Nerdy: A Fake Relationship/ Surprise Pregnancy Romantic Comedy (Unexpected Lovers Book 2)

by JB Heller

  “See what?” Sebastian asks, striding back into the lounge area with a plate of crackers, cheese, and a sliced apple. He places it at a tiny table beside the couch, and Everly climbs off the couch and takes a seat at it then starts picking at the food.

  “We were just talking about Everly’s birthday plans,” I say as he comes to sit in front of me.

  He nods. “Yeah, she’s got it all worked out already, even though it’s still three months away. She started planning it when her momma started planning her wedding. She’s got a little book and everything,” he says, smiling fondly at his niece.

  “Cool, cool, cool,” I mutter, unsure of what else to say. It feels a little weird to dive right into my interview questions now that I’ve seen him being all normal and shit. He’s become a person to me, not just an author. And besides, it’s not like I can ask him anything about the sexy fun times in his book with a four-year-old hanging around.

  Sebastian runs his hands through his hair and says, “So, that brings me to this favor…”

  I arch a brow. “What brings you to the favor? Everly’s birthday party?”

  He shakes his head. “No, my sister’s wedding.”

  “Oh, okay,” I say. “What about her wedding exactly?”

  “I’d like you to be my date. And it would be really great if you could pretend you’re madly in love with me and we’re an actual serious item,” he says.

  I blink at him several times as I absorb his words. “And the purpose of this would be?”

  “It’s a two-birds-with-one-stone situation.” He holds up his index finger. “It would get my sister off my back about getting into the dating game again,” he says. Then a second finger pops up to join the first before he continues. “And I can rub you in my ex’s face.”

  Nodding, I tap my chin. “That’s some pretty solid reasoning. I can see the appeal of both those things. I just have a couple of questions first.”

  He grins and snorts. “Of course you do. Fire away.”

  I shuffle forward to the edge of the coffee table I’m sitting on and bend forward, resting my elbows on my knees then knotting my fingers between them. “How long have you and your ex been broken up?”

  “Over six months,” he says.

  My gaze rakes over his face. “Do you want her back?”

  He shakes his head. “Nope.”

  I believe him. There wasn’t an ounce of hesitation in his answer, but I keep prodding. “Did you love her?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you still?”

  “Nope,” he says. And he’s examining me as closely as I’m examining him now.

  I ask my final question. “So why do you feel the need to rub another woman in her face if you no longer have feelings for her?”

  Sebastian tilts his head then runs a hand through his hair again. “Honestly, I’m pissed at her,” he says. “We were together for a long time, and I’m angry that she left the way she did. I still haven’t told my sister the true reason Jayla and I broke up because it would kill her and ruin their friendship.”

  I frown. I know why they broke up. And it’s a really shitty reason. “If I were your sister, I’d want to know the kind of person she really is. I think your sister deserves to know the truth behind your breakup. It should be her decision if she keeps your ex in her life or not.”

  He grimaces and laces his hands between his knees. “I’ve been going back and forth on whether I should tell her or not. The problem is, we’ve all been friends since high school. Jayla and I met because of Storm; they were best friends. I don’t want to be the person who ends that.”

  “You wouldn’t be,” I tell him, placing my hand over his. “I’ve been in this house with you and your nieces for less than an hour, and I can see how much they mean to you. How important they are to you. How passionate you are about them. I could never imagine asking you to give up the relationship you have with them—not for anything.”

  His eyes shine with something I can’t name, but it makes me feel things. Intense, heart-clenching things.

  “Thank you,” he breathes. And it’s only then that I realize how close we are to each other.

  We’ve moved to the edge of our seats, and I didn’t even know it. I swallow—hard.

  “I’ll think about telling Storm,” Sebastian says.

  “Good,” I murmur. Our eyes are locked, and my chest rises and falls in rapid succession as my breathing picks up pace.

  “I’m finished!” Everly yells right in our faces.

  We turn our heads, and she’s standing right there. A huge grin is on her little face, and an empty plate is in her hands.

  Slowly, Sebastian and I move away from each other.

  Sebastian scruffs up Everly’s hair, and she scowls at him. “Go put your plate in the sink, princess, and I’ll get your coloring stuff out.”

  She skips off to do as he said. And I’m once again hit with a bunch of feelings I’m not sure what to do with when he stands and retrieves a unicorn coloring book and some pencils. He sets them up at the little table, drags out a tiny chair, then sits in it.

  He looks ridiculous sitting there, but at the same time, it’s so freaking cute. I can’t even.

  Emory and I have been texting back and forth for the last nine days since she came to the house. Sometimes we discuss Drown with Me, and other times, we just shoot the shit. But things haven’t gotten overly sexual again, and I’m not sure how I feel about that.

  I definitely made the right call asking her to come to the wedding with me. I have zero doubts about that. But the more we talk, the more I’m thinking I’d prefer for it to be an actual date and not a fake arrangement.

  She’s a bit of a train wreck, but she’s also funny, smart, and insanely pretty. She’s the complete opposite of Jayla, who is put-together, sleek, sophisticated, and super high-maintenance. Emory feels like a go-with-the-flow kind of chick. She’s a breath of fresh air.

