Fake It With Me: A Friends to Lovers Romance

by Kate Hunt

  She snorts, then drums her fingers on her thigh. “Maybe it happened at the coffee shop. Maybe some guy came in and tried to rob the place, and—”

  “Seriously, Lydia?”

  The intersection light changes green and I make the turn. Lydia glances at her phone and tells me the next turn coming up.

  “Okay,” she says afterward. “How about this…I dragged you along with me to go shoe shopping. You indulged me, because you’re a good friend. And after three hours of dragging you around to different stores, you helped me find the perfect shoes and I realized you were the one.”

  My chest does something funny. “The one?”

  “I mean…the one I want to be with.”

  “Ah. Right.”

  “And when I admitted it to you…you realized you’d always wanted me, too.”

  I take the next turn. “Yeah. Let’s go with that.”

  “Cool,” says Lydia, and glances at her phone again. “In about four blocks, take another right.”

  Lydia’s sister’s wedding is held in an upscale venue overlooking the water. It’s pretty much what I expect from Lydia’s sister. I don’t know Hallie well, but a classy place like this is definitely in line with her personality.

  I park in the lot and Lydia and I get out of the car. Lydia smooths down the skirt of her dress as we walk up to the venue. As soon as we step inside, we’re enveloped in the noise and bustle of the event. There’s a pre-ceremony reception, apparently—drinks and fancy-looking hors d'oeuvres are being carried around the room by waiters. I swipe two of something that looks like shrimp and give one to Lydia.

  “Mmm,” she says, chewing and swallowing the bite. “Keep that waiter away from me, or I’ll eat the whole platter.”

  Within minutes of our arrival, Lydia’s parents find us. Lydia’s mom gives me a hug and I shake hands with her dad. Having been friends with Lydia for so long, I’ve known them a long time, too. It’s good to see them—although the realization that I’m going to be lying to them does make me feel a little guilty.

  “I didn’t realize you were coming with Lydia,” says her mom, smiling widely at me. “We just assumed Lydia would be coming alone.”

  “Actually, Mom, Dad,” says Lydia, sliding her hand into mine—a feeling that is both natural and strange—“Hunter and I are dating now.”

  “You are?” Both of her parents’ faces light up, and the guilt in my gut intensifies. “That’s wonderful, Lydia. How long as this been going on?”

  “A few weeks,” Lydia and I say in tandem.

  Her parents both laugh.

  “Well, that’s great,” says her dad, giving me a friendly slap on the shoulder.

  Lydia’s mom nods enthusiastically. “It really is. You know, I always had my suspicions about you two.”

  I feel Lydia’s hand stiffen in mine.

  “Mom,” says Lydia, her voice tight.

  But Lydia’s mom just smiles at the two of us, taking the sight of us in.

  “A handsome couple, indeed,” she says.

  Chapter Four

  Lydia

  My mom’s comment is embarrassing, to say the least.

  But I guess I should have expected something like that. My mom isn’t one to mince words. And I should probably just be grateful that she and my dad bought the fake relationship so easily.

  As soon as I’m able to, I pull Hunter away and we meld into the crowd. But we don’t make it far before an aunt of mine stops us and demands to be introduced to Hunter. After chatting with her for a few minutes, we only make it a little ways further before another relative does the same thing.

  Not that I expected anything different to happen.

  After the fourth or fifth encounter, I lean into Hunter’s ear—which is more accessible to me since I’m wearing heels for once—and ask him if he’s doing okay. I know this whole thing can’t be that enjoyable for the poor guy.

  “I’m fine,” he says. “You don’t have to worry about me, Lydia.”

  “I’m really going to owe you, aren’t I?” I say.

  “Oh, big time,” he says, grinning.

  Another relative of mine approaches us. But our conversation is cut short by a woman announcing that the ceremony is about to start. Everyone starts filing into an adjacent room, where rows of chairs are set up and a beautiful arrangement of flowers fills the front of the room. Hunter and I take seats a few rows from the front. As soon as everyone gets settled, my soon-to-be brother-in-law takes his place at the front of the room, looking full of both excitement and nerves.

  My sister looks absolutely stunning when she and my dad appear at the back of the room and start walking down the aisle. As soon as I see her, I immediately think back to the times when the two of us played ‘pretend wedding’ in our living room as kids.

  Since she was the older one, and also the one more obsessed with weddings, she would always play the bride—and I would play all the other parts, aside from the make-believe groom. I’d be the flower girl, the maid of honor, the officiant. I hated my sister bossing me around, but I also loved our game.

  Now, as she walks down the aisle, our eyes meet and she grins at me, and I’m so happy that she’s getting to have all of this for real.

