Counterfeit Boyfriend

by Cindi Madsen

  We’d been on Highway Sixty-Four for a while and had settled into a comfortable speed and easy conversation. So far, we’d mostly seen a lot of highway, cars, and green trees.

  I’d also seen a lot of Gwen’s profile—probably too much, considering I should be keeping my eyes on the road. It proved nearly impossible to abstain from daydreaming about kissing her full lips as she talked on and on about nothing and everything.

  Then there were her legs. Her shorts were distracting, to say the least, and she somehow managed to sit crisscrossed on the seat, a move I could never pull off without my knees constantly slamming into something. The position made her shorts creep higher on her thighs, and I was trying not to ogle all that creamy skin, even though my eyes regularly strayed of their own accord.

  “Twizzler?” She extended one to me, then bit into hers, and it definitely didn’t help with my daydreaming-about-her-lips problem.

  A few minutes later she cracked her window, even though the A/C was blasting, and the incoming breeze swirled her red strands around her face. They caught the sun in the most hypnotic way, giving her an angelic glow.

  “Are you still hot with the A/C on?” I was going to point out that rolling down the window would only make her warmer, but I didn’t want to be one of those “well technically” know-it-alls.

  She rubbed her arms. “Actually, I’m getting sort of cold. But keep it at whatever temperature you want,” she quickly said. “I figured this way I’d get some warmth and fresh air.”

  If it was just me in the car, I’d crank the A/C even higher—I never could seem to get it cool enough while driving for long hours. “I have a hoodie in the back if you want it.”

  “Awesome. Because admittedly, this fresh air smells more like toxic exhaust.” A quick flick of the button and her window rolled up. “I packed my jacket in my suitcase for some reason, which is stupid, because I’m constantly cold, especially whenever I go into a restaurant and they have the temperature on arctic-blast setting.”

  The seatbelt clicked free and zipped into place at the top of her door, and then she swiveled in her seat. “Every winter, I take a moment to thank the weather gods that I live in North Carolina now. Pennsylvania winters are crazy frigid. The downfall is that every place in the South loves blasting their A/C in the summer, when what they should be doing is enjoying the warmth, not making it feel like winter all over again.”

  She maneuvered herself between the two front seats, and with her ass right at my eye-level with a tiny turn of my head, there was no way I could resist checking it out. So I didn’t bother trying.

  I drank in the way her shorts hugged her curves, and the floral perfume I’d smelled this morning hit me again. It gave me flashbacks of how much I liked holding her against me as I explored her mouth with mine. Last night I’d told myself I wouldn’t initiate any relationship-type gestures, leaving it all up to her. But let’s just say I wasn’t heartbroken she’d initiated this morning’s kissing session, and I was hoping she’d initiate more of them.

  “Almost…” She slipped farther down between the seats. “Got it.”

  I expected her to slide back into place, but a grunt came from her instead.

  “Um, I’m stuck.” Her feet scrambled for purchase, not finding anything. “Like seriously stuck. I need help.”

  “Eh, I think I’ll leave you right there. That way, I can do this whenever I want…” I debated between thigh or butt, and while I really wanted to get my hands on her ass, it seemed too aggressive. My brother might’ve known her for a couple of months, but I’d only known her for a little over a day.

  A cold knot formed in my gut. Why’d I have to think about that?

  “Evan!”

  Gripping the wheel with my left hand, I dragged my hand across her bare thigh and bit back a groan—her skin was as silky as it looked. “Yeah, I’m liking this predicament more and more. It’s only another hour or so until we reach the lighthouse—you can make it till then, can’t you?”

  She kicked out a foot, but the only thing she managed to do was change the radio station. “I’m seriously going to punch you in the face once I get up.”

  “Wow, you really need to work on your motivational skills. That’s not exactly inspiring me to help.” This time, I couldn’t resist, but went for a teasing pinch on one cheek instead of copping a feel.

  She squealed, and I grinned, having way too much fun at her expense. A laugh accompanied her squirming, and I wasn’t sure if it was being squished or the blood rushing to her head that made it sound lower than usual. “Only I could manage to get stuck in a car. Stupid hips.”

