Counterfeit Boyfriend

by Cindi Madsen

  How could I already care so much about how she felt?

  And how could I already be experiencing such strong emotions for her?

  Just do it. The Band-Aid method would’ve been easier if I’d done it the second I’d shown up, the way I should’ve. I cleared my throat, gearing up to let her down as easy as I could.

  But then she put her hand on my biceps and pursed her lips together, looking at me like a problem she didn’t know how to solve. I had a feeling she solved most everything she put her mind to. “Can you hold still for a second?”

  A strange request, but with her peering up at me with those big hazel eyes, she could ask me just about anything and I’d agree.

  Her fingers wrapped tighter on my arm as she tipped onto her toes. Is she…? Oh, God, she’s moving in for a kiss.

  Apparently I, like my brother, could also be a tool when it came to women, because instead of stopping her, I let her press her soft lips to mine. The reaction was instantaneous—heat flooding my veins, burning off the last of the hangover haze as every cell in my body went on high alert.

  I wrapped my arm around her waist, fitting her tighter to me, and parted her lips with my tongue. Then I swept it inside, indulging in my first taste. I told myself it was also my last taste, which heightened the urgency to claim every inch of her mouth while I could.

  She gasped, her chest rising against mine, and I drove my hand into her hair and angled her head so I could deepen the kiss and hold on to the amazing sensations rushing through me for a few seconds longer.

  Minutes. Let’s make it minutes…

  She wound her arms around my neck, closing the last inch of space between our bodies. If I didn’t need to breathe, I’d never let go, then it could still count as one kiss.

  On second thought, who needed to breathe?

  Not me, not with our mouths and tongues perfecting the way they moved against each other.

  Her moan vibrated against my lips and I was about to lose the last remaining thread on my control. I reluctantly released her, and our ragged breaths filled the air between us.

  She brought her fingertips up to that delicious bottom lip. “Wow. That was…” She blinked up at me. “What got into you this morning?”

  You. And I want to get into you next. Whoa. That thought was way too far, and more proof that I’d taken this entire situation too far.

  But what was I supposed to do now? Be like P.S., you and I are over?

  I couldn’t do that. Not when I was thinking that this was far from over.

  This was just the beginning.

  4 Gwen

  I was trying to be cool, but everything inside of me remained a bit on the spinny side, and I couldn’t stop staring at my boyfriend. This morning I was seeing him in a whole new light, and now the idea that I might break up with him seemed ludicrous.

  One, who’d dump someone who could kiss like that? Two, when the hell had he learned to kiss like that? And three, why hadn’t we been doing it that way over the past few months?

  I bit my still-tingling lip and his gaze narrowed in on the motion. I should really say goodbye and get to work—my boss at Doc Lovejoy’s Vet Clinic and Grooming Center was cool, but she was also slightly freaking out about how she’d manage without me for the rest of the week, so I didn’t want to press my luck. “I better get going, or I’m gonna be late to work.”

  “I’ll walk you to your car.” Evan put his hand on the small of my back as we started down the sidewalk, and butterflies swarmed my stomach. Strange how my mediocre feelings for him had flipped so drastically, the tiniest touches now sending my hormones into overdrive. He’d always been fun, but until this morning, I never realized he was so funny.

  Those black market jokes made me smile all over again.

  But the sight of my car turned that smile upside down. The rim to the back right tire sat on the ground of the parking lot. “Oh, no. I bet it was that pothole I hit. Or maybe it was the construction zone I passed through.”

  I dropped down, pushing the rubber of the tire, like that’d make it go psych! and suddenly fill up with air. “See what I mean about my temperamental car? I thought the tires were one of the few things I didn’t have to worry about.”

  Evan’s hand came down on my shoulder as he squatted next to me. “Not a big deal. I’ll help you change the tire. You might want to warn your boss that you’ll be a few minutes late.”

