by Lisa Suzanne
He stands and mock punches me in the bicep. “What if it works out?”
I pause in my pacing and look at him. It’s honestly a side of the equation I never considered.
What if it does work out and what if I’m wasting all this time pretending when we could actually be together?
“What if you stopped looking at the negative side and focused on the positive?” he asks softly. “She’s into you, man.”
“You don’t know that.”
He nods. “I do know that. For a fact. Your sister was an open book on the bus ride home, and she told all of us how Emily has been in love with you since junior high. Telling her how you feel wouldn’t just potentially give you all the happiness you deserve. It would give her that, too, and it would be making her dreams come true.”
“But the contract—” I start, and he cuts me off.
“Fuck the contract.” He’s explicitly clear in his tone.
It’s a contract. The logical side of me knows I can’t just say fuck it, but the other part of me thinks maybe he’s right.
CHAPTER 24: ADAM
“Filming begins in three...two...one!” Kylie says after debriefing us, and then the cameras are on.
She gave us the same reminder this time as she did the first time we filmed a reality show: the cameras are always watching.
I took it to heart, but back then I had nothing to hide.
Things are different now.
We’re all outfitted with mic packs, and I remember learning pretty quickly that if there was ever anything I didn’t want the cameras to hear, I’d just slip off the pack and close a door where there wasn’t a camera.
But I still need to be more careful this time around. While I know Dax will ensure our ultimate protection, that doesn’t mean that cameramen don’t gossip, that they won’t sell the truth to the paparazzi for a nice little payday. So ultimately, Emily and I need to act married all day every day...including tonight, when we’re off to Emerson’s to kick off the filming of Rock on the Road, and this weekend, when we head out of town for a couple shows.
The bar’s just a couple blocks over from where we live. It’s a chilly fifty-four degrees on this beautiful mid-December San Diego evening, and rather than worry about driving home, we all decided to walk over just like old times.
Dax and Kylie lead the pack, his arm slung casually around her shoulders.
Brody and Zoey follow close behind, hand-in-hand, and then there’s Rascal and my sister just in front of Emily and me, Rascal’s arm around Amber’s waist. Kane and Sierra are behind us.
Somehow our little group of five guys has turned into a family...with two cameramen involved, one walking backwards in front of Kylie and Dax and the other heading up the rear.
A few years ago, we would’ve had to haul our gear to the bar and get there earlier in the day to set up.
Times have certainly changed.
Now we have a group of roadies who handle our shit for us, so we don’t even need to test the mics or check the sound system. We pay people to do it for us.
Oh, and we have cameras following us. We have people who care about every detail of our lives, as shown by the astronomical ratings of our first season on the show.
I slide my hand into Emily’s. We’re newlyweds, after all, and surely newlyweds hold hands. Right? I don’t know. I’ve never actually been one before.
She glances up at me, and I glance down at her, and a certain heat passes between us. Once the visions of that night came back to me, they began to attack my memory often, and sometimes with new details.
My hand as it moved along the soft skin of her thigh.
The taste of her body.
Bending her over the bed as I entered her.
Her moving over the top of me, her tits bouncing every time she slammed down on my cock.
The perfect feel of every part of her, the rush of passion between us when our mouths met, the emotions I felt that were both unexpected and powerful.
It was Emily unleashed, and I want it again.
I need it again.
And she doesn’t remember a single thing about it.
I lean down and press a soft kiss to her lips the way two people in love would share a random kiss on the middle of the sidewalk. It’s gentle and sweet despite the savage thoughts I’m having about her, and when it’s over, her eyes seem to glaze over in a bit of a daze—the same daze I’m suddenly feeling, too.
My whole body heats for her as my cock presses roughly against the zipper of my jeans.
I want her.
Her lips tip up when we part, and she must be thinking that the kiss was just for the benefit of the cameras following us.
It wasn’t.
And tonight when the cameras are off, I’m going to confess.
I told Dax I’d think about it, but even then, I already knew the truth. I’m planning to tell her tonight when we get home from Emerson’s, when we’re in my room and the mic packs are turned off and it’s just the two of us and the bed we’re sharing.
That’s my plan, anyway.
But things never really seem to go according to plan.
We play our set, which is only an hour long, and then we take pictures with fans who’ve lined up to meet us. Emerson, the bar’s owner, set up a separate section with a screen and organized the line, which is VIP only, and once we finish our duties there, we’re released to the crazy crowd. I seem to have lost my wife in the shuffle until I spot her laughing and drinking along with the other women of MFB...and my sister, who I don’t really consider a permanent member of that part of our crew yet despite the amount of time she’s been hanging around Rascal.
I’m on my way over to her, but I keep getting stopped for selfies and autographs—not wholly unexpected since it comes with the territory, but I want to get back to Emily.
Again...not just for the cameras.
The crowd is causing my anxiety levels to rise. I’m generally a calm person, but the crush of people pushing and shoving to get to me in this small space is a little overwhelming. My eyes are on the prize, though, and just seeing her across the room feels like a calming grace.
