away, Cole, that’s the deal.”

  “True but it would seem that your sex life is wide open for the taking since there was no ‘Ned’s sex life’ section in the contract.”

  “Number one, you’re a moron. Number two, I obviously can’t sleep with anyone if I’m supposed to be dating you, can I? And number three, yes I’ve slept with Jackson but that was a long time ago, not that it’s any of your business!”

  “Good,” I say calmly. She stares at me for a couple of seconds.

  “I said a lot of things, which bit are you referring to?”

  “The part where you said it was a long time ago.” I smile. Not that it bothers me, but if I have to commit to the contract then so does she.

  “Right.”

  “And for the record, if you stick to what you just said about not sleeping with anyone during our contract then you are going to die a very sexually frustrated woman.”

  She looks at me for a couple of seconds before I see the side of her lip twitching. Then she laughs and we’re right back to where we were before Jackson arrived.

  “Look, Ned it doesn’t have to be that way, I am more than happy to prevent sexual frustration from ever entering your life. Just say the word.”

  She rolls her eyes. “Pancakes?” I look at her quizzically and she blows out a frustrated breath. “Did you like my pancakes?” She explains slowly.

  “Not quite the word I was looking for but yes, I loved them.”

  “Good.”

  “You keep cooking like that and you’ll soon be the best fake girlfriend I have ever had.”

  “How many have you had?”

  “So far? Just you.”

  “Then who are you comparing me to?”

  “Babe, there are multiple personalities inside that hot little body of yours. I’m comparing you to yourself … all of you.”

  I’m not surprised when I feel the slap of the wet dish rag on my face again. What does surprise me is the giggle I can hear coming out of Ned. That is a sound I wouldn’t mind hearing every morning and that is not good at all.

  “Come on, I need y
ou to concentrate,” Ned says for the third time.

  We’ve been sitting on her L-shaped couch trying to memorize things about each other for the last three hours. She’s taking me through her “things people will expect us to know about one another” list.

  “I’m trying but this is boring.”

  “It might be boring but knowing this is what is going to keep that five thousand dollars coming every month, so suck it up and listen.” She has a point.

  “Ok, fire away,” I grunt in defeat.

  “My full name?”

  “Neddie Cara Waters,” I say unenthusiastically.

  “Good. Where did the name Cara come from?”

  “Your father’s grandmother.”

  “Wrong, it was my mother’s. Focus, Cole. How old am I?”

  “Twenty-five but you’ll be twenty-six next month.”

  “Good! Favorite color?”

  “Green.”

  “Band?”

  “You don’t have one but you love listening to John Lennon, the Beetles, and the Jackson Five. Basically nothing from this era.”

  “Hilarious! Ok, my favorite food?”

  “This is ridiculous,” I interrupt.

  “Pardon?”

  “I said—”

  “I heard what you said but it has to be done. People need to believe that we know everything about each other. We’re supposed to be madly in love.”

  “Knowing your favorite color or band is not proof that I know you.”

  “I don’t have a favorite band.”

  “I’m being serious, Neddie. If you want people to believe we’re ‘madly in love’ then this is not the way.”

  “Then what is Einstein? Please enlighten me?”

  “Before my mom died, my parents were in love for years.” I see her face soften. Why are you telling her this, Brennan? “And my father didn’t have a clue what my mom’s favorite color was or favorite food for that matter. And he didn’t need to. If she was hungry he knew a thousand different dishes to cook her and if he was buying her a bunch of flowers then he could pick out twenty colors she loved. Knowing someone is deeper than a few silly questions.” When I stop, she is studying my face.

  “Then how do you get to know someone like that?” she asks. Something about that question lets me know I’m in trouble. Yet I still answer …

  “You watch them. The things they do and say. Like the way you’re biting your bottom lip now; you only do that when you’re nervous or being really serious. And you have different laughs. When you’re flirting it’s like a little giggle but when it catches you in the moment it’s loud and infectious. And the reason you can’t make eye contact with me right now is because I am making you so incredibly nervous. I learned that in three hours. You can’t get to know someone by asking questions, Ned. It won’t work.” Her breathing has quickened, and I have to take a breath just to control myself.

  “What do you suggest we do then?” she whispers.

  “Follow me,” I say as I stand to my feet and offer her my hand. She accepts, and I pull her to her feet. “Where’s your bedroom?” I ask. She stops moving suddenly.

  “No, Cole,” she says firmly.

  “I’m not trying to have sex with you. You have such a one-track mind, woman. Although, studying your sex faces may prove useful in the future to, you know, validate our fakelationship.” She hits my arm and laughs.

  “First door on the left,” she says. I pull her in that direction in silence. When we get to the door, I give it a little nudge and pull her inside with me. It’s pretty much what I expected. Clean cream walls, cream carpet, silver bed sheets, and sleek and modern furniture. I drop her hand and place both of mine on my hips as I take a look around.

  “So, what are we doing in here?” she asks nervously.

  “It’s what we could be doing in here that I’m more concerned about.”

  “Cole! Be serious,” she chastises, causing me to laugh.

  “Ok, ok, I’m focusing,” I say trying to hold in my laughter. “You see, you can tell a lot about a person based on how they live and the things they buy. Your bedroom is your most intimate place, so I need to familiarize myself with it.”

