Faking It For Mr. Right

by Penny Wylder

  All I can do is keep thinking about the wild day I’ve had. Or feeling the way Xander’s hands felt all over my body, how his tongue felt between my thighs. I clench my legs and savor the warm, hot burn between them. I’m going to be sore in the morning, but oh god is it worth it.

  But the name lighting up the screen of my phone isn’t Xander’s. It’s Devan.

  Oh, shit. My stomach plummets as I recall what I promised: to call her the second I got in safe. I pick up and press the phone to my ear at once. “Devan, hi.”

  “Hi? That’s it? No explanation for where the hell you’ve been? I thought you got lost or kidnapped or your plane maybe exploded—”

  “I’m fine,” I interject. “I’m sorry, I didn’t see your messages. It’s been a hectic day.”

  “You promised to call and let me know you were doing okay.”

  “I know, and I’m sorry. I just, first Xander brought me to his penthouse, and then we had to run out to shop for a change of clothes for me before we met his brother and sister—”

  “Hang on, you’re doing meet the family stuff already?” she interrupts.

  I swallow hard. Dammit. I probably shouldn’t have said that. I let out a huffing sigh. “It’s kind of fast, yes…”

  “Kind of?” my best friend barks.

  “Okay, very fast. But it’s been amazing, Devan. And oh my god, New York City… you would love it here. It’s everything we ever thought it would be and more. I feel like I’m living in a movie or something. I keep pinching myself, but I don’t wake up…”

  “Did you say penthouse?” she finally asks, her grudgingly interested tone belying what she’s unwilling to admit. But I know Devan has dreamt about the big city for almost as long as I have.

  “It’s wild. It’s bigger than our whole damn house like, twice over. And it’s right on the edge of Central Park, with the most killer view…”

  “Ugh, stop. You’re killing me,” Devan groans. “I’m dying of jealousy here. Although, I’m mostly just glad that you aren’t murdered. And happy you’re enjoying yourself. Like 90% that. But 10% flaming jealousy.”

  I laugh. She does too. Then I let out a sigh and sink back into the pillows, where my gaze lands on the other object propped next to my bed. One that I’d forgotten about.

  Use it, Xander’s voice whispers in my memories. However you want, enjoy anything you desire. What I really desire, way more than any fancy presents I could buy myself right now, is for my best friend to be here with me. To share this experience of a lifetime with the girl who’s been by my side for my whole lifetime.

  I roll over in bed and sit upright, an idea sparking in my mind. “So come visit,” I say.

  On the other end of the phone, Devan groans again. “Okay, now you’re just rubbing in it.”

  “No, I’m serious. Xander gave me his credit card, he said I could spend it on anything I want. Anything that would make me happy. Well, flying you out here for the weekend would make me happy.”

  There’s a long pause on the other end of the line. Then Devan clears her throat. “Okay, skipping right past the part where your new boyfriend is fine with giving you his credit card, apparently—”

  “Hey, I tried to refuse it,” I protest.

  “Girl, why would you do that?” Devan snorts. “Just saying, the whole situation is kind of… well, strange.”

  “Believe me, I know. But…” I lick my lips. Swallow hard. Lying to Xander’s family, who are pretty much strangers, is one thing. Lying to my best friend is quite another. Yet the words that rise to my lips then aren’t a lie, I realize. And that makes them scarier than ever. “I’m really enjoying this. I like being with him. I like him, Devan. So, as weird as the whole situation is…” And oh, it is so much weirder than she even knows. “I’m happy. Right now.”

  “Good.” I can almost feel her smile, even through the phone. She lets out a soft sigh. “That’s all I want for you, Mel, you know that. I just also don’t want to see you get hurt.” There’s a long pause. “You really don’t think your rich beau would mind flying me out there for a weekend?”

  “Who says beau anymore, Dev?” I snort.

  “But I mean, I wouldn’t be cramping your style? Interrupting all the hot sexy-times I’m sure you two are enjoying…”

  My laughter grows louder. “Trust me, the penthouse is big enough that you wouldn’t hear us from the guest bedroom on the far end. No worries there.”

