I shrug. “That’s probably because it’s not real.”
I’m going to keep saying this to myself, and out loud, every chance I get. This will be one of my survival techniques. If I believe this whole relationship is just for show, the more likely I am to come out the other side in one piece.
“I’m sorry,” he says, “I’m confused. You need to start talking and I’ll raise my hand if I have any questions.”
I lean back in my seat, then go on to explain Adrian’s bizarre proposal.
Robert raises his hand, looking skeptical. “He wants you to be with him all the time, act like his girlfriend, and make everyone believe you are his girlfriend?”
I shift my weight, hoping if I move around I’ll get rid of the uncomfortable feeling in my stomach. “It’s ridiculous, but I get my rent paid, which means I don’t have to tutor anymore, and I get to make out with him.”
Robert holds his hands out in front of him, palms facing me, fingers spread. “Stop right there. That’s where you should have started with this lame ass story. Now, tell me about the making out.”
Because I’m totally the kind of girl to kiss and tell, I do. I tell him about the kiss after the proposal, and the make-out session last night.
"I told him no sex, and he agreed,” … too quickly in my opinion.
Robert looks skeptical. “You're really going to just make out like a couple of teenagers, and not get to the good part?"
I sigh. "Not gonna lie, I've been pretty horny lately, and he had me thoroughly worked up last night. If he would've asked, I don't think I could've said no. He’s got my head screwed up. I mean, he’s not my—”
“Not your type,” Robert says, interrupting me. “Yeah, you’ve mentioned that, but I’ve also seen you two kiss, and I’ve seen the way your vagina gravitates toward him when he’s in the same room.”
I close my eyes and drop my head back. “My vagina is a problem. Good thing my head knows better. I just have to keep reminding myself how much I don’t like him.”
“You totally love him,” Robert mutters under his breath.
“What did you say?” I ask, leaning closer.
I warned him to not talk of me that way again, and I have to stick to my threat. Otherwise, what will he have learned?
He throws his hands up, trying to defend himself. “I forgot, I’m sorry,” he begs, but it’s too late.
I grab his hand and lay it on my boob.
Robert screams as he jerks his hand away from me. He’s waving it furiously while blowing on it as if putting out a fire.
“I touched your boob!” he yells. “You know I’m allergic.” He begins frantically searching his pockets with his other hand. “Where’s my Epi-pen? Oh, God, it’s going to swell up then my whole arm will fall off.”
I watch in amusement as he begins flailing around on the couch like he’s having a seizure. Other students are peeking around bookshelves, and I think one kid is videoing this comedy on his phone.
“How can you stand there and watch me suffer?” he cries.
I hold up my hands, palms out. “Serves you right. Death by boob seems like an appropriate punishment for your slander.” I walk over and pat his cheek. “I’ll send Adrian over to give you mouth-to-mouth."
Robert is now gasping for breath. As his body stops seizing, he peeks open one eye. “Promise?” he asks, hopefully.
I shake my head. “No, but I’ll help end your misery faster,” I say as I grab his other hand and shove it between my legs.
“Ahhh, coochie cuties,” he screams and pulls his hand from between my legs. He begins the whole allergic reaction episode all over again as I turn to leave, laughing like an evil villain.
Chapter 26
Meet My Fiancé
I wander into the cafeteria, about an hour later, after getting a text from Gemma that she and Shy are waiting for me. The smell of french fries and the sound of hundreds of students is oddly comforting. I know this environment. It’s predictable.
I get to the table to find all three of the guys are there, as is Robert, although he refuses to look at me. It’s possible he’s using the girl club card he revoked from me.
I do my duty and sit next to Adrian, thinking that our first day at this should not be over-the-top. We don’t need to hold hands or any of that nauseating stuff. I’ll sit here, trying not to hit him, and try to smile when he looks at me. This should be easy enough.