  The ceremony is short and sweet. When my sister and her fiancé say their vows, I tear up. You can see how much they love each other, and it’s really touching.

  As the two of them start to walk back up the aisle and the rest of us stand up and hoot and cheer for them, I look over my shoulder at Hunter and say, “Wasn’t that sweet?”

  He nods. And it’s a genuine nod. There’s even a little dampness in his normally-steady eyes.

  “Whoa,” I say, a grin spreading across my lips. “You were actually moved by it, weren’t you?”

  “I never said I thought getting married was stupid,” he says. “I just don’t like weddings.”

  “You are going to dance with me later, though, right?” I ask.

  “Uh…no,” he says. “I’m not dancing. Sorry.”

  I groan. “What? Seriously? Hunter…”

  “I don’t dance. I’ll watch you dance, but…nope. That’s a hard no from me.”

  I’m about to tell him that I’m going to get him out on that dance floor later whether he likes it or not, but then I realize that everyone’s moving, so I just turn around and follow the crowd. We make our way into yet another area of the venue, where a seating chart is set up telling everyone where to sit.

  Hunter and I end up at a table with my parents, an aunt and uncle, and a cousin of mine. I quickly introduce Hunter as my boyfriend and hope the conversation doesn’t linger on our relationship.

  “Nice to meet you, Hunter,” says my cousin, who’s sitting on Hunter’s other side. On the other side of my cousin is an empty chair. “My wife was supposed to come, too, but her morning sickness—her ‘all-day sickness,’ as she likes to call it—got the best of her, and she decided to stay home.”

  “I didn’t realize she was pregnant,” I say, leaning forward to smile at my cousin. “Congrats.”

  My cousin smiles back and nods. “Yeah. Thanks. I feel bad for her, though. It’s been hard on her physically. I almost didn’t come tonight, because I felt so guilty leaving her. But she insisted I come.”

  “Well, we should toast to her,” I say, holding up my glass.

  My cousin laughs. He raises his glass and clinks mine. “I’ll tell her we did that. She’ll get a kick out of it.” He takes a sip, then splits a look between Hunter and me.

  “I know you two are just dating right now, but can I give you a piece of advice?”

  What am I supposed to do? Shake my head no?

  “Uh, sure,” I say, glancing at Hunter.

  “If you get married, and if you two want kids—don’t wait. Just do it. Because you never know how long it will take.”

  My cheeks burn with embarrassment. It was bad enough when my mom made that comment about us. But to have someone talking about our future kids…ugh. />
  “We’ll keep that in mind,” says Hunter, saving me from having to answer. Meanwhile, I desperately try to think of a way to change the subject. But the stupid topics of marriage and babies keep floating around in my head.

  “So what do you do, Hunter?” my aunt asks from the other side of the table.

  Relieved, I relax as Hunter starts to tell her about his work. The funny thing is, as I listen to him talk, I actually feel proud of him as if he really is my boyfriend.

  And I can’t help but think: Hunter really would be a good boyfriend, wouldn’t he?

  But why am I even thinking those kinds of thoughts? It’s probably being at a wedding that’s making me think that way. It’s all the romance surrounding us. It’s seeing my sister get married. It’s—

  “Hey, sis,” a happy voice says, and I look up to see Hallie standing behind me.

  “Hey,” I say, jumping out of my chair to give my sister a hug. “Congratulations. I can’t believe you’re married!”

  “Crazy, right?” says Hallie. She squeezes me again, then looks at Hunter. “Oh, hi, Hunter! You’re…here with Lydia?”

  “They’re dating now, Hallie,” my mom pipes up.

  My sister’s eyes widen. “You guys are?”

  “Yep,” I say quickly. “Oh, Hallie, you look beautiful. That dress fits you like a dream.”

  Thankfully, mentioning my sister’s dress is enough to nudge the conversation away from Hunter and myself. My sister grins and does a little spin, showing off the dress.

  “I was so worried when I went into my last fitting,” she says. “But it’s good, isn’t it?”

  “It’s perfect,” I say. “It’s how I always imagined it would be.”

  Chapter Five

  Hunter

  I’m just starting to think that maybe weddings aren’t all so terrible after all—this one has actually been pretty relaxed, and the food is surprisingly delicious—when the dancing starts. And then I remember all over again why I don’t like going to weddings.

  “You’re seriously not going to dance with me?” Lydia asks. Everyone else has gotten up from our table to go out to the dance floor—even her cousin, who’s here on his own.

  I shake my head. “Nope. I can’t dance. You should go out there, though. Have a blast.”

  “Hunterrrr.”

  “You’re not going to talk me into it.”

  Lydia looks out toward the dance floor with longing.

  “Come on,” she says. “One song. And then you can come back and be a grump.”

  “Why is it so important to you that I dance?” I grumble.