  “Hey, don’t go calling your hips stupid—I’m rather fond of them.” Silently wishing her perfect ass a fond goodbye, I moved my hand around to the front of her thigh and gave a light tug. When that didn’t dislodge her, I tugged harder.

  Hard enough that the car in the other lane honked at my minor swervage—jeez what a baby—but it was also hard enough that Gwen managed to free herself. She sat back on her heels on the passenger seat, a curtain of hair covering her face, my maroon hoodie gripped in her fist like the spoils of war.

  She ran a hand through her long locks, rearranging them back in place, and flashed me a dimpled grin. Then she seemed to remember she was supposed to be holding a grudge, her scowl so fucking cute I could hardly stand it. “I can’t wait until you get yourself in a sticky situation during our road trip.” She crossed her arms. “Guess who’s not going to come to your rescue?”

  Hell, I was already in a sticky situation. But if she was doing the rescuing, I’d dive right in—this whole trip proved that. “I came through eventually.”

  “Mm-hm.” She zipped up my hoodie and snuggled into it, and there was something extremely sexy about her wearing my too-big clothes. It felt like a way of marking her as mine, and I wanted her to be mine.

  Whoa, thoughts. Let’s slow it down before things get out of control. A sentiment I should apply to our speed. I eased off the accelerator and hit the cruise control. It was way too easy to go fast in this car.

  In the car, with the girl. I usually wasn’t a fast kind of guy, but damn did I want to be right now.

  What were we talking about before I got so distracted by her ridiculous body?

  Being cold. Pennsylvania. “What brought you to North Carolina, anyway?” Immediately I worried it was something I—as Evan—should already know. Some of the things about this whole warped situation, like jumping past the stilted and awkward getting-to-know-you conversations to the more intimate part of a relationship were awesome. But I wanted to find out more about her, which meant backtracking.

  “College. And… my high school boyfriend, as much as I hate admitting that.”

  My fingers tightened on the steering wheel. I already hated the guy, even though they’d obviously broken up.

  “He’ll… be at the wedding. I know I was a bit vague when I said I’d like you to come along since I have a complicated past with a few of the people in the wedding party, but I’ve hesitated to really get into it, because I didn’t want to, like, send you running. But now you’re kind of trapped, so…” Her laugh held an uncomfortable edge, and I automatically reached for her hand. She gripped it like a lifeline. “Long story short, Kyle and I started dating when I was a junior in high school. After graduation, we moved to North Carolina together—he had a football scholarship and I thought we’d be together forever, so I abandoned my plans to go to Penn State and went to North Carolina University instead.”

  Great. A jock. I could hold my own in that arena, but not against someone who’d played college ball. What do you think you’re gonna do? Challenge the guy to a game of football to win Gwen’s hand?

  “Is this… okay?” she asked. “I know it’s some unwritten rule to not talk about exes with your boyfriend, but I also don’t want you to be unprepared.”

  As long as “okay” means I want to kill some guy I’ve never met, sure. “Whatever you want to tell me.” I slipped my f
ingers between hers. “I’m here for whatever you need.”

  The tension claiming her muscles loosened a fraction. “I appreciate that. The short version is we moved to North Carolina, dated all through college, and then one day, one of my best friends from home came into town. I was so excited to see her that I took off work early to surprise her. And boy was she surprised. So was I. And so was my boyfriend, who was naked and on top of her.”

  Gwen glanced out the window, and I had no earthly idea what to say or do, or—shit. As much guilt as I experienced about this whole ruse, I was glad I was on the trip with her. I didn’t want her facing those assholes alone.

  She let out a shaky exhale and her voice trembled slightly. “Anyway, you could say that now we got bad blood.”

  She glanced at me like she expected something, but I wasn’t sure what. Evan said he would only bungle things up, but I was doing a pretty good job of bungling right now.

  “Like the T Swift song? This is me trying to joke about a super awkward situation so it doesn’t sound so sad.”

