Counterfeit Boyfriend

by Cindi Madsen

  Apparently, once you caught some guy groping your daughter, no amount of charm helped. Or maybe it only made him more suspicious of me. The dude was larger and gruffer than I’d expected, and while I could see the similarities between Gwen and her mom, the only thing she and her dad had in common was a high level of intensity, only his was in intimidation instead of high-speed chatter.

  “He’s always been overprotective of me,” Gwen whispered back.

  Perfect. And even worse, he should be protecting her from me.

  “What I wish he would’ve done was prepare me by teaching me life skills instead of keeping me in a bubble and making it clear he didn’t believe I could do hard things.”

  Her parents returned with the dinner Gwen’s mom claimed she needed help grabbing. I suspected she’d used the aside to tell her husband to be nice to me. Judging from the steely glare he aimed my way, he’d decided to ignore it.

  The urge to squirm hit me, but I repressed it. Witness Stand 101: Nothing made you look as guilty as squirming around and not looking people in the eye. I bucked against my survival instincts and met his gaze. “Thanks again for having me in your home. It’s cool seeing where Gwen grew up.”

  “Thanks for bringing Gwenie home,” her mom said, passing me the plate with the roast. “We haven’t seen her for what feels like forever.”

  Gwen took the plate from me, nearly dumping it since she’d kept her attention on her mom. “It’s been a busy year.”

  “It’s cool,” Mr. Cosgrave said with a snort. “Kids these days. Just concerned if things are fun.”

  “Dad,” Gwen said between gritted teeth. “Evan is hardly a kid, and neither am I, for that matter.”

  Another snort.

  “I can take care of myself. I’m doing really well out in Raleigh.” She looked at me like she wanted… confirmation?

  “She’s great at her job. Offloads a lot of animal product.” Shit. That’s not what I should’ve said. How could I even think about being a lawyer if I couldn’t hold up under interrogation myself?

  Gwen simply laughed, though, the sound making my blundering answer better, even if it didn’t lighten the mood. “Evan taught me to change a tire, too.” She bumped her shoulder into me. “He’s teaching me lots of things.”

  “Yeah, that’s what I’m afraid of,” her dad muttered, undoubtedly recalling the make out session he’d interrupted.

  I rubbed my palms down my jeans.

  Gwen reached under the table and gave my knee a quick squeeze. “He’s going to be a lawyer, and when we went to the Lincoln Memorial today, he impressed me by reciting the Gettysburg Address from memory.”

  Please don’t ask me to recite it. If asked now, about all that would come out of my mouth is uhhhhh…. I suck and I know I’m not good enough for your daughter, and if she didn’t need me tomorrow, there’d be an Ethan-shaped hole in the wall.

  Of course Gwen would call it an Evan-shaped hole.

  Man, I do suck. No wonder he wants to kill me.

  Mr. Cosgrave placed his elbows on the table and fisted his hands under his chin, his fork still gripped in one of them and at the ready. “I thought your father was a lawyer and you just worked for him.”

  “Dad, Evan’s not on trial.”

  “It’s fine,” I said. At least this much I could handle. “My father is a lawyer. I’m planning on following in his footsteps.”

  “Then you better get off your ass and get started.”

  “Clive!” her mom scolded.

  A laugh escaped my lips. “That’s exactly what Gwen told me.”

  That reduced the stern glare by about an ounce. “She’s a smart girl.”

  I dared to take her hand. “She is. It’s one of my favorite things about her. Her love of lighthouses on the other hand… Well, I’m trying to deal with that.”

  “Says the guy who forced me onto a carnival ride!”

  And the scowl was back on her father’s face. I lowered my voice so only Gwen could hear. “Maybe let’s not use the word ‘force.’ And after the hotel incident, I feel like I should probably advise against ‘take advantage of.’”

  Gwen giggled and tightened her grip on our entwined hands. “Wow, you already sound like a lawyer.”