Only A few short minutes in to the meal, and Adrian proves me wrong—this is not going to be easy. He abruptly stands and steps on a chair then up to the table. He waves to get people’s attention.
“Hey, shut the hell up,” he says in a booming voice.
Are you shitting me? My first day on babysitting duty and he's pulling a stunt in the lunchroom. I reach over and backhand him across the shin.
"Ow." He scowls down at me.
I point my finger at him then point to the floor, indicating he needs to get his ass down.
"Oh, right princess," he says, making me want to hit him again. Did he really just call me princess?
He steps from the table onto a chair, standing on it instead. I close my eyes and turn back to my friends deciding I don't want to witness whatever it is he's about to do. I also decide I'm going to turn in my resignation letter, as his babysitter, as soon as I get home today.
Adrian yells one more time, somehow effectively quieting the entire cafeteria.
"Hello, fellow schoolmates. It's great to see all of you again," he begins, sounding like a politician. "Most of you know me as Adrian Christian Elliot The First, but others of you may know me as the guy who is always getting scolded by the professors, and the dean… and the president on a couple of occasions."
Adrian Christian Elliot, the first? What is happening right now? I can't believe I agreed to be a part of this guy’s daily life. Oh yeah, it was his stupid mouth, on my stupid mouth, that sealed the deal.
"As your class president, I would like to—” He's cut off by several people laughing and shaking their heads. He looks around at each of them with curiosity and then his eyes go wide in realization.
"Oh right, I'm not your class president." He taps his head scanning the room again. "And why exactly is that? I mean, I think I'm great presidential material. I have an outstanding reputation, and I have a great working relationship with our professors and deans, as I recently described."
More laughter.
I glance up to see Adrian grinning from ear to ear. He freaking loves this. I don't know why that surprises me, I guess because I hate being the center of attention. Not Adrian, nope, he’s an attention whore.
"Anyway," Adrian goes on. "I want to introduce to you the woman who would’ve been your first lady if you’d elected me as your president."
Oh holy mother of Batman. If he’s about to do what I think… before I can finish my thought, he's grabbing my hand and pulling me to my feet.
"I'd like for you to meet Miss Keegan Marie Hughes, my fiancé."
The room erupts in applause as I spin to face him. Taking aim at the first target I find, I reach up and squeeze a small section of his triceps between my thumb and forefinger and twist. He yelps in pain, but no one can hear him over the applause. A few seconds later I hear silverware banging off the tables and trays.
Adrian pulls me against him and cups my face. When his lips are a breath away from mine, he whispers, "I think they want us to kiss, princess."
And then he kisses me, and I don't try to stop him. It's as if his lips have some sort of connection to my brain that causes it to flat line instantly. Because honestly, when would I ever stand in the middle of a college cafeteria kissing a guy, let alone someone who is not my boyfriend.
When he pulls away from the kiss, it takes me a few seconds to jumpstart my brain again. I hear him talking to someone about a song then I hear Robert sounding as excited as a schoolgirl. What a traitor he’s become. Adrian slides one arm around my back and he lifts my hand to hold it in his, posing us
in a dance position. As my brain begins to function again, I attempt to push away but he pulls me closer and whispers in my ear.
"Our people want to see our first dance.” He begins moving us in a circle, as Aerosmith sings, from Robert’s phone, about being crazy. He nailed our first song. I’ll give him that.
I clench my teeth and whisper back in his ear. "I don't care what your people want. If you don't let me go, I'm going to castrate you with my knee right now."
"Keegan, baby," he whispers seductively, causing my brain to begin another flat line. "If we're going to get married, you have to stop being so violent. I won't be domestically violated, regardless of how much I love you.”
“You don’t love me,” I hiss, wondering if I would be charged with murder when the jury hears my side of the story.
He squeezes his arm tighter around my waist and begins to lean me back, trying to dip me. I see the second he realizes we’re going fall because his eyes go wide and he looks over my head to see what I’m going hit. Somehow, he manages to twist us so that we both fall on our sides, instead of him falling on top of me.
