Fake it Baby_A Best Friend's Brother Romance

by Tia Siren

  I shot Mark an angry look, pressing my finger to my lips. The curly-haired girl behind the counter was poised there, her eyes, over-lined already, were wide with everything she’d just heard.

  “Sorry,” Mark said, “It was just a surprise, that’s all.”

  “And I’m sorry for that,” I said, “But I’m not sure what to do at this point.”

  “Neither am I,” he admitted. “All I know is that I actually like you. I’ve kept trying to deny it to myself, but that’s gotten me nowhere.”

  He lowered his eyes to his fist which was clenching and opening again. Meanwhile, Jake looked even more upset, like he was torn between apologizing to Mark and yelling at him.

  “Are you for real?” he finally said.

  “What do you mean?” Mark snapped back.

  “I’ve seen you, man,” Jake said, frowning, “I’ve seen the way you are with these women—these two-week ‘girlfriends’ of yours. Are you really attracted to Brooke because she’s something special or because she’s the one girl you may not be able to have?”

  Mark banged his fist on the table, sending the little ice cream container jumping.

  “I don’t know, okay?” he said, in a low tense voice, “All I know is that when I’m with Brooke, when I think of her, things feel different. I laugh, I have fun. I forget myself. It’s like—I’m not the way I am with other women—just thinking about the next time I’ll get laid.”

  He shot Jake a sidelong glare.

  “And who’s to say that it’s the real deal with you either, lover boy? I mean, just because she’s the first woman you slept with since your ex—”

  “She isn’t the first woman I’ve slept with since my ex,” Jake said, in a low voice.

  “What?” Mark asked, “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

  “I don’t always tell you everything, you know,” Jake replied evenly.

  “Bullshit,” Mark said, “I don’t believe you.”

  “It was a few months after she had left me,” Jake said, now directing his gaze and words to me, “I started dating again, met a few nice girls. Lots of nice girls, actually.” The corners of his lips turned down in a frown. “But none of them were ‘it’ if you know what I mean. Then I met a girl who was a bit more fun and nice than the others. So I gave it a go.”

  He shrugged.

  “It was just as anticlimactic as I’d expected. I knew how I was supposed to be feeling after these things, I could remember what real intimacy and attraction felt like—I just couldn’t feel it. Not then. Not until now.”

  His gaze went to me.

  “You may be unsure why or even if things are different with Brooke for you, Mark. But I have no doubt in my mind that Brooke is right for me. She’s funny, sexy-as-hell, just what I’d want in a partner.”

  He took my hand, squeezed it. Right now, his pupils had flicked to my lips and almost swallowed his irises, while his lips were parted with what he wanted to do. A tremor of excitement surged through me.

  “Sorry if this is way forward,” he said, tearing his gaze off my lips, “I just don’t want you to have any doubts on where I stand as far as you’re concerned.”

  I nodded, squeezing his hand back as I extricated mine. If I kept touching and holding him like this, then it would be way too hard for me to be strong. Because as much as I cared for him, I couldn’t lie to him about my feelings for Mark.

  “Thank you, Jake. I feel really strongly about you too. We definitely have a connection, there’s no denying that.”

  My words were like a punch to Mark’s face. His stormy eyes shot me a desperate look.

  “Do you really care for us equally?”

  His direct question caught me off-guard. I looked away from his insistent gaze, although the question still repeated itself in my mind. Did I really care for them equally?

  I thought of Mark’s playful little flicks and jokes, the merciless way he’d fucked me senseless. A wetness swelled between my legs.

  “Brooke,” Jake said gently.

  I thought of him, Jake, his skillful slow fucking of me, our sweet kiss over the lantern-lit dinner. My heartbeat rocketed up.

  “Yes,” I said quietly, my head hung.

  I took a deep breath. It was just how my mom had said. No matter how much I’d fucked things up, that didn’t mean that I couldn’t un-fuck them.

  “Could you two at least agree to try to work things through?” I asked, looking from one frowning face to the other, “I mean, you two have been best friends forever. If not for your friendship, then at least for the business.”