  Mr. Cosgrave piled more potatoes on his plate, never taking his eyes off me. “You know the Bar’s hard to pass. People who’ve been set on being lawyers all their lives fail it.”

  I really wished I could tell him I’d already passed it. Not only so he’d stop giving me the third-degree, but after all the work I’d put in, and because it was as hard to pass as he said and then some, I pretty much wanted to announce it to everyone. Gwen. Her parents. Strangers on the street.

  “I have no fear that when Evan’s ready, he’ll pass with flying colors, and that’s about enough of that talk.” Her voice hit a no-nonsense tone I hadn’t heard before, and the surprised expression on her dad’s face made me think he hadn’t either. Then her easy grin and happy demeanor was back in a flash. “Thanks for the amazing dinner, Mom.”

  After eating nothing but junk food since our continental breakfast, which I’d decided must be one continent where they were stingy with their dried-out pastries, this dinner tasted even more amazing.

  “I hope it’s not too cold,” Mrs. Cosgrave said. “We expected you sooner.”

  Just when I thought we’d escaped all the scrutiny and tenseness. I understood the hint of disappointment, since the woman clearly missed her daughter, but the hint of remorse in Gwen’s features scraped at me. “Sorry, that’s my fault, Mrs. Cosgrave. I insisted on stopping at D.C. and Gwen took me by the Department of Justice building.”

  “I also insisted on stopping in D.C., and Evan’s being nice. I slept in this morning.”

  “Well, you needed it after your allergy attack,” I added.

  Forks clattered against plates and dinner came screeching to a halt.

  “I should’ve advised you against bringing that up,” Gwen muttered to me before raising her voice. “I’m totally fine.”

  “This is why you should move closer to home,” her dad said. “If there’s an emergency, we’ll be around to help. And Dr. Dorian already knows your medical history.”

  “I can’t not live my life because I have a manageable allergy. I’m fine. See.” She spread her arms, the way she had with me. Then she patted my shoulder. “Evan took good care of me.”

  “Do you have a backup EpiPen? I can call and get Dr. Dorian to get you another before you go.”

  No way in hell was I going to comment on that subject, but I arched an eyebrow at Gwen so she remembered where I stood on that point.

  “I have it covered. Like I said”—Gwen raised an eyebrow of her own, only both came along for the ride—“I can take care of myself. Now, can we please talk about something else? Like, literally anything else.”

  “Sure. Evan…” Her dad turned to me, and apprehension shot up my spine, leaving it stick straight. “Where exactly do you see your relationship with my daughter going?”

  20 Gwen

  “I can’t believe they set you up in the office downstairs,” I said. “This is ridiculous. I’m a grown-ass woman. I live on my own. If we weren’t here, we could have sex all the time.”

  Evan’s eyebrows shot up.

  “I mean, I know we haven’t been, but I want to now, and…” My heart beat an erratic rhythm in my chest. “You want to, right?”

  “I don’t want your dad to kill me.”

  I frowned. That wasn’t the answer I wanted, even though it was something I also wanted. Or didn’t want. Whatever.

  Evan cupped my cheek. “We don’t have to rush it. I think you’re amazing, and I’ve had the best day.”

  “I have, too, which is why I don’t want it to end. And my parents have to fall asleep sometime. We can just wait them out and then I’ll sneak you into my room and—”

  “Honestly, I’m exhausted.”

  “Oh.” Disappointment tugged at my heart and lungs, dragg
ing them down to make more room for my rising self-doubt. Did guys sometimes choose sleep if sex was an option? I only had one other relationship to compare it to, and that guy was never too exhausted, but he also wasn’t too tired to screw my best friend, so… “I’m sorry that my dad interrogated you like that. I think that Kyle’s betrayal took us all by surprise, enough that my dad felt like he didn’t vet him properly, even though he’s not the one who vetted him, and…”

  If talking about my ex-boyfriend and my dad didn’t get Evan in the mood, I didn’t know what would.