  I nodded. I wished I was better at dealing with crises, whether big or small, and while I knew this landed on the small side, I still hated stuff like this. Not only did it veer from my carefully planned course, I felt stupid and weak for not knowing how to deal. It also took me back to that moment before I left for college, when my dad patted my head and told me he was afraid the real world would eat me alive. I wish he would’ve prepared me for it instead, but I guess there are some things that aren’t easy to prepare for.

  A flat tire was easy enough to manage.

  Dealing with things like betrayal and your life being upheaved, not so much. But I wasn’t going to think about that now, because I’d pushed through the pain and found a new situation for myself. And when I had to come face-to-face with my past this weekend, I’d… well, I wouldn’t be ready, but I’d deal.

  Since I didn’t want my thoughts to dwell on the bad—especially not after such a great, pleasantly surprising morning with Evan—I forced all that from my mind and focused on the problem at hand. I sent off a quick text, letting my boss know I’d probably be late, and then moved to the trunk of my car with Evan in tow.

  “Just pop it open and we’ll get the spare,” he said.

  “Yeah, about that… it might be a little more complicated than that.” The button on my key fob released the latch, and the trunk rose, revealing jumbo-sized bags of dog food, cat food, and special animal treats. Including catnip in bulk.

  “What are you?” Evan asked. “An animal drug dealer?”

  I laughed. “Now you know how I convince the animals at work to do what I want, whether I’m sending them back to the vet or the groomer. My boss asked me to pick up supplies yesterday afternoon, and obviously I haven’t been to work to offload them yet.”

  “Right. At work.”

  “You know, the place you go that pays you? Or maybe you don’t, since you never seem to have to go to your job.”

  “Hey,” he said, jabbing me in the side and making me twitch. “You’re supposed to be nice to the guy who’s about to change your tire.”

  “My bad.” I dropped my voice. “So, are you gonna help me move my supply or what?”

  Evan glanced around and then leaned in conspiratorially. “What about that dog across the street? He looks like he’s into some rough stuff.” He jerked his chin toward a bulldog who was waddling down the street with his owner.

  “Rookie mistake. The red eyes make him look like a puppy stoner, but bulldogs are lazy enough that you can shampoo, or trim, or even give them their shots, and they just sit there like whatever dude. It’s the tiny yippy ones you have to look out for.”

  “Good to know.” Evan gave me another one of those smiles I felt all the way down to my toes. Then he demonstrated the fact that his muscles were more than just for show as he hefted the heavy bags out of the trunk and onto the black tarmac.

  I demonstrated what I was good at by watching and making appreciative noises over his display of strength. The more I voiced my admiration, the more his face reddened, and he shyly ducked his head. As someone who majored in awkward with a minor in speaking-without-thinking, I embarrassed myself all the time. Evan always seemed so chill and unshakeable, which made it that much more fun to tease him.

  When he wiped his forearm across his forehead and his shirt rose, displaying a few inches of tantalizing ab muscles and cut obliques, I even added a catcall whistle. “Oh yeah. Lookin’ good.”

  In one quick movement, Evan whipped out his hand, grabbed my arm, and yanked me to him. “You think you’re real funny, don’t ya?”

 
“Because I am.” My heart beat out a rapid rhythm, and I worked to put on my best innocent act as I placed my hand on his chest and found his heart hammering away as quickly as mine. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to objectify you. It just sort of happened.”

  He shook his head, and I soaked in the feel of his warm, firm body against mine. He dipped his head, and I swore he was going to kiss me—a move I was totally onboard with, for the record—but then he released me and turned back to the trunk.

  Within a few minutes, he’d used the jack to lift the car off the ground. He worked the lug nuts free and slid off the damaged tire.

  “Thank you for doing this,” I said. “I should probably learn how to change it myself in case this happens again.”

  “No time like the present.” He patted the spot in front of him. “Get down here.”