  “We can,” Jake said, with a decided nod.

  “Sure thing,” Mark said, sarcastically.

  Obviously, me wanting to make things better wasn’t going to be enough.

  “I can’t take back what I did,” I said, rising my gaze to look to Mark and then Jake, “But I do want to make things right. What do you guys think we should do?”

  Mark and Jake glanced to each other uncertainly. They nodded, apparently thinking the same thought.

  “Choose,” Jake said, “You’re going to have to choose between us.”

  “Things won’t be resolved until you do,” Mark said, “Not when it’s all up in the air like this.”

  “No,” I said softly, half to myself, “There has to be another way.”

  “There isn’t,” Mark replied, his eyes fiery.

  “I’m afraid not,” Jake agreed.

  I looked from one frowning face to the other. My eyes scanned for a hint of indecision, a wavering of will, but I found nothing—only the same determined conclusion. It had to be this way.

  “Can you at least give me some time to think about it?” I asked.

  Judging by the disappointed expressions on both of their faces, that was not the answer they’d been wanting to hear. Nevertheless, Jake nodded.

  “Of course,” he said.

  Mark said nothing. I couldn’t think of anything more to say, so I rose.

  “Great, well I’m wiped for tonight. That was really yummy ice cream.”

  My voice echoed awkwardly in the half-empty ice cream parlor. Jake and Mark followed me out of there. As I left, I cast one look back at our now-abandoned booth. My heart did a flip-flop. Already I was feeling nostalgic for when we had first arrived here, before I had to make the terrible decision before me.

  Once we were outside, I said goodbye to Mark and Jake with awkward half-hugs. As they left to their own cars, neither acknowledged me again.

  I opened my car door and flopped inside with a heavy heart. Dully, I watched through my windshield as the two men I cared deeply for drove away into the night.

  Slumping deeper into my car seat, I hardly had the strength to take the wheel. Now, there was no escaping the choice that had haunted me since the first minute I’d stepped into the clinic. I had avoided it, evaded it, pretend it didn’t exist. Until now, the question had me pressed up against the wall, an all-or-nothing ultimatum at my throat. Who would I choose?

  Chapter 17

  Jake

  I was halfway home, when I made the decision. Pulling over on the side of the road, I got out of my phone.

  Staring into the dark blank screen didn’t do much. Back there at DQ, I’d promised Brooke that I’d try to make things up with Mark. And when we were leaving, I hadn’t so much as given the guy a friendly nod. And now what was I doing? Racing home while I thought about how much of a dick the guy was. I mean, the guy literally had leagues and leagues of women to choose from—and chosen he had. But out of all these women, over all these years, he has to go for the one I like? He of all people knew how much Alicia’s leaving had gutted me. How could he do this to me?

  I’d been absently drumming my fingers on the steering wheel. Now I stopped, and stretched out my arms.

  What if Mark hadn’t been full-of-shit, though? What if—as inconvenient and shitty as it was—he really did have feelings for Brooke, and not just because I’d slept with her too? I exhaled, starting
to dial Mark’s number. Whatever the truth was, I had to at least try to make things up with him. And not just because Brooke had urged us to make up. At the end of the day, business partner or not, Mark was my best friend. I’d meant every word I’d said to him back in the coffee shop there. He was like a brother to me, and I wasn’t about to let any woman—even one as wonderful as Brooke—come between us.

  He picked up on the first ring.

  “Hey,” Mark said.

  “Want to meet up? I know we just kinda saw each other—but you know what I mean.”

  Mark paused.

  “What—trying to earn brownie points with Brooke?” he finally scoffed.

  “No,” I said. “Trying to earn my best friend back.”

  A sigh.

  “You sentimental bastard. Alright, let’s meet at the Marble Room.”

  “Why do we keep coming here, when half the time we hate it?” Mark asked, as he sat down at the bar beside me.

  “Because we never learn,” I said, raising the pitcher I’d ordered us in salute.

  He grinned.

  “I see you’ve procured the usual supplies.”