  “It’s part of us keeping up appearances. What boyfriend doesn’t indulge her girlfriend with one freakin’ dance?”

  I feel myself crumbling.

  “Please?” says Lydia.

  “Fine,” I say. “One dance.”

  “One dance,” she agrees, excitement glittering in her eyes.

  Grunting, I stand up and hold out my hand. If I’m going to do this, I may as well do it right. Lydia grins and slides her hand into mine. We’ve held hands so many times in the last few hours that it’s starting to feel second nature.

  The dance floor is packed. And I’m pretty damn tempted to just stand at the edge of the crowd and give Lydia her one dance on the fringes of all the activity. But I don’t. I do what I know she wants me to do—I pull her into the middle of the dance floor.

  “One song,” I remind her, as I let go of her hand and turn to face her.

  She smiles and nods. The beat of the song that’s just started surrounds us. We start to move together on the dance floor. God, I really hate dancing. It’s so not my thing.

  I suck it up, though. I move my feet. I let the beat of the song guide my feet and arms and body. Meanwhile, Lydia is having a blast, singing along to the damn lyrics.

  “I love this song,” she says, leaning close to my ear. “Don’t you?”

  “Yeah,” I mutter. “Of course.”

  Okay. Fine. It’s not that terrible. And maybe I’m just being grumpy about it because I’ve established myself as the guy who hates weddings. As the song comes to an end, Lydia looks at me with begging eyes.

  “One more,” she says. “Come on. Aren’t you having fun?”

  I hesitate.

  “You’re going to owe me so much,” I warn her.

  “I don’t care,” she says. Then she shrugs and does a dance move that’s both ridiculous and a little bit sexy.

  Shit. Did I just say sexy? No. Sexy and Lydia don’t mix. We’re friends. I shouldn’t have thoughts like that.

  It’s hard to ignore how pretty she looks tonight, though. That dress, her hair, her dark red lips …there’s a glow about her that she doesn’t normally have.

  Or maybe she always has that glow and I’ve just been ignoring it this whole time.

  I don’t know. These thoughts I’m having…they’re just stupid, random thoughts. They don’t mean anything. This is what happens at weddings, right? People get all romantic. They think things they wouldn’t normally think, do things they wouldn’t normally do…

  The upbeat song we’ve been dancing to fades into a slower one, and the mood instantly shifts around us.

  Lydia and I look at each other, unsure of what to do. I didn’t agree to slow-dancing when I brought her out to the dance floor. And the thought of holding her close to me…I don’t know about that.

  On the other hand, the two of us leaving the dance floor right now is going to look pretty shitty.

  I sigh and step forward, wrapping my arms around Lydia’s waist.

  “Whatever, we’re here,” I mumble into her ear.

  She nods, then lifts her arms up and places them around my shoulders.

  And, slowly, we begin to sway.

  We don’t talk as we slow dance. We just move, our arms slung loosely around each other’s bodies. I’ve never held Lydia like this. Honestly, I thought it would feel more awkward than it does. But with my hands on the curve of her hips…shit. She feels good.

  Without really thinking about it, as we continue to move, I pull her a little closer to me. Lydia doesn’t pull back, but she does angle up her head to look at me. Amused curiosity floods her face.

  “What are you doing?” she says quietly.

  “Nothing,” I say.

  “What do you mean, nothing? You just pulled me closer.”

  I shrug. “You were too far away.”

  “Uh…okay,” she laughs. But then she looks at me and our gaze holds. She swallows. She blinks at me.

  And without even thinking about it, I dip my head down and press my lips to hers.

  I can feel her surprise as I kiss her. But a second later, she’s kissing me back. We turn half a circle, still kissing, and it’s like everything in our lives has lead up to this moment.

  And we would keep kissing, except I bump into someone. I pull my lips away from Lydia and shoot a look over my shoulder.

  “Sorry,” I say. The couple we just bumped into give Lydia and I knowing smiles.

  When my eyes move back to meet Lydia’s, she’s looking at me in a way she’s never looked at me before.

  “You kissed me,” she says, astonished.

  “I did?” I say, feigning ignorance.

  She laughs. But then her eyes go serious.

  “Do it again,” she says.

  Chapter Six

  Lydia

  We kiss for the rest of the song.

  And I’m sure we’re getting looks. I’m sure that my mom is joyful beyond belief at my public display of affection with Hunter. But right now, I don’t care. I don’t care about anything except for kissing Hunter.

  Have we really liked each other this whole time? Has this always been there? I can hardly think straight enough to come up with answers to all the questions swirling around in my head.

  When the slow song ends, everyone around us immediately begins dancing more energetically again to the beat, but Hunter and I just stand there, our arms stil