  “Funny,” I said, even though I did a bad job selling it. I hated her ex-boyfriend and her supposed friend for putting that tremble in her voice. For doing something so shitty to someone so sunny and kind.

  “The bride’s a friend in what used to be our tight-knit trio, and Paige—the friend who… she’s a bridesmaid. The groom is also my ex’s brother, so yeah. So, so much awkwardness. When I hinted I might not make it to the wedding, Madison freaked out, and then Paige called me, and well, obviously I’m going, because I’m a big sucker. I’m from this small town where everyone knows everyone, and you can bet your ass that they all know what went down, so they’ll all be gossiping about me as they watch to see how I handle it. Anyway, now you’re pretty much caught up and… prepared?” The look she gave me made it clear she worried about my reaction.

  “There’s a whole lot to sort through in that story,” I said, and she nodded. “But first things first, you’re not a sucker.” I brushed my thumb across the back of her hand. “You’re sweet and you have a big heart. Next, I don’t bet my ass on things. I need it for sitting.”

  Confusion flickered across her features, then she put it together with what she’d said. “And for filling out your jeans so nicely?”

  “Exactly. Speaking of asses that do an amazing job at filling out clothes…” I shot her a heated glance. “I got a pretty good look at yours when you were stuck, and honey, don’t you dare go betting it, either.”

  A dimple popped in her cheek, hinting at her smile before it caught and spread.

  “As for the people in town and your asshole ex and friend? I have no problem showing them all that not only have you moved on, you’ve moved on with someone who’s—in my humble opinion—way better.”

  She laughed, and the last of the tension faded from her body. “So freaking humble.”

  “Right?”

  She leaned across the console and kissed my cheek, holding her lips there for a couple of incredible seconds. Since this counted as her initiating, I turned my head and brushed my lips across hers. What with me trying to keep the car on the road, it was way too brief of a kiss, but I’d finish it later. Like I said, she initiated, so it was okay for me to finish.

  I was doing a great job of convincing myself how valiant and pure my intentions were. If only the angel on my shoulder would shut the hell up and let the devil on my right make his point.

  We passed a few comfortable minutes of silence with the greenery whizzing by.

  I wonder how long until Gwen can’t handle the qui—

  “I think we need music. Are we at that stage in the relationship yet when we can play our favorite playlists, no shame, no judgments?”

  “I don’t know. That’s a pretty big step. It also depends on what’s on your playlist.”

  “Um, awesome stuff. Naturally.”

  “Naturally,” I echoed. “Let’s take that leap. I think we’re ready.”

  The first song was decent, but a few notes into the second, I casted her a sideways glance. “Are you serious with this auto-tuned crap?”

  Her mouth dropped open and she made a circle in our little car bubble with her finger. “This is supposed to be a safe place.”

  “I know. That’s why there shouldn’t be…” I frowned as the tempo kicked up and divulged into electronica, nails-on-a-chalkboard screeching madness. “Techno dance music that tries to beat my eardrums to death.”

  “You’re one to talk. You like horrible metal music that screams at you.”

  “I don’t”—Shit, Evan did like that crap—“like only metal.”

  “Fine.” She skipped the song and a thumping bassline filled the air. It was less electronica and more pop with an obligatory rap solo thrown in, but equally horrible.

  I shot her another you’ve-got-to-be-kidding-me look, but she bounced in her seat and bobbed her head, and suddenly I could see the allure. Don’t get me wrong, I’d rather turn down the music and watch her dance without the ear-assault, but if it was between cringing while I watched her dance or silence?

  She sang along, and she had a hell of a voice. There was swinging of hair and other hypnotizing things were bouncing and then I was shifting in my seat.

  No contest, the dancing won.

  8 Gwen

  At first I was opposed to the idea of taking off Evan’s hoodie because it was dang cozy, not to mention smelled like the scrumptious new cologne he’d been wearing the past two days. But at the moment, it was the cool breeze coming off the water that had me clutching it tighter.