When I’ve managed to make my way halfway across the distance separating us, I feel someone tap my shoulder. I turn around and my eyes meet the blue ones of my ex.
I feel the color drain from my face. I wasn’t expecting to see her here tonight. She had to have known I’d be here, though...she had to have come for me.
I can’t help but wonder why.
“Bree,” I whisper. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to see you. To talk to you.”
She could’ve called. She could’ve texted. She could’ve walked up to my goddamn door. She knows where I live...but she didn’t do any of that. She waited until the cameras were rolling to ambush me.
I glance around and see the cameras close by. I blow out a breath. I can’t have this conversation here, not with my mic on and the cameras a few feet away.
“Then let’s talk.” I grab her arm and steer her through the crowd to the back room of the bar. I glance behind me, and I’ve lost the cameraman who was near me. I take her all the way outside to the quiet alley behind the bar, click off my mic pack, and say, “You’ve got my attention. Why are you here?”
“All I wanted was to feel like you’d choose me, to have a commitment from you, and you get married six months after we break up?”
I stare at her and debate whether or not to tell her the truth. Finally, I blow out a breath. “It’s not what it looks like.”
She lets out a maniacal little laugh, and I realize how very much over her I really am. It’s not her I want. Not anymore.
It’s Emily.
“I knew it.” She presses her lips together and shakes her head. “I fucking knew it.”
“You knew what?” I ask.
“That it isn’t real.” She takes a step toward me, and then another and another.
Before I get a chance to continue the
ruse, to tell her that it isn’t what it looks like because Emily isn’t just some girl but that we’ve known each other for years and years—longer than I’ve known Bree, in fact—something unexpected happens.
She takes the final step that closes the gap between us. “I still love you, Adam.” And then, just like old times, she kisses me.
It’s familiar in the midst of all the chaos, but it doesn’t make my heart race or my body heat for more.
It doesn’t even fill the void I always thought she left in my heart—not the way Emily fills it.
I don’t give in, but it takes my brain a second to catch up as I come to terms with this new feeling. I’m kissing someone I expected to kiss for the rest of my life, and all I can think of in this moment is that I’m glad it’s not her I’m kissing for the rest of my life because if it was her, I might not get my shot with Emily.
Turns out I might’ve missed my chance, anyway.
The door opens, the loud rush of music from inside filling the quiet alley.
I jump apart from her guiltily as my first thought is that it’s a cameraman.
It isn’t.
Horror explodes down my spine as I watch the hopefulness dash from Emily’s eyes as hurt takes its place.
It shouldn’t feel like horror considering our situation...but it does. She completely misreads the situation, as she should—as I would, too, were our situations reversed. But they’re not, and it’s me out here kissing my ex. She shakes her head and turns back inside without a word.
“Shit,” I mutter. I turn back to my ex. “I’m sorry, Bree. I wish I had a different answer for you, but I’m in love with somebody else.”
With that, I turn and dash toward the door so I can explain what Emily just witnessed.
CHAPTER 25: EMILY
I’m so stupid.
Just last night, I was so sure that he had feelings for me, too. The way we sat and watched that show together was such a normal couple activity after everything that’s happened the past week, and today, on our one-week anniversary, I caught him kissing his ex.
After I just broke up with someone who was cheating on me.
Is it me? Is there something intrinsically...cheat-on-able about me?
I realize we’re just faking it and this is a completely different situation, but I thought we were on the same page as far as being exclusive with each other for the duration of our contract.
I guess I was wrong, and that’s the ache that throbs the worst in this particular gut punch.
I recognized her the second I stepped outside.
I’d recognize that face anywhere, mostly because it’s burned in my memory after having to take the Wilson family Christmas photos and staring at the way he looked at her when I snapped the two of them.
I hated her in that moment...mostly because I wanted to be her. I thought maybe I saw it in the way his eyes met mine after he clutched my hand in his while we walked to Emerson’s and he kissed me, but I must’ve been mistaken. I was seeing what I wanted to see.
I don’t know if the cameras caught him going out back with Bree, and I don’t know how I’m supposed to react. People know who she is because of the first season of the show, and something tells me she wanted to make sure she had an appearance on season two.
I still hate her, but it’s for very different reasons now.
I find Amber. “I’m going to head home. I’m not feeling well.”
Her brows furrow. “You okay?” she asks.
I press my lips together as I try to keep from crying. I shake my head, and she looks around for Rascal.
“Shit,” she mutters. She turns to Kylie. “I’m going to take Emily home. She isn’t feeling well.”
Kylie eyes us both. “Get better quick. We’ve got two shows out of town and we don’t want everyone on the bus catching whatever you have.”
Right.
Two shows out of town that I completely forgot about.
Two nights I have to share the tour bus with all of MFB, including my husband, where I’ll be expected to share a bunk with him for the cameras.