  Stupid tears pricked my eyes. Maybe I was one of those girls who could temporarily snag a guy but not keep him. After my dad had asked that loaded question, the one about where he saw this relationship going, I’d cut it off. Told him that was enough questions if he wanted us to stay. Then I inquired after his job, something Dad had reluctantly let me steer the conversation toward until he’d gotten caught up in it for real. Only now I was kind of wishing I hadn’t interfered, because I wanted to know, while also being terrified that I didn’t want to know. Not when knowing might break my heart, and I’d finally put the pieces back together and gave it time to remember how to beat. How to love again.

  No. I can’t let it go there if he doesn’t love me back.

  I was also being a bit of a chicken, what with the wedding tomorrow and all the inevitable drama that’d pop up there. I needed the guy I’d spent the best-day-ever with. The guy who promised he’d be by my side and assured me I’d be fine.

  Of course, he also said I’d be fine no matter what, because I was me and could take on the world.

  Was it bad to want to have hot, passionate sex with my boyfriend more than wanting to take on the world? After all, say I was going to be a superhero—or even a villainess—even they usually had sidekicks.

  “Don’t worry about it,” Evan said, and it took my brain a few seconds to sort through my storm of emotions and go back to my apology over my dad.

  “You could come up for a little while before heading back down to bed.” I put my hand on the banister of the stairs, hoping Evan wouldn’t let me really go up all alone. I’d promised him cuddling! Admittedly, I’d wanted some of that cuddling for myself.

  “Better not,” he said.

  My pride stung, the pain radiating through my heart. Well, smarting or not, I still had some self-respect, and I wasn’t going to beg him to sneak up to my room and spend the night with me, even if it felt like in a lot of ways I’d done exactly that.

  I wanted him to want me.

  Why doesn’t he want me?

  “Guess this is goodnight, then.” Something deep inside of me cracked right open, and I quickly spun around to head upstairs.

  Evan caught my wrist, holding me in place until I slowly turned back to face him. His eyes bored into mine, and it was like he was challenging me to… I didn’t know. See something there.

  “I see you,” I said. “You’re the guy who’s made me happier than I ever thought was possible these past few days. The guy who’s different in more ways than I realized. The guy who makes me feel safe, even on rides that are built overnight by people in a hurry.”

  One corner of his mouth quirked up, bringing out that chiseled jawline that I’d gone from borderline to full-out obsessed with.

  It seemed like whatever was holding him back was fracturing. Peeling away.

  I stepped down one stair, the extra boost in my height leaving us nose-to-nose, and whispered, “I see you, Evan.”

  His expression shifted, and the smile he gave me held so much sadness. He lifted my hand and pressed a kiss to my palm that sunk deep and radiated all the way up my arm. Then he dropped it and said, his voice so quiet I could barely make out the words. “Goodnight, Guinevere.”

  Since last night, some of the ease had leaked out of my interactions with Evan. Instead of falling asleep, I’d tossed and turned for hours, thinking of him downstairs. Thinking of how it’d been in the car. At the carnival. While we were touring D.C.

  Now it was back to the way it had been before our road trip, where he seemed constantly distracted and there was no PDA when other people were around—I’d sort of initiated that in the before period, not totally comfortable with kissing in front of his friends or at large gatherings.

  But Evan was the one keeping me at a distance now. My tour guide spiel as I showed him around my tiny town was stilted and passionless.

  And I’d shown him the old-fashioned ice cream place! You know it’s bad when you can’t get excited over ice cream that’s been freshly churned.

  Maybe that’s the way Evan feels about me. Maybe he’s Gwen-intolerant.

  Thanks, brain. Have I mentioned you suck today? If you’d like to not talk to me as punishment, that’d be great.

  It didn’t make sense, though. He’d told me I was beautiful, and sure, there was a big difference between telling and showing, but I hadn’t imagined his hard length pressing against me when we’d been making out in front of his car before my parents interrupted us. So glad we got to recap that awkwardness with a meal so full of tension it’d make dinner with a hungry Hannibal Lecter seem like a nice way to pass an evening.