  Storm drops down on the couch beside me and props her feet up on the coffee table. “This day dragged on forever,” she moans.

  I roll my head on the back of the seat to face her. “You do look extra exhausted today.”

  “I work with a bunch of misogynistic pigs. It’s like they don’t think I’m capable of handling the job they hired me for. I spent a good chunk of my life learning everything there is to know about astronautical propulsion systems and the science behind them, yet they still doubt my abilities. Even after I graduated at the top of my class and—”

  “Breathe, Storm,” I say, cutting off her rant. “I know better than anyone how hard you’ve worked to get where you are.”

  My frustrated twin closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. “Sorry, I know you do, Bash.” She sighs heavily then drops her head to rest on my shoulder. “I wish they’d just let me do my damn job without hovering all the freaking time.”

  Resting my cheek on top of her head, I take her hand in mine and give it a squeeze. “I know.”

  “So,” she says, “enough about my shitty day. Have you found yourself a plus-one yet? I already gave the caterer the numbers, and I included your date, so you better have one.”

  “I have, actually. I’m bringing Emory,” I tell her.

  Storm jolts upright, a huge smile splitting her face. “Really? The chick writing the article about Drown with Me?”

  I nod. “The one and the same.”

  “I knew she was into you,” she says, beaming. “When did you guys start dating? The wedding can’t be your first date. You know that, right?”

  Running my hands through my hair, I shrug. “We’re kind of just talking at the moment. I like her. She’s a fucking disaster, but she’s funny and cute.”

  Storm arches an unimpressed eyebrow. “Just talking? What does that even mean, Bash? Have you asked her to be your plus-one?”

  I roll my eyes. “Yes, I asked her. And talking means talking. We text,” I say, shrugging. I sound pathetic even to my own ears right now.

  “You text? W
hat are you, teenagers? You’re a twenty-five-year-old man, and you’re texting the woman you like instead of going on dates with her because…”

  I clear my throat and lay my conundrum out for my sister. “Okay, so, when I asked her to come with me, it was kinda, partly, sort of…to get you off my back. Not as a date, per se. And since then, the heat level of our conversations has seriously diminished, leading me to believe she’s not into me the way I could possibly be into her, given the chance.”

  Instead of offering some sage and, honestly, probably much-needed advice, my twin throws her head back and laughs at me. Like, full-on belly laughs.

  Crossing my arms over my chest, I glare at her. “Are you done?”

  She snorts and shakes her head, dropping her feet from the coffee table to the floor. “You’re such an idiot.”

  “I was hoping for something a little more insightful,” I deadpan.

  “I saw your text thread the other week. I’m sure you can figure out how to get back there,” she says.

  I furrow my brows at her. “That’s it? That’s all you’ve got for me? After everything I’ve done for you, you won’t even help me out here? What the hell, Storm?”

  Again, she simply laughs, then she gets to her feet and pats the top of my head. “I feel so much better. Thanks, Bash,” she says before dropping a kiss to my forehead and wandering out of the living room.

  Well, shit. Looks like I’m on my own.

  Later that night, I’m lying in bed, my cell in my hands as I try to figure out what to say to bring the heat back into my conversation with Emory, when a text appears on the screen.

  EMORY: When exactly is your sister’s wedding? You said it’s in a couple of weeks…

  SEBASTIAN: The 19th. It’s a Sunday. Weird, I know, but they’re having, like, a “wedding weekend” kinda thing.

  And just like that, I get another brilliant idea. My lips curve in a grin as I type out another text.

  SEBASTIAN: Actually, there’s a stack of pre-wedding activities that I’m going to need you to attend with me. To solidify our fake relationship.

  EMORY: Is that so? And you’re only mentioning this now because?

  Hmm, I honestly don’t know why I didn’t think of this before. Probably because I hadn’t really thought this plan out thoroughly. But now it’s really taking shape, and I’ve got a clear path in mind.

  SEBASTIAN: My bad. I totally forgot about all the other stuff. But if we’re really going to sell this ruse of ours, we have to be there for all of it.

  Storm and Jake have almost a full week’s worth of gatherings prior to their big day. I was going to most of them and taking some time off mannying since there’ll be plenty of family around to take care of the girls. But now, I have a better idea…

  EMORY: Okay, I’ll block out that whole weekend. I’m no actress, but I’m sure I can manage two days.

  My smile grows. Oh no, Miss Moss. I’m going to need much more than just a weekend.

  SEBASTIAN: Yeah, I’m going to need you for the full week. The first luncheon is on Tuesday, but I’m picking Jacob’s parents up from the airport on Monday night, and I think you should be there with me.

  Her response comes through even quicker than usual.

  EMORY: Seriously?

  EMORY: A whole week? Who are you people? The Kennedys?

  SEBASTIAN: No, but Jacob’s family are all flying in for this. He’s an only child, and his family is… eccentric.

  EMORY: What’s that got to do with anything? My family isn’t exactly a bunch of average Joes either, but a whole week of wedding activities seems a little extreme.