We leave tomorrow for Sacramento, and then the next night MFB plays Oakland before we come back home. And next week is Christmas and I haven’t even started wrapping gifts and when the hell did life get so damn complicated?
The whole reason they’re taking the bus up is for filming purposes, and now I wish we could back out of it. In fact, I wish I could back out of a lot of things, not the least of which includes the fact that the guy I’ve been so busy falling for has been hiding his feelings for his ex.
“What’s going on?” Amber asks once we’re out on the sidewalk.
“Nothing,” I say. I glance around, and there aren’t any cameras by us. They’re focused on the men inside the bar. I point to my mic pack. “I’m just not feeling well.” I pull it out from under my shirt and switch the microphone to the off position.
And just as I’m about to confess that I caught my husband outside kissing Bree, I realize yet another complication in this situation.
Amber isn’t just the best friend I tell everything to. She’s also Adam’s sister.
Can I really tell her everything this time? She’s always known about my crush on her brother, but I haven’t been totally honest about the extent of my feelings for him—especially the more recent feelings I’ve been having where he’s concerned. And I’m sure she’d have opinions not just on that, but also on the fact that Adam was kissing Bree.
I should’ve just stuck to the plan—the contract—instead of allowing my feelings to get involved.
“So?” Amber asks once my mic is off.
“I just didn’t feel well. I think I got overheated maybe,” I say weakly.
She immediately sees through me, as any best friend should. “Tell me the truth.” Her tone is firm and unmoving, and I feel like I don’t have much of a choice.
I close my eyes briefly as we walk on toward the house I’m currently living in. It’s not home, exactly, and now it feels even less like home. With my eyes closed, though, all I can see is his mouth on hers, like somehow my memory zoomed in on the entire thing. “I saw Adam kissing Bree behind the bar,” I blurt.
She stops walking and gasps a little. “What?”
I shrug. “I know.”
“How did you...what did...I mean—what?”
I blow out a breath. “I saw him walking through the crowd toward me, and then I lost him. Someone said they saw him heading out back, so I went that way.” I pause, still not sure how much to reveal, but then I go for it. What do I have to lose at this point anyway? “I was just overwhelmed with these feelings for him and I had to tell him. And I might as well tell you, too. I’m in love with your brother. But it doesn’t matter because obviously he still has feelings for his ex or he wouldn’t have been kissing her behind the bar.”
Her jaw drops. “You’re—you’re...in love with him?”
I lift a shoulder. “Yeah.”
“I thought it was just some lifelong crush!” She’s gesturing wildly with her hands.
I tuck my hair behind my ear nervously as I make my big confession. “It started out that way, but since we got married...I don’t know. I fooled myself into believing we could have a real future together.”
“You mean since you got married a fucking week ago? It’s not like you’ve been married for years, Emily. You’ve been married for a week, by mistake, and suddenly it’s love?” She shakes her head. “Whatever. I don’t buy it. Love doesn’t develop in a week.”
To be honest, this isn’t exactly how I expected her to react given the fact that I just confessed I love her brother. But in typical Amber fashion, the response is brash and bold.
“You’re right. It doesn’t. It’s been developing since before I was a teenager, but I never had the chance to do anything real about it before. And now my shot was just pulled out from under me.”
She draws in a long, deep breath before exhaling, and then she tosses her arm around my should
er. “Oh, Em. I’m so sorry. I’ll talk to him.”
I shake my head and shrug her off of me. “No.” I’m the firm one this time. “Don’t say a word to him, Amber. I told you as my friend, not as his sister.”
Her hand goes to her chest in a little bit of shock as she shakes her head and comes to terms with my request. “Okay, then. You handle it.”
“That’s what I want.” I nod resolutely.
“Fine.”
“I’m changing the subject now. How are things going with Rascal?”
Her cheeks turn a little pink, which is something I rarely—if ever—see on her. “Good. Really good.”
I raise a brow. “Really good?”
“The sex is...” she trails off and lets out a little dreamy sigh. “Not like anything I would’ve ever expected out of someone like him.”
“What does that mean?”
“It’s just...” She pauses as she searches for the words—almost like she isn’t sure how much to reveal to me, just like I felt a few seconds ago, and then she tells me everything. “We have this totally random connection, you know? He’s not my type at all, yet at the same time he seems to be everything I’ve been searching for. He’s so hyper and immature and stupid and I’m the exact opposite and somehow we ground each other and it just works.”
“So this is an actual thing, then?”
She nods. “I think it’s an actual thing, then.”
I shake my head and giggle. “Crazy. Amber Rascowicz.”
She laughs. “Let’s not get crazy here.”
I shrug. Maybe I jumped the gun a little there, but impromptu weddings seem to be my thing.
“I’m totally keeping Wilson if I marry him someday,” she adds, and we both laugh at that.
“Can I stay with you tonight?” I ask. “I’m just not ready to face him yet. I don’t want to hear excuses and I need a night away from all this pretending.”