As the room erupts in laughter, Adrian laughs too. “That was fun, wasn’t baby?”
“Yep,” I say, pushing up until I’m leaning over him. “As much fun as it’s gonna be watching your ass get kicked outta here.”
Still smiling, he reaches up, grasping the back of my neck. He pulls me down so that my mouth is hovering over his.
“Nah, no way they’ll expel the class president, especially since he just found his first lady.” Then he lifts his head until his mouth meets mine.
Once again, his tornado comes crashing through my life. This time it left me lying on the cafeteria floor, with hundreds of people staring. At least this time, Adrian is still here, in the middle of the wreckage with me.
Chapter 27
Not The Girl For The Job
Turns out, Adrian was right. Not one staff member in the cafeteria that day chastised his behavior. No, instead several lunch ladies and professors came to congratulate us. That’s right, professors hugged me, telling me congratulations on my completely fake engagement, and I accepted, smiling like I was thrilled to be with him. In my head, I kept reminding myself none of it was real. The way he looks at me, the things he says, and the way he kisses is all part of his show. It’s all just a show.
That night, I lock myself in my bedroom before Adrian has a chance to invade my world again. As much as I enjoy making out with him, I’m not sure all the mental trauma is worth it. After today, I’m going to always be on edge, waiting for his next stunt. I can’t imagine what he could think up next, and I’m terrified to try and imagine.
As I lay, peacefully pondering my dilemma, my door opens and Adrian enters.
I sit up. “How the hell? I locked that door.”
He turns to look at the useless barrier, then waves it off. “That’s nothing compared to the door of the admissions office.”
I drop back onto my bed, throwing my arm over my face. I’m not safe anywhere.
Adrian slides onto the bed next to me, apparently not needing an invitation.
“I’m not making out with you,” I inform him. “You stole all the kisses you’re getting today.”
He chuckles as he rolls to his back, turns me on my side, and pulls me against him, then hitches up one of my knees with his. I don’t resist. Instead, I practically melt into him. It scares me how bad I do want him to kiss me, and hold me, and do other things to me.
None of this is real.
Sighing, in frustration, I tell him, “I don’t think I’m the girl for this job.”
“What’re you talking about, of course you are,” he says, placing a finger under my chin, lifting it so my eyes meet his.
“I wasn’t able to put you in your place today.” I’m not going to mention it’s because my brain flatlines as soon as his mouth hits mine. Regardless of the reason, if he needs someone to keep him in line, I don’t think I can do it.
He looks at me like I’m crazy. “Sure you did. You told me to get off the table, and I did.”
I sit up, slapping both my palms onto my forehead, pressing hard. I don’t have the energy to argue with him.
Dropping my hands, I look at him. ”Can I ask you a question?"
“Nine inches,” he answers, without hesitation.
I snorted out a laugh and he pinches my leg. “Ow, I’m the only one who’s allowed to be abusive,” I tell him.
He’s smiling, and I can’t help but smile too.
“Hey, I coulda poked you… with my nine inches.” He hesitates, waiting for my retort, but I’ve got nothing.
“Anyway, back to my question,” I say, “you said something that first night when we all went down but I've thought a lot about."
He smiles huge and his eyes go wide. “You do like it rough.”
Oh my gosh, how is that someone with such a short attention span can remember everything I’ve said to him? I close my eyes, trying not to laugh, which would only encourage him. “I wish you’d start taking your meds. It’s exhausting trying to have a conversation with someone who gets distracted every five seconds.”
He tugs on my arm, encouraging me to lie back down with him. I sigh, acting like it’s a chore to be wrapped in his arms, then curl back against his warm, hard body.
“You promised you’d tell me about your family,” I say, trying this conversation again.
His look becomes serious as he considers his next words. He closes his eyes and looks resigned when he opens them.