  Me and my big mouth. It was one thing to learn; it was another to have someone watch me learn. I dropped down, feeling the heat of the tarmac soaking into the knees of my jeans. At least the temperature hadn’t raised much in the past hour—I’d been in this parking lot when it was sticky from the beating sun.

  “Just lift the tire into place,” Evan said, his breath stirring my hair and his chest bumping my back as he reached around and helped me maneuver it onto the bolts. At least I thought they were called bolts.

  Once the spare was in place, he handed me a lug nut and a cross-wrench thingie. I twisted the lug nut on as tightly as I could, and then looked over my shoulder at him.

  “Good job.” He reached around me and gave the wrench an extra twist, which brought him tighter against me.

  I’m liking this lesson more and more. Evan was also more patient than I would’ve given him credit for. This morning kept pointing out all the good qualities about him that I’d somehow missed.

  With the tire firmly in place, I twisted the handle on the jack until the car was back down and resting on the tire. Evan stood and extended a hand to help me up.

  “You’ll need to get it into a tire shop soon,” he said, “because the spare isn’t meant for a lot of miles or going fast.”

  “I’ll take it in after work tonight.”

  He went to putting the tools back in my trunk and then reloaded all the animal food. “Do you have someone at work to help you unload this stuff?”

  “Yeah. The vet techs or one of the groomers usually help me.”

  Evan swiped his hands together, slammed the trunk closed, and then led me to the driver’s side door, going so far as to open it for me.

  I wrapped my arms around his waist. “Thanks so much for helping me with my tire. I appreciate it.”

  “Anytime.”

  “I’ll, uh, call you later?”

  He nodded. Then his eyes went wide and he shook his head. “Wait, no. You can’t. Call me.”

  His moods seemed to be on some kind of whiplash spin cycle all morning, and just when I thought I had one figured out, the wrong word would cause this type of strange reaction. “Oh-kay, if you’re that opposed to talking on the phone, I’ll just text? At least to set a firm time to push off tomorrow morning. Unless you want to do that this second?”

  “No, I mean… I just got a new phone number—long story.” He held out his hand. “Here. I’ll put my new number in your phone. Then you can call me.” His features softened and he smiled down at me. “And I hope you will.”

  I put in my passcode, pulled up his contact info, and handed him the phone. “Seriously, what on earth were you drinking last night, because this hangover is doing a number on your charm level. Not that you aren’t usually charming, of course. This is just, like, a whole new level.” A genuine, less-showy level, one that made me think maybe I could lower the walls around my heart a little. Especially when I factored in changing my tire without so much as a complaint.

  A sheepish grin accompanied his shrug. “Sorry. I have a confidentiality agreement with the bottle. It’s all very hush-hush.”

  “I’ll get the truth out of you eventually.”

  “I’m sure you will,” he said, and he almost sounded sad about it, which left me scratching my head again—figuratively anyway, because I wasn’t letting go of him before I had to. I was afraid that whatever spell he and I were under this morning would break if I let go.

  He handed my phone back, and since I was going to be late enough as it was, I stuck with a quick peck on the lips instead of a repeat of our earlier kiss. Next time I got my lips on him, though, we were going to do more of that intense, world-spinning kind.

  “Goodbye, Gwen,” he said in my ear, his voice deliciously rough.

  “Goodbye, Evan.”

  His parting look held a hint of disappointment, and while I’d love to think it was because my presence meant that much to him, I knew that couldn’t be it.

  And now I was overanalyzing everything all over again, when I should be basking in the fact that I didn’t have to break up with my smoking hot boyfriend.

  I pushed inside my apartment, completely exhausted from the day and having to spend an hour at the tire shop. My energy renewed a couple of bars when I saw Tori watching TV. I set down my laptop bag and catapulted the armrest to flop next to her on the couch. “Guess what, guess what?”

  “You got into the catnip at work, and now you’re suspiciously happy?”

