Pretend You're Mine

by Crystal Kaswell

  “You couldn’t talk me into a cup of French roast with extra half-and-half.” She sighs in the direction of the Keurig. Waves at the coffee maker like it’s her favorite thing in the entire world.

  I slide my hand into my pocket. Wrap my fingers around my cell. The shit on it is good news. But it still makes my throat tighten.

  I look to my younger brother. Raise a brow you mind?

  He folds his arms. Yeah, I do.

  I ignore him. Take three steps to the counter. Until my thighs are pressed against the black plastic.

  I pull my cell from my pocket. Pull up my texts. “It worked.”

  I show her the display.

  Penny: Why didn’t you tell me you were seeing Leighton?

  Ryan: I didn’t?

  Penny: I always thought you’d be good together. Frank and I are going to a cake tasting Saturday morning. You should join us. Make it a double date.

  Leighton’s eyes stay glued to the screen. “She thought we’d be good together? What the hell is that?”

  Passive aggressive bullshit. “It’s what we’re going for, yeah?”

  Dean clears his throat. He’s still standing behind me.

  “Yeah?” I keep my back to him.

  He moves forward. Until he’s next to me. “Leigh, tell me you’re not.”

  She looks to him. “You already know the answer.”

  “You’re smarter than this,” he says.

  She motions to me. He’s right here.

  “Fuck this. I’m not gonna be the voice of reason. Ruin your lives if you want,” he says.

  Leighton’s eyes turn down. She presses her lips together, fighting a frown.

  I hate the frustration in her brow.

  I want to wipe it away.

  I want to destroy all the pain in her life.

  But that isn’t different. She’s my best friend. I’ve wanted the world for her for a long time.

  This isn’t changing shit.

  It’s just not.

  I turn to my brother. Find the first change of topic I can. “We need to hire help.”

  Dean shakes his head. “What about the dozen artists you rejected?”

  “What about them?” I ask.

  He laughs. “Half of them were better than you.”

  “No.” Some of them were good, but none of them were better than me. No one takes their shit as seriously as I do.

  “All right. But they were plenty good.”

  “And?” I ask.

  “You’re transparent.” He turns to Leighton. “Isn’t he?”

  She shrugs. “All four of you turn down appointments. You need to hire more help.”

  “Set up some appointments,” I say.

  “Sure. But I’m holding you to hiring someone.” Dean turns. Looks to Walker, who’s currently in the middle of a back piece. “You eavesdropping, Williams?”

  The hum of his gun ceases. He whispers something to his client. Then said client pushes himself up with a thank fuck for the break sigh and moves to the bathroom.

  Walker stands. Moves into the lobby. Studies the three of us like he’s an anthropologist encountering an entirely new civilization.

  His dark eyes fix on Dean. “What did you do?”

  “Ryan wants to hire help,” Dean says.

  Walker shakes his head. “Bullshit. Ryan turned down every artist on the Westside.”

  “You for this plan?” Dean asks.

  “Hell yeah.” Walker runs his hand through his dark hair. “I don’t want to keep working while Iris is off.”

  “Don’t you need money?” Dean asks.

  “I’m gonna be a trophy husband once she gets her PhD,” he says.

  “In, what, five more years?” Dean asks.

  “About that,” Walker says.

  Leighton shakes her head. “I’m not letting her date a loser.”

  “It’s gonna be for her.” He leans against the half-wall to his suite. “So I can cook her dinner every night.”

  “And eat her out the second she gets home,” Dean suggests.

  Walker laughs. “Great fucking idea.” He pulls out his cell. Smiles as he taps a text to his girlfriend.

  “You need dirty talking tips from Dean?” Leighton sits on her stool. Crosses her legs. “Sad.”

  Walker raises a brow. “Twenty bucks says I can make you wet in under a minute.”

  “You can’t.” Her pupils dilate as she tugs at her dress.

  “That’s a challenge.” He stares into her eyes. “Now I’m gonna have to fill you in on every dirty detail of what I did to Iris last night.”