"My mom died when I was twelve,” he begins. “Complications from diabetes. My dad was an asshole before she died, but once she was gone, he became an alcoholic asshole. He refused to take on any extra responsibility once mom was gone, and being the oldest child, it became my job to raise my brothers."
Something inside me does some little squishy thing. It was a total girly feeling and I don't like it, I mean I did like it, but I don't like it now.
"Holy shit Adrian, that's horrible," I say as I try to turn and face him, but he squeezes his arm holding me in place.
“If you were raising your brothers, what was your dad doing?” I ask, moving along the conversation.
His muscles tighten, and I feel his mood shift. “Let's just say, that when he was drunk he enjoyed beating up on small children."
I gasp in horror, but then cover my mouth with both hands knowing that shock and pity are not what he needs right now. "I'm sorry," is all I know to say.
He shakes his head. "The beatings weren't as bad as the way he treated us, not only drunk but sober too. None of us were ever good enough. Actually he looked at us and talked to us like we were repulsive kids who had to belong to someone else. The hardest part was having no parent. My mom had died and my dad was completely useless. He didn't care about our schoolwork he didn't even care what we ate for dinner, so all of those things became my responsibility."
Wow…
“Tell me about your brothers,” I say, hoping to make him smile again.
His eyes light up as he begins to tell me about the twins, Dakota and Dylan, who are thirteen, and sixteen-year-old Kylar. But when he gets to Brandon, who’s nineteen, his look becomes haunted.
Chapter 28
Your Dad Was What?
“Brandon started dating a girl my dad didn't approve of, and things got ugly,” Adrian explains.
I can tell this is going to be a hard story for him to tell, so I wait and listen.
“He did everything he could to keep them apart. Brandon’s junior year, dad paid off her parents to basically move her out of town and keep her away from him. Brandon was never right after that. As soon as he graduated high school he went looking for her. My aunt helped, thinking he would see her, get his closure and he could move on. After all, it was only teenage love, but having her ripped away, seemed to make him love her more.”
I know all too well what that’s like. I remember the day that Jack, my high school sweetheart left
. We had talked about our future together, then one day he was gone, with one text to say goodbye.
“Did he find her,” I ask, trying to push away my own memories.
Adrian shakes his head. “No, a few months after he started looking, he joined the marines.”
I’m horrible at being supportive and saying the right things when people need it, but I am good at using sarcasm.
”All of that and they’re still not together. That doesn't sound like a book I’d want to read."
Adrian shakes his head. "No, but you may get to hear it in person soon. He’s got leave coming up, so he’ll be visiting.”
I give him a genuine smile. I like the idea of seeing Adrian with his brother.
Trying to lighten the mood again, I tease. "Oooh is he hot? Maybe I can help get him on the path to trying out new women."
I fully expected Adrian to tell me to stay away, but I didn't expect to see the anger that flashes across his face.
“Don't even think about it. I love my brother but if I see his hands or his mouth anywhere near you, I will kick his big bad marine ass all the way back to Texas."
Well, okay then. Moving on. “Tell me how you got back here, to Ohio?”
He tucks my hair behind my ear, then stares at my lips for a few beats before looking away, and going on with his story.
“My mom’s sister, Diane, lived back here in Ohio, and we were in Texas. Diane would call and come see us a couple times a year, but she had no idea how bad things were. It wasn't until my junior year in high school that I finally reached out to her. I was getting close to turning eighteen and was terrified of what would happen to my brothers. Typically, when my dad and I got into a fight, he’d threaten to throw me out of the house, and that was before I was eighteen. I had no doubt that once I was eighteen, he wouldn't hesitate to throw me out, leaving Brandon to raise the boys.”
I can’t picture Adrian, this guy who goofs off, and acts like a kid at the age of twenty-one, raising four boys. When he was twelve, he would have been changing diapers on the twins, worrying about what to feed them, and what else? Was he in charge of where they went for daycare and did he pack lunches for everyone?
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