  I clicked my tongue. “Hey, just because you’re not as high on life as I am—”

  “No one is as high on life as you are. But it’s also why I love you.” She tucked her legs underneath her as she turned to face me. “Spill.”

  I released the squee I’d barely withheld all day. “This morning when I was with Evan, I totally felt the thing.”

  “It’s about bloody time.” Tori was far from British, but she was an anglophile and had adopted their tea-drinking and swearing—she said they could keep the rain. “I kept telling you that once you took that boy for a test drive, you’d feel all the things.”

  “No, I don’t mean…” Heat flared in my cheeks. “Well, I did kind of feel that while we were kissing, but I’m talking about the spark that’s been missing.”

  She nodded, but the crinkle between her eyebrows made it clear a certain level of confusion was still at play. “So, are you going to get laid or not? I’m going through a dry spell, leaving me no choice but to live vicariously through you, and so far, it’s been dreadfully puritanical.”

  “If you’re calling it a dry spell after only two months of breaking up with a guy, I’m going through the Sahara Desert of dry spells.”

  “I’m not disagreeing. It’s why I’ve been telling you to sleep with your supah hot boyfriend since before he was even technically your boyfriend.”

  Sometimes I wished it was that easy. Just erase one guy and every memory of him with another. Before today, I didn’t think that my connection to Evan was strong enough to

  erase the last guy—the one I’d been with since I was seventeen.

  Five years together that included promises of forever, and then he sleeps with one of my best friends. Not Tori, obviously. She was a more recently-acquired best friend. When I was crushed and suddenly in need of a new place to live, she had a room for rent. We’d been doing the roomie thing for the past nine months. And yes, I knew that taking that many months to move on from a breakup was pathetic, especially considering that my exes—BFF and boyfriend—had literally moved on, as in went back to our hometown and were now shacked up. Since I was from this tiny town where everyone knew everyone, they’d also be attending the same wedding I was this weekend. Fun times, right?

  When I’d hinted to Madison, the bride-to-be, that I might not be able to come to the wedding because of a certain bridesmaid, my ex-best friend called in tears and begged for forgiveness. Which made it pretty clear that while Madison had been one of my best friends since kindergarten, I couldn’t completely trust her, either—after all, she’d sworn not to tell Paige, and clearly she had. Trying to be the bigger person, I promised to try to put our unsavory past behind us and come to
the wedding.

  Luckily, I was used to shoving down my own feelings to save others from being uncomfortable. I also figured attending the wedding and showing how fine I was would keep everyone in my small town from giving me pity-filled looks. All I really wanted was to move on, and I had.

  Mostly.

  Thinking of all the inevitable drama made my nerves use the inside of my stomach as a trampoline, and I told myself it’d be okay. Evan was going with me. It’d be much easier to show everyone how fine I was with him by my side.

  And we have sparks! Delicious, addictive sparks! Thank goodness my heart had finally woken up from months of dormancy and remembered how to flutter.

  “Okay, since it sounds like I don’t need to pack a bag and crash your road trip anymore…?” Tori paused, waiting for me to confirm or deny.

  “No, I don’t think your crashing is necessary, but I love you for being willing to do that for me.” Even if you’d be a disastrous wedding crasher, and no one in my hometown would ever speak to me again.

  “You know I got your back. But since this is the last time I get to see you in way too many days, I say we order pizza and finish bingeing The Originals. We’ve established that Klaus is mine, right?”

  “You can have the antihero vampire with the British accent. But Elijah’s all mine.” There was something about the protective brother who was a gentleman, even at his most deadly, that was crazy hot.

  “Deal.”

  I glanced down at my clothes. My office manager position at the animal clinic meant I did more admin stuff than working directly with the animals, yet I almost always ended up with a layer of dog and/or cat hair. Today I also had doggy shampoo splatters, thanks to an impromptu grooming job. I knew I should force myself to get up, change, and pack so I’d be ready for tomorrow.