  “What did you…” She clears her throat. “Not interested.”

  “Bullshit,” he says.

  Leighton blushes. Stammers her way to a response. “No comment.”

  “Drop it,” I say.

  She pulls her dress down her legs. But that only pulls it down her chest.

  Shows off more of her lacy black bra.

  Walker looks to me. Raises a brow. “What are you all pissed about?”

  “He’s an idiot,” Dean says. “That’s the crux of the issue.”

  “Strong words from Dean.” Walker looks from his best friend, to me, to Leighton, back to me. “You all right, Ryan? By your standards?”

  “Don’t talk to my girl like that.” The words are still easy on my tongue. Even though it’s a million times weirder calling Leighton my girl to Walker.

  “Your girl?” Walker’s gaze goes to Leighton. “You and Ryan…”

  She nods. Presses her lips together.

  I shoot her a look. Play along.

  She nods of course.

  Walker’s expression screws with confusion. “Did I step into a time warp to April Fool’s Day?”

  Dean looks to me. “Really?”

  I nod yeah.

  He turns to Walker. “Penny’s getting married. Ryan told her he has a girlfriend. So Leighton volunteered.”

  “This is the kinda shit you’d crucify me and Dean for,” he says.

  She presses her lips together. “So?”

  “What’s the point of making your ex jealous?” Walker looks to me. “You’re better than that.”

  “Nah. He’s not. But at least he’s gonna do it right.” Dean jumps in. “You’re gonna whip it out on the dance floor, show her what she’s missing.” He motions to his crotch. “Massive cocks run in the family.” He winks.

  She laughs. “Methinks the lady doth protest too much.”

  Dean makes a show of scratching his head. “Not following.”

  “You’re gonna have to break it down for him, word by word,” Walker teases.

  Her tits shake as she laughs. “You’re always going on about how virile—”

  “Virile? Babe, you know I only read at a third-grade level,” Dean teases.

  “You do not.” She slides off the stool. Adjusts the dress. Her eyes catch mine for a second then they’re on Dean. “You’re always talking about your cock. Like you’re compensating for something.”

  “Babe, you bait me so well.” He blows her a kiss. Reaches for his zipper. “Let me prove it.” He unbuttons his jeans. “Take out those tits. I’ll be hard like that—” He snaps his fingers.

  She presses her arm to her stomach, doubling over with laughter.

  I don’t get it.

  She and Dean are always flirting like this. He’s always being disgusting. She’s always pretending to hate it, but smiling anyway.

  She says he’s not Mr. Powers.

  But he must be.

  The way she laughs with him—

  I’ve never been jealous of my brother before. But this—

  My fingers curl into fists. When I close my eyes, I see red. I want to hurt someone. Anyone who’s ever hurt her.

  I’m not this guy.

  I don’t get pissed like this.

  Dean is a fucking slut, yeah. But he’s a good guy, deep down. He’ll treat Leighton well.

  If he is Mr. Powers, I’m gonna have to find a way to
be okay with that.

  “I hate to be the Ryan, but Greg doesn’t want to see your dick.” Walker motions to the bathroom in the back.

  “All right. Let’s go to my suite.” Dean winks at Leigh. “You can give me a little manual help.”

  “You make it sound so enticing,” she teases back.

  “I’ll reciprocate.” He falls to his knees. Presses his hands together. “You know I dream about making you come.”

  “You do not.” She laughs. “You don’t want to fuck me.”

  “Leigh, how could you say that.” He tugs at the waist of his jeans. “Come with me. See how massive my desire for you is—”

  “All right. I’m out. I’m gonna ask Iris to explain it to me.” Walker turns and moves into his suite.

  Leighton’s still shaking her head at Dean.

  Still smiling at his crude advances.

  Not that I can talk.

  I said a lot dirtier shit to Penny.

  But Leighton claims she finds Dean repulsive.

  Is she sparing my feelings?