  “Hold on a minute, are you telling me that you want to go through my things? Nope, not happening.”

  “Ned, come on this is not for my own pleasure.” She gives me a stern look. “Ok, I might get a little pleasure out of it, but the point is we’re supposed to be madly in love and yet I don’t know a thing about your bedroom or how you live.” I tilt my head and look at her.

  “You have a slight point but can’t I just tell you?”

  “It’s not the same. I need to discover the stuff that you would never tell me about.”

  “Yeah, that’s what I’m afraid of,” she mumbles.

  “Don’t worry, babe, I signed a contract; it’s not as if I can tell anyone much.” She looks petrified. I laugh. “Right, let’s get started,” I say rubbing my palms together. “See, first off, your walls are painted in a fresh, smooth, cream color, and your carpet is pretty much the same. This tells me that you like things organized, fresh but not giving off too much. But when you throw in the silver bed sheets and the sleek silver and black furniture, it tells me that you’ve had to spend a lot of time in a male-dominated environment. You’ve had to work hard to prove your worth among the males of this world. And even though you’re in the comfort of your own home, you’re still fighting to prove that. Perhaps for the few men that have been privileged enough to share this bed with you. Letting them know you were still in control in the middle of giving yourself to them was important to you.” She looks at me in shock. Gosh, I’m good.

  I jump on her bed and then start bouncing up and down.

  “What are you doing?” she demands.

  “Testing your bed. It’s comfortable. Ah, it’s foam. Your body molds into this, doesn’t it?”

  “Yes, I like to sleep comfortably, what’s your point?”

  “Nope, you like comfort that’s different. You like the feel of a man holding you close at night. You’ve closed yourself off to that and that’s where old Bernie here comes in,” I say, patting her mattress with my palm. “Sorry, Bernie, she’s just using you, dude.”

  She laughs.

  “You’re ridiculous.” She doesn’t tell me I’m wrong. I head over to her closet and slide the door open. I look up and all of her belongings are split into two sections. The left side displays all of her business suits along with shoes and purses to match. The right has more colorful and flimsy items of clothing. “Aha, you’re like two people, the business woman and the fun-loving woman who likes to play around and live life on the edge. But which one is the real you, Neddie? I’m going to take a bet on the colorful side of your closet.”

  “Are we almost done here?” she asks in frustration. Again, no denial.

  “We’re just getting warmed up.” I chuckle.

  “Great,” she grumbles.

  “Ah, what do we have here?” I say, walking toward one of her nightstands.

  “No,” she says as I walk past her. I ignore her. “Cole.” I ignore her again. “Do not open—”

  I open the top drawer. My, my, my, what do we have here? It’s Ned’s underwear drawer. I turn toward her and smile. She scowls at me which only makes this ten times more fun. I pull out a few items. There are mostly reds and blacks with the odd blue, purple and fuchsia in there. I like this drawer, a lot. I pull out a few panties which make me have to take a deep breath.

  “Now I know what’s under those yoga pants,” I tease while swinging a pair of her panties around my finger.

  “You’re a jerk.”

  “So I’ve been told.” I turn back to the drawer and drop the panty back inside. “What the hell is this?” I ask, picking up what can only be described as a few strings that have been glued together. I dangle the red string in the air so she can see it.

  “Oh my gosh,” she says, covering her face with her hands. “Tell me that this boy
is not holding my G-string in the air.”

  “Your G what?”

  “String, Cole!” she repeats in embarrassment.

  “You have got to be kidding me. Someone actually created butt floss and you bought it? What’s their slogan, ‘reaching the cracks you can’t’?”

  “You did not just say that.” Her face is red.

  “And that lame name. Who came up with that? I feel like some guy was walking down the street one day, saw something on the ground and said ‘Oh, gee I found a string,’ stuck a few more pieces together and started selling it to the gullible women of the world. I feel cheated for you, Ned.”

  “This is not happening,” she mumbles.

  “Oh, it’s happening. I have a good mind to take these back and get you a refund. As your fake boyfriend, I feel it’s my responsibility to tell you that these are not going to do any good in the winter, Ned. I think you should put it on right now so I can assess how much of you it covers. I’ll need this information for when we go back for the refund.” I smirk.

  “Ok, we’re done here,” she says as she marches toward me.

  “This is serious, babe. The warmth of your butt cheeks is at risk here.” I’m smirking again. She drags her underwear out of my hand, throws it in the drawer and pushes me out of her room.

  “I think today’s lesson is officially over.”

  “Really? I didn’t even get to look at your bras.”

  “And you’re not going to either!” she exclaims.

  “But we have to check if they need taking back to the store, too.”

  “I can assure you that I am happy with all of my underwear, thank you.”

  “Well, if you’re ok with wearing panties that leave both of your cheeks hanging out then it’s all right with me, too.”

  “I think it’s time for a break,” she says, shaking her head.

  “Ok, where are we going?”

  “Any place where you can’t get a hold of my underwear.”

  “Aren’t you wearing any?” I ask in shock.

  “Of course, I am,” she replies in confusion.

  “Then babe, I can get a hold of them no matter where we go.” I chuckle.