  I shrugged.

  “It’s not really a drinking night without drinks—or my drinking buddy.”

  Pouring himself a cup of beer, Mark nodded thoughtfully.

  “Yeah, to be honest, I found that myself. Tried doing the whole drinking thing without you—it didn’t go that well.”

  “I miss you,” I said impulsively.

  Mark smirked.

  “Don’t get all homo on me.”

  “Seriously though, Mark. Come on,” I said. “We used to be so close. What happened?”

  Mark’s face darkened.

  “You know what happened.”

  I nodded somberly. As much as I hated to admit it—he was right. The eternal conflict—a woman—had come between us.

  “But that doesn’t mean that we can’t be friends,” I said.

  “Doesn’t it?” Mark asked, dubiously.

  Seeing my disheartened expression, he put his glass down and waved his hand.

  “Sorry, that was a bit of a dick thing to say. But you know me, I’m a dick.”

  He tried his usual devil-may-care smirk, but it didn’t come off right this time for some reason. He frowned.

  “I’m taking it hard, okay? That’s all. I never expected that when I actually liked a girl, that it would be like this. Hell, I never expected I’d like a girl at all. I thought love was just fairy-tale bullshit they tell kids, like Santa or the Tooth Fairy.”

  “Just because they didn’t come to you, doesn’t mean they weren’t real,” I said softly.

  Now Mark put his glass down on the counter with a loud smack.

  “So, what the fuck are you saying?”

  “What I’m saying is—maybe instead of running away from your past—and your fucked-up parents, maybe you should face it. Maybe if you had, we wouldn’t be in this situation—where you’re actually liking a woman for the first time in what, 34 years.”

  “Fuck you,” Mark snapped, “Don’t tell me how to live my life. You ever consider that maybe this is just because Brooke is an extraordinary woman?”

  “Yeah,” I said softly, “I have.”

  I could almost picture her now, on the stool beside me, her fingers entwining mine, her lips ruby-red, and smiling. But at who? Who was she going to choose?

  “So, what does this mean?” I said finally, “That we can’t be friends until this is figured out? And what about whoever she doesn’t choose, will they be okay with the other two being in a relationship?”

  “Hell, I sure hope so,” Mark said, taking a long swig of his drink.

  “You didn’t answer the question,” I said, quietly.

  Mark ran his fingers through his sandy blond hair.

  “I don’t know what to tell you, okay Jake? I didn’t expect to feel this way about Brooke or about her being with you. All I know is, when I see you touch her, I feel sick.”

  “Seeing you flirt with her isn’t exactly all puppies and rainbows for me either,” I retorted.

  “I’ll drink to that,” Mark said, raising his glass. “To fighting over a girl with my best friend.”

  I eyed him uncertainly.

  “I’m kidding,” he grumbled, “Just fucking clink my glass so that we can pretend it’s just like old times.”

  I obliged and then we drank deeply.

  “In the meantime,” Mark said, nudging me, “That hot blonde at the other end of the bar has been eyeing you since you got here.”

  My gaze went to the end of the black-countered bar. The woman was undeniably stunning, with her close-cropped white-blonde hair and black sheath dress. And yet, looking at her was like looking at a nice painting, I could enjoy its beauty and yet, I felt nothing.

  “Nice try,” I said, nudging Mark back, “She’s clearly got eyes for you.”

  He said the obvious line out loud at the same time I thought of it myself, “Maybe she wants both of us.”

  We sighed.

  “Can I show you something?” I asked him.

  “Why not?” he said.

  So, I took out my phone, pulled up the picture and extended my phone in front of him.

  “I made this a few days ago. Just got home, and I thought of her and then—I don’t know magic happened.”

  Mark scanned it with narrowed eyes, before nodding.

  “It’s good,” he said, gruffly.

  “That’s not why I was showing it to you,” I said, quietly.

  “Okay, Jake, my very best friend,” Mark snapped sardonically, “Why were you showing it to me?”

  The ponytailed bartender passing us by shot us a ‘you good?’ look, but I ignored it.

  “I was showing it to you, to show you just how much I meant what I said. I really like this woman. She’s the first thing I think of when I wake up, and the last thing I think of when I go to sleep. I know it’s cliché, but it’s true. After Alicia, I thought I’d never love again—heaven knows I tried. But Brooke, there’s just—”

  “Something about her,” Mark said, glumly, “Like when she listens, she really hears you. Like when she’s around you, you’re all that’s on her mind.”

  We eyed each other sullenly, then took another drink of our beers.

  “I have something to show you too,” Mark said, getting out his own phone.

  He took a minute to flick to what he was looking for, then passed his phone to me. When I saw the picture, my voice caught in my throat.

  It was a picture of Brooke sleeping. But it wasn’t just her sleeping—it was, undoubtedly, a picture of her sleeping—after that. She had a post-sex glow to her, while her beautifully rosy face looked utterly serene. She looked happy, plain and simple, perfectly happy. Happy in a way I’d kill to make her every day.

  “I took that the morning after,” Mark said, “Right after, I rolled over, fell asleep and forgot about it until a few days ago, when I stumbled on it on my phone. It’s just—that’s how she looks like when she’s with me, and that’s how I feel when I’m with her, man, no joke. Just—I know it sounds stupid, but it’s true—happy.”

  I smiled bitterly at him.

  “I believe you. And I won’t say that seeing that picture doesn’t hurt. But here’s the thing—that’s what it’s like when we’re together too. She cares deeply about me and I care deeply about her, and we make each other happy, too. I’m sorry.”

  Mark shook his head, putting his phone away.

  “Don’t be sorry,” he cracked a broken smile. “Unless she chooses you.”

  “Who do you think she’ll choose?” I asked.

  Mark shrugged.

  “If she’s smart? You. If she’s horny, well—”

  I elbowed him.

  “Don’t talk about her like that.”

  “Why not?” he asked, “She was a freak in bed, was she not? Or was that just for me?”

  “Seriously,” I said angrily, “if you actually care
d about her, you wouldn’t talk about her this way.”

  “Go seriously fuck yourself,” Mark snapped back, “Stop presuming to know what I would or wouldn’t do if I actually cared about a woman, okay? How about that?”

  He took a big swig of his beer, until there was none left in his glass.

  “Sounds like you’re pissed because she was freakier with me anyway.”

  I clenched my glass tightly.

  “I’m warning you, Mark.”

  “Or what?” he challenged me, “You’ll fuck the woman I have a crush on? Oh wait, you already did.”

  “Everything alright here?” the bartender asked, poking his frowning face over the bar.

  “Yeah, yeah,” Mark snapped, “I was just leaving.”

  He walked a few paces, paused, then said “Guess you didn’t get your best friend back after all.”

  And then he was gone, leaving me with the dregs of the beer at the bottom of the pitcher.

  When I looked up, I found that the blonde woman was staring at me. I got up, paid the bill and walked away, out into the night.

  As I walked down the street, I didn’t pay much attention to where I was going. I walked for the act of it itself. To move my legs while I moved my mind. To think.

  She’d looked so sad back there, in the Dairy Queen. She’d eaten her chocolate part of the banana split like she couldn’t even taste it, like everything would be determined by the results of her conversation with us. And after she’d gotten our answers, after the blow had been dealt, she’d looked hollowed-out, like a shadow of her former self. It made me sick to think about. And that was nothing on Mark. The only time I’d seen him like this—this angry and bitter—was when his grandma had died. For a few weeks, every other thing enraged him and sent him storming off cursing. He’d visited her grave every day for those few weeks. I’d tried to be there for him how he’d been there for me. I’d brought him ice cream by the tubs, sent him porn vids by the dozens, I’d even considered hiring a notorious escort. But then, one day, he’d gotten better. Just like that —he’d told me he’d just decided to. But this time was different—this time, if Brooke chose me, she wouldn’t just be poof-disappearing from his life. He’d have to live with her choice, each and every day. It would be in every look she gave me, every smile, in every movement of her body.