  “It’s seventy-two degrees,” Evan said, plenty of mocking in his voice as he spread his arms wide, like he wanted to soak in the cool ocean air. The tall grass swayed around the knees of his jeans, the blue sky making a perfect backdrop to bring out his eyes and accentuate his hotness. “How can you be cold?”

  “I’m more of an eighty and above girl. But look, I totally unzipped to account for the weather.” Full disclosure: I was considering re-zipping.

  Evan wrapped his arm around my shoulders as we neared the lighthouse, and happiness buoyed me up, leaving me light and floaty. Four hours in the car without seeing any sights, and this was already the best road trip ever.

  When Evan asked about why I’d moved to North Carolina, a pinch of disappointment went through me. Not just because opening up that can of worms meant talking about my douchehole ex, but also because I’d told him before that I’d moved here with my boyfriend for college. I hadn’t gone into all the nitty gritty, I-want-to-bleach-my-eyeballs details, but I’d mentioned it.

  Admittedly, I shouldn’t be surprised. A lot of times I got caught up in talking, and I wasn’t always sure how well he was listening. Distraction constantly got the best of him, but everything was so different now. When I talked, he looked at me so intently, and he seemed to be listening just as intently. It was unnerving and amazing at the time.

  “What?” he asked, and I realized I was staring at him like a lovestruck fool. Accurate, but I should probably play it at least a little cool.

  Or not. Why bother when it was so fun to put more of myself out there? Especially when he’d been so amazing about my earlier confession. “I’m just having a really good time with you.”

  He curled me closer, adding another layer of warmth that traveled right down to my core. “Right back at you.”

  We paused at the plaque with all the facts about the lighthouse. Most of the information I’d read before. About the year it was erected—1802 was the original, but the current tower was 1870—and how they’d moved it in 1999.

  “How’d they move an entire lighthouse?” Evan asked.

  “Very carefully,” I answered, and then received a look that a smartass answer like that deserved. “Come on. We’ve got two-hundred and fifty-seven steps. I’ll tell you about it on the way up.”

  “I think I’d rather know it’s steady before we get halfway up there.”

  “Halfway? Now you’re underestimatin
g how fast I can talk. By halfway you’ll be able to compose a research paper from all my spewed facts.” I tugged on his hand and he finally relented and followed me into the tall brick structure with a barbershop swirl, only in black instead of red.

  The spiral staircase inside was narrow enough that going side by side wasn’t an option.

  My thighs began burning from the exertion as I climbed, and so did my lungs, reminding me that I wasn’t in as good a shape as I would prefer. But then I remembered that being in shape for this would mean those hellish stair-climbers at the gym and things like running, and that was a lot of training. Put in that perspective, suffering ten to fifteen minutes as opposed to daily grind sessions seemed like the better option.

  Since I’d now gone longer than usual without talking, I started in on the fun facts. “This stretch of shore is home to more than six-hundred shipwrecks. The rough waves and unpredictable currents shift the sandbars around the Hatteras Islands, and one of those old-timey sea captains who’d sailed all around the globe claimed you should do yourself a favor and avoid it completely.”

  “Oh, now you tell me,” Evan said, and I laughed.

  “Were you planning on boating past here in the near future?”

  “Well, not anymore.”

  I told him the few other facts I knew, about how lightning once struck the lighthouse and formed cracks in the masonry, and how they’d moved it to avoid the encroaching sea.

  Slightly breathless—okay, significantly breathless—I stepped out onto the deck, and what little oxygen I had left caught in my throat at the amazing view.

  Green trees morphed into marshy areas that dotted the coast, and the Atlantic stretched out forever, meeting the pale-blue skyline in the distance.

  The wind blew harder up here, and I tipped my face to the sun and let the breeze have its way with my hair.

  Then I stepped forward, gripped the iron rail, and peered way, way down at the ground, around twelve-stories below.

  It took me a moment to catch my name, thrown at me but boomeranged back by the wind before I could fully grip it. I glanced over my shoulder at Evan, who remained near the brick wall of the lighthouse.