  Worried I’ll buy into that blood is thicker than water bullshit and rat her out to my brother?

  It has to be him.

  It’s the only thing that makes sense.

  The bell rings as the door swings open. A short woman with long hair steps inside. She looks to Dean, who’s still kneeling on the floor, and laughs. “You’re always in a compromising position.”

  He jumps to his feet. “Sounds like an invitation.”

  She laughs.

  He motions to his suite, then follows her into it.

  Leighton’s eyes find mine. Her cheeks stay pink. Her smile stays wide.

  “Sorry you got cunt-blocked.” I try to unpeel my shoulders from my ears, but it’s a struggle.

  She sticks her tongue out in disgust. “Ew.”

  “You don’t have to bullshit me.”

  “No. It’s…” She presses her fingers to the counter. Stares at her black fingernails. “I’m your girlfriend. There’s not gonna be anyone else.”

  “If you’re into him—”

  “I’m not.”

  “I won’t tell him.”

  “I know. It’s someone else.” There’s something in her eyes. She’s hiding something.

  It must be her lust for Dean.

  What the fuck else could it be?

  She picks up my cell—it’s still sitting on the counter. “You mind?”

  “It’s got a password.”

  “I know it.”

  I arch a brow.

  “Sorry. I spy.” She punches in the code—the date we officially bought the shop—unlocks my phone, and pulls up Penny’s texts.

  She taps a reply.

  Perfect. Tell me where and when.

  She looks to me. “Okay?”

  No. This isn’t even close to okay.

  But it’s necessary.

  I nod.

  She taps send.

  A moment later, my cell buzzes with an address.

  I’m gonna help my ex pick out her wedding cake.

  Fan-fucking-tastic.

  Chapter 10

  Leighton

  I step into my nicest dress. Pull the zipper. Check my reflection for panty lines.

  None. Good.

  This is good. I think.

  What the hell do you wear to taste cakes with your fake boyfriend’s ex?

  This fit and flare dress must be close. It’s a grey and black checkered print. It hugs my chest, but not in a look at my boobs way. In more of a I’ve got a waist and I’m not afraid to flaunt it way.

  I take a seat at my desk. Fall into my makeup routine. Concealer. Foundation. Blush. Brow pencil. Eye shadow. Eyeliner. Mascara. Lipstick.

  It’s not a vanity thing. Yeah, I want to look pretty. But, more than that, I want to cover all the cracks in my armor.

  I learned this back in high school, the first time shit got bad with my mom.

  If you look tired, people worry.

  If you look alert and rested, people believe it when you say I’m fine.

  If you look tough and untouchable, people don’t bother to ask questions.

  There. Perfect. Pretty and don’t fuck with me. Enough to convince Ryan I’m fine with this. To convince his ex I’m… something.

  I barely know Penny. I’m not sure what I want her to believe about me. Only that I want her a million miles away from Ryan.

  The doorbell’s ring interrupts me.

  It’s early. What is Ryan—

  “Open up.” Iris’s voice flows through the door. “Or I’ll knock this door down.”

  “You’re capable?”

  “I’ve been working out.”

  She’s here to talk me out of this.

  It’s not happening.

  I was a little impulsive, offering to play Ryan’s girlfriend without thinking it over. But I have thought it over.

  It’s a good idea.

  I’ll help him get over Penny.

  We’ll spend two glorious months together.

  Then we’ll go back to being friends.

  No hurt. No rejection. No risk of coming in second place.

  Because how can he choose her over me if he doesn’t know I’m an option?

  I move toward the door. “Can it wait?”

  “You know the answer to that.”

  I let her in.

  She smiles as she steps inside. Pulls me into a hug.

  My shoulders relax. My chest gets warm. Even knowing she’s here to lecture me, the embrace feels good.

  Iris and I met a few months ago, when she and Walker started a fuck buddies thing (they swore it was casual, now they’re practically engaged). We became fast friends. She’s funny, sweet, tenacious, up for anything.

  Concerned.