  “Guest bedroom. Jesus Christ. Now I know you’re trying to kill me,” she mutters. But it’s a happy mutter. I know her well enough to parse that tone. “Okay, fine, you’ve convinced me. I’ll deign to visit you in your new fancy as hell digs.”

  I let out a whoop of triumph, and she cuts me off again, laughing.

  “But on one condition, Mel. You’re the one who’s going to help me talk Arletta into covering. Because with both of us gone, you know the restaurant is going to be a shitshow.”

  “I can convince her,” I promise, picking up Xander’s credit card and spinning it between my fingers. “Don’t worry about that. Just go find your computer.” My smile grows wider. “We’ve got a flight to book you.”

  10

  Melanie

  The next few days pass in a blur of bliss. Xander has to spend at least several hours a day at the office, but in the meantime, I get in a fair amount of exploring. I make friends with Andrew, who lets me sit in the front of the chauffeured car since I feel weird riding in the back when it’s just the two of us, in exchange for me promising not to let Xander know I broke this little rule of servant life, or whatever it is.

  He drops me off at all the stores I’m dying to visit, and the sights I’m eager to see. Then Xander meets me after work for less touristy activities—sailing on his friend’s yacht or going to an art gallery opening for a famous artist who Xander’s father is friends with.

  And most nights in between, not to mention most of the days we spend together at his penthouse too, we explore one another. The first time I go down on Xander, in the enormous walk-in shower he has attached to his bedroom, will stick in my mind forever. The taste of his skin, wet from the shower water cascading over both of us. The way that gorgeous, sexy, thick cock of his felt when I traced my tongue along the shaft, then swirled it along the spongy tip before I let him part my lips and slowly ease into my mouth.

  I never realized cock could taste so fucking good. Not until Xander. And the sensation it gave me when he came in my mouth, when he lost control and cried out my name… I never realized what a fucking turn on it could be to go down on a guy either. Not until I met the one man I long to make lose control, as often as I can.

  Before I know it, though, the weekend is approaching, and with it, my best friend on the flight Xander was happy to buy for her.

  “You’re sure you don’t mind that I spent your money on this?” I asked for the dozenth time that morning in bed, as Xander’s arm snaked around my waist.

  He leaned in to nuzzle his nose into the crook of my neck, before kissing me softly. “I told you, Melanie. Anything that makes you happy. Of course I don’t mind.” He smiled, then, and it was impossible not to fall into those gorgeous eyes of his. “Besides, I’m looking forward to getting to know your best friend better,” he murmured. “If I’m forcing you into meeting all of my family, then I’d like to get to know yours as well.”

  I grinned at him then, and leaned in to kiss him once more. “Fair enough, I suppose,” I whispered against his lips.

  “I try to be,” he responded softly. And then neither of us were able to concentrate on much else for longer, because he was too busy showing me just how fair he could be. His lips worked their way down the edge of my throat, along my bare collarbone, and with every shiver, I felt my toes curl beneath the heavy cushion of his comforter.

  I didn’t think I’d ever felt this way about a guy before. Certainly not as easily or as quickly. And the thought terrifies me, because a little part of my mind can’t stop reminding me that sooner or l
ater, this is all going to have to come to an end.

  But for now, at least, I can enjoy the ride.

  When the buzzer sounds, I practically leap out of the armchair where I’ve been curled up reading a new book I picked up at the Strand, ever since Xander headed into the office earlier in the afternoon. Andrew had been sent to retrieve Devan from the airport, which left me home alone trying and failing to focus on my reading. I should have just gone with him for the drive, even though the route to JFK isn’t the most scenic one in town.

  Wow. Listen to me. One week here and I already sound like a jaded New Yorker.

  I grab the intercom and let the front desk know to send Devan up. Then I stick a bookmark in my book and replace it on the shelf beside the big, comfy leather armchair in the living room that I’ve sort of claimed as my own in the past week, and beeline toward the main entryway.