  As if I wasn’t frustrated enough, recalling our heated kissing session, with all that exhilarating friction I wanted more of, added a different kind of frustration.

  I slowed in front of one of the cozy wooden benches that lined the sidewalk in this area of town. “Shall we sit for a minute?”

  “Sure,” Evan said.

  Ugh, the perfectly polite, perfectly impersonal responses were killing me. I’d hoped that leaving my parents’ house would help, but our banter remained off in the ether with everything else that’d been building between us before it disappeared into a black hole of suck.

  The extra depressing thing was that if I would’ve broken up with him before our trip, like I’d been going to, I wouldn’t be nearly this hurt. But the thought of missing out on the conversations and kisses of the last few days also caused my heart to knot.

  Part of me just wanted to swing my leg over him and straddle his lap as we sat on this bench, public decency be damned. Either compel him to grab me and kiss me the way he had yesterday, or to pressure him to tell me he didn’t want me that way.

  “Gwen! Ohmigosh, is that really you?”

  For all my trepidation about coming home after so much had changed, the way Madison squealed and ran at me took me right back to high school. We crashed in the middle of the town square, talking over each other and complimenting each other’s hair and makeup.

  My heart swelled as I took her in. “Man, it’s good to see you,” I said, not realizing how much I’d truly missed her until now.

  “Girl, you have no idea.”

  I laughed—anytime I ever used “man” to start a sentence, Madison began her response with “girl” and vice versa. “I can’t believe you’re getting married today! What are you doing, strolling around town?”

  “Had to get a few last things from…” Her smile turned into a propped-up version and her brow creased.

  “It’s okay to say Paige’s name. I’m sure I’ll hear it a lot this afternoon, what with her being in the wedding.”

  Madison gripped my hand. “I wanted you to be a bridesmaid, too. It’s just since I can’t exactly ask Kade not to have his brother as a groomsman, that means Kyle’s in the wedding party, and I thought that would probably mean you didn’t want to be, and—”

  “Madison. We already went over all this.” Sure, I’d experienced a pinch or five of bitterness that our town’s small population made it slightly incestuous in the way that there was no way to avoid cross-dating—for the record, no actual incest—but my resentment didn’t get aimed at Madison. She fell in love with Kyle’s older brother, who’d always been super nice to me, and I was sure he adored Madison. “I told you that with me living out of state and so unsure of my schedule, it’d be hard to even make it to the wedding anyway. I truly only meant that I can’t avoid Paige forever
and we… Well, we’re working on repairing things.”

  A stretch, but it was the woman’s wedding day, and she was one of my best friends and had always been there for me, so for the foreseeable future, Paige and my issues didn’t exist. At least I’d fake like they didn’t.

  Madison’s gaze drifted over my shoulder. “Since I don’t recognize him, I’m guessing this is the boyfriend?”

  In the blur of rushing over and talking and all the conflicted feelings over what today would bring, I’d nearly forgotten about Evan.

  Something I doubted would’ve happened yesterday, but thinking about that wouldn’t help anything, so I was doing my best not to.

  He placed his hand on my lower back as he leaned in to shake Madison’s hand with his other, and his touch set off a current of electricity, one that shocked me to my core. It was like that first drink of water when your mouth’s so dry you’re sure dehydration’s already set in.

  How can you forget how amazing water is, but it happens on a daily basis, until you crave that next drink as much as you do your next breath. And somewhere along the way, I’d apparently become that dependent on Evan’s touch. Great. Now I’m going to be dealing with today while conflicted and thirsty and ugh.

  “Sorry,” I said, forcing myself to focus on the here and now. “I’m slacking on my duties. Evan, Madison. Madison, Evan.”

  Did I imagine that flinch, or did Evan actually flinch? The masochist in me whispered that maybe touching me was suddenly that much of a hardship, but then surely he would’ve moved his hand off of me instead of sliding it around my waist and hooking it on my hip. “So nice to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

  “I need to hear more about you,” Madison said, assessing him with her foxlike gaze.