  It is. I can’t dispute that. Jacob comes from old southern money. It took Storm years to be okay with spending it, but she’s finally come around and planned a wedding the Beaugard family will love. But more importantly, Storm will love it too.

  SEBASTIAN: Agreed. But Storm deserves this. She deserves every happiness in the world after everything she’s been through.

  EMORY: I love the way you love your family. Tell me more about them.

  SEBASTIAN: How about you meet me for coffee tomorrow, and I’ll tell you everything you want to know?

  EMORY: I am not getting up with the sun again. Hard pass.

  I laugh, finding her disdain for mornings very entertaining.

  SEBASTIAN: What if I promise to make it worth your while?

  EMORY: You’re going to give me an orgasm in a coffee shop? Wow, didn’t pick you for an exhibitionist.

  This time, I actually snort I’m laughing so hard. My thumb flies over my cell screen as I respond.

  SEBASTIAN: Not exactly what I had in mind, but I could make it work.

  EMORY: Oh, really? I’m intrigued.

  SEBASTIAN: Enough to meet me in the morning?

  EMORY: Maybe…

  My dick has started taking notice of our conversation, and his interest is definitely piqued.

  SEBASTIAN: Just tell me what to do to seal the deal, and I’ll make it happen.

  EMORY: You really want to see me in all my morning glory again? I thought you would have been scarred from the first two times.

  SEBASTIAN: I dig the hot-mess look.

  EMORY: Good to know. It just so happens to be my go-to. Lucky for you *wink*

  I chuckle, and it feels good. I’ve been in such a bitter mood since things with Jayla went to shit that I haven’t laughed much outside of my time with the girls. They never fail to lighten my day, and apparently, now Emory has that ability too.

  Before I can respond, another text comes through.

  EMORY: Back to a serious topic for a moment. What kind of activities am I expected to attend, and what the hell am I going to wear? You get that my wardrobe consists of snarky tees and yoga pants, right?

  SEBASTIAN: I am aware. What are you wearing?

  EMORY: Like, right now?

  SEBASTIAN: Yeah.

  EMORY: Umm, a tee that says, “I can’t adult today,” my underwear, and knee-high fuzzy socks. Why? What are you wearing right now?

  Oh fuck, that’s hot. Blood pumps south at the image forming in my head.

  SEBASTIAN: Seriously? With the socks? That’s like my kryptonite right there. I’m lying back in my bed in my boxers.

  EMORY: Socks really do it for you, huh? Interesting...

  SEBASTIAN: Why’s that interesting? Knee-high socks are hot as fuck. Will you show me?

  My dick throbs in my boxers, and I reach down to stroke it, just once.

  EMORY: *image attached*

  Oh. My. Holy. Fuck.

  I’m about swallow my tongue at the picture filling the screen. Emory’s legs, one knee hooked over the other, and fuzzy black socks that stop just below the bend. Her skin is freaking flawless with a light smattering of freckles blanketing her thighs, and goddamn but I want to lick them.

  My skin flushes hot with arousal. The direction of this conversation has definitely turned, and I really like it.

  SEBASTIAN: Fuck.

  SEBASTIAN: Double fuck.

  SEBASTIAN: Do you have any idea how sexy you are?

  My lips curve in a smile. His response makes me feel sexy. Who would have thought a simple interview would end up here?

  EMORY: You think so, huh? Why don’t you show me how sexy you think I am…

  I hold my breath, then a photo appears. Sebastian’s navy-blue boxers are tented with a freaking massive erection, and his fist circles it. Wow. I clench my thighs, the sight making me pulse with need.

  EMORY: You really do like my socks. I’ll be sure to store that tidbit of information away, along with this picture.

  SEBASTIAN: It’s not just the socks that are making things hard for me…

  EMORY: Do tell.

  SEBASTIAN: Everything about you speaks directly to my dick, Emory. If you were here… fuck, if you were here, I’d show you just how much I like everything about you.

  EMORY: But I’m not. So, show me this way instead. Or tell me. Or both…

  Goodness, I’m bei
ng ballsy tonight. But I can’t help it. My body is thrumming with need. The tension between us has been slowly building almost since we met, and I don’t care anymore—I want him.

  My cell rings, and I jump. I swipe my finger over the screen, accepting the video call.

  “Hey,” I breathe as Sebastian’s handsome face fills the screen.

  His lusty gaze rakes over my face, then his gravelly voice fills my ears. “I’ll show you mine, if you show me yours.”

  I swallow and blush from head to toe. “I’ve never… umm, done this before.”

  “Me either,” he says, then he runs his tongue over his bottom lip followed by his teeth. “But I’m so fucking hard for you, Miss Moss, and you did suggest show and tell.”

  He smirks, and my breath catches in my throat. Biting the corner of my lip, I nod. “That I did,” I mumble as the pulse between my thighs intensifies. “So, how do we do this?”

  Sebastian’s grin is absolutely sinful. “Prop your cell on a pillow beside you or on your nightstand. Make sure I can see all of you, though,” he instructs.