  It’s worth it to get a clear look at the expression on Devan’s face when she first walks inside. “Holy shit, girl,” she blurts, before she even raises her arms and extends them toward me for a hug.

  I laugh as I step into her embrace, squeezing her tightly around the waist. “I know, right?”

  “You told me you were living in a crazy penthouse, but I had no idea you actually meant a like… mansion on top of a building.” She stares with her mouth hanging open at the high ceilings, the hardwood floors. The floor to ceiling windows that line the living room—well, actually, the whole side of the apartment that face Central Park in fact—and she drifts toward them until her nose is pressed right up against the glass. “This is gorgeous,” she breathes, her breath fogging up the glass.

  “Come on, I’ll give you the full tour.” I grab her hand and tug her behind me, grinning all the while as I point out the living room features, the dining room, the kitchen. When we reach the bedroom, she bursts out laughing.

  “God. Here I was worrying about you, fearing you’d been kidnapped or something that first day, and you were just too busy living up the life of luxury.” But her eyes sparkle as she says it, and I can tell that despite the teasing, my friend is genuinely happy for me. “You like it here, though?” She waves a hand at the building. “I mean, besides all the stuff and the amenities and the location, which are obviously fantastic. You like Xander?”

  I can’t stop the smile that spreads across my cheeks, ear to ear. “I do. I really do.” And unfortunately, despite this whole faux engagement scenario we’ve gotten ourselves embroiled in… it’s true.

  Which scares me. More than anything.

  Devan’s eyes shoot wide again, and I blink, casting a glance around, trying to figure out what apartment feature has caught her eye this time. The claw-footed tub we can see through the far door of the bedroom’s en suite bathroom? Or maybe the shower that could easily hold four people?

  But no. She’s looking down. At my left hand, I realize.

  “Is that…?” She grabs my wrist without waiting for an answer and turns my hand back and forth so the rock catches the overhead light. It’s so large that it throws honest to god rainbows against the walls.

  I tug my hand free and quickly twist the ring around, so the diamond faces toward my palm. It makes it a little bit less obvious, anyway. “It’s just… something Xander bought me.”

  “Are you two engaged?” Devan’s eyebrows could practically kiss her hairline, they’re so high right now.

  “It’s a… bit of a confusing story.” I bite the inside of my cheek. “But… kind of?”

  Devan crosses her arms and gives me that adopted big sister look that only she can pull off. “Melanie, if you were planning on eloping without even so much as telling me—”

  “It’s not like that!” I protest. My restraint withers under my best friend’s glare. There’s only so much I can hide from this girl, and a secret this big isn’t it. With a sigh, I tiptoe back into the living room and collapse on the couch, patting the seat beside me. Devan hesitates, but only for a moment, before she perches on the cushion next to me.

  “So, spill,” she says.

  “It’s just for a little while.” I toy with the ring on my finger, spinning it around and around. A new nervous tic I’ve picked up. Normally I don’t wear jewelry, and never anything this large or noticeable. So it’s easy to distract me, to toy with when I’m feeling anxious. “Basically, Xander’s Dad is holding something over his head. He’s really, uh… controlling, I guess. He wants Xander to get married and settle down before his dad will let him have whatever it is. Hence.” I wave my left hand. “Pretending, for his sake, anyway.”

  Devan’s frown deepens. “Okay, this whole thing is getting weirder and weirder. What does his dad have over him? Do you know?”

  I shake my head and spread my hands wide in a shrug. “Money, I’d guess? Some kind of inheritance?”

  “How much more money could Xander possibly need?” Devan glances around at the apartment in which we’re sitting. I hate to admit it, but she’s voicing the one question that’s been eating away at me, too.

  I want to know what exactly Xander values so much that he’s willing to go through with this whole messy, wild plan. What could be worth it to him? And is it worth it to me? adds a voice deeper in the recesses of my mind. Because we’re gambling with more than just his family’s opinions or respect at the moment. At least, I am. I’m gambling with my heart.