  Which I appreciate.

  Really.

  But this idea isn’t nearly as tragic as everyone’s making it out to be

  “I’ve already made up my mind.” I close and lock the door.

  She smooths her sundress. “No. You’ve lost your mind.”

  “Even so.”

  “Are you really pretending to be Ryan’s girlfriend?”

  “Yes.”

  “And he’s aware you’re in love with him?”

  “I’m not in love with him.”

  “Right.”

  “I have strong feelings. But love?”

  She tilts her head to one side, assessing me. “He’s aware of your feelings?”

  “Well…”

  “This plan gets stupider?”

  “He knows I’m into someone.”

  “Someone?”

  “Mr. Powers.”

  “Austin Powers, International Man of Mystery?”

  “You know it?”

  “Everyone knows it.” She stares into my eyes. “And he thinks this guy is…”

  “All he knows is that Mr. Powers isn’t interested in me.”

  “Wow. That’s…” She taps her toe against the hardwood floor. “You’re technically not lying to him.”

  “Thanks.”

  “You know how that worked out for me?”

  “You’re now happy with Walker.”

  “Uh-huh.” She rolls her eyes. “You’re skipping over something important.”

  “You ended up with him. Who cares about a few bumps in the road?”

  She shoots me some serious side-eye. “Remember that night you took me out because I was miserable?”

  “Sounds vaguely familiar.”

  She tilts her head to one side, assessing my bullshit level. “How many eighties nights have we gone to?”

  “We go every month.”

  “We’ve gone to two.”

  “Is it only two?”

  “You’re full of it.” She laughs. “You said the only thing worse than being his best friend and not his everything is being his nothing.”

  “It was profoundly less poetic, but, yes. That was the general sentiment.”

  “Has that changed?”<
br />
  “No.”

  She takes another step toward me. “So what happens if this ends your friendship?”

  “I won’t let it.”

  She folds her arms. Stares at me, daring me to justify my claim.

  My eyes go to my shiny patent heels. They’re three inches. So I’m eye to eye with Ryan.

  “I have all day,” she says.

  “Don’t you want to hang with Walker?”

  “He’s working until four.”

  “Oh.” I move past her. Sit at my desk. Pretend as if I’m fascinated by re-applying my lipstick.

  She stays behind me.

  Continues staring.

  Finally, I break. “You’re right. This might ruin everything. But it might cure him of his tunnel vision too. And I have to try.”

  “What if he falls for someone else?”

  “I can live with that.”

  “Really?”

  No. But he won’t.

  The doorbell’s ring cuts through my thoughts.

  “That’s him.” I push myself to my feet. “I already promised. And I want to do this. Even with all I’m risking.”

  Her sigh is soft. “Call me if… if you need to talk. No matter what time it is. Promise?”

  “I promise.” I move to the door. Pull it open for Ryan.

  He’s standing there in his usual outfit. Snug black t-shirt. Snug black jeans. Black on black converse. Black Wayfarers.

  His fingers brush mine as he hands me a takeout cup. “French roast.”

  “Thank you.” Warmth spreads through me as I take a sip.

  It’s perfect. Just enough half-and-half, just enough sugar.

  I take another sip. Let it warm my throat. Jump start my thoughts. “Come in. Iris stopped by to…” Talk me out of this. “To say hi.”

  “No,” he says.

  “No?” What the hell?

  The apartment dims as he pushes the door closed.

  It brightens as he slides off his sunglasses.

  God, those blue eyes…

  “I asked her to come.” Ryan nods hello to Iris. “To help us practice.”

  “Oh.” I shoot my friend a how could you glare. “She didn’t mention that.”

  “You know how it is? Sometimes, important details slip your mind.” She shrugs and shoots back the same glare.

  “Yeah.” Ryan runs his hand through his wavy hair. He looks to me. “I guess we should try this out.”

  “We have time to chat.” She looks to me and raises a brow then turns to Ryan. “You brought Leighton coffee. That’s sweet.”