  And that feels like a very risky bet to place, especially if this whole thing is just about money.

  “Look, Mel, you know you don’t have to stay here, right?” Devan’s eyes search mine, worried. “You can come home with me if you want. There’s no shame in that.”

  “No,” I blurt, louder than I mean to. I tense and force my shoulders to relax before I reveal too much. “I mean, I agreed to stay for a while, to help Xander out with this thing. And anyway… I am enjoying it here. Being with him is…” I shake my head, stealing a shy glance around the apartment. “It feels like a dream that I don’t want to wake up from.”

  Devan’s eyes narrow. “But is it a dream because of all the stuff he comes with, or—”

  I shake my head even harder. “Dev, I really like him. More than any other guy I’ve met.” I chew on my lower lip, embarrassed by a sudden sting of tears at the back of my eyes. “I just… I know it’s weird and unusual and that I should probably be more careful with my heart, but when I’m with him, I can’t seem to make myself remember any of that. Because when we’re together it just feels so… natural.”

  Devan’s expression relaxes. After a moment, she smiles. Then, to my surprise, she shoves to her feet and offers me a hand. “Come on, then.”

  “Where are we going?” I ask as I let her tug me back to my feet.

  “I flew all the way to New York City to visit my best friend and her new semi-fake fiancé.” She winks at me. “We’re going to have some fun. Take your mind off things for a bit, if nothing else. You need to maintain a social life of your own, lady.”

  I let Devan draw me toward the bedroom, unable to help the grin that slowly spreads across my cheeks. “Well… I haven’t been out dancing in the city yet.”

  “Perfect.” Devan reaches the walk-in closet and flings the door open. The moment she does, she gasps aloud, her eyes going wide as she drinks in the collection. “Are all of these yours?”

  I laugh. “Xander really likes taking me shopping?” I respond. After a pointed look from her, I snort. “And, okay, I might enjoy letting him spoil me. Just a little.”

  “Girl, there are more shoes here than I’ve ever owned in my life.” Devan dives into the closet. “I’m so glad we wear the same size. Okay, what type of dancing are we doing? Know any good Latin nights?”

  My earlier worries fade as Devan and I get ready for a night out. I text Xander to let him know where we’re going. He replies that he’s working late, but he promises to come and meet us. He also reminds me yet again to be sure Andrew drives us.

  In the meantime, I must try on at least half the closet for Devan before she fi
nally pronounces one of my outfits perfect for the night she has in mind. It’s a little black dress, long but tighter than I’d normally wear, with a scooped back that reveals several more vertebrae of my spine than I’m used to letting show.

  But when I spin in front of the full-length mirror, in a pair of low, sensible heels with a hint of glitter along the toes, I know it’s perfect.

  Beside me, Devan poses in a looser dress she borrowed, and a pair of boots she found. She winks at me in the mirror and links our arms. “We look good enough to eat, you know that, right?”

  I wink right back. “Let’s go find you a New Yorker beau of your own,” I reply, and she snorts and swats my arm when I use the word beau, teasing her about our earlier conversation. Then we catch the elevator down to the waiting car, where Andrew holds the door open for us with a little bow.

  Devan’s eyes flash over him, in his formal black driving suit, and her expression lights up a little. “Hey, is he single?” she whispers as we slide into the backseat of the car. “That suit sure fits him nicely…”

  I snort and roll my eyes, but follow her into the car. “Please don’t scare poor Andrew away, or I’ll be trapped in the penthouse without transportation.”

  “Too good to take the subway already?” Devan’s eyes spark with amusement. “And here I took you for a practical, competent country gal.”

  I elbow her, before we both dissolve into more laughter. My heart feels lighter with Devan here. Even the whole pretend fiancé situation feels easier to handle—for one night, at least, I can distract myself. I don’t have to think about Xander, wonder about where we stand. Worry that I might feel more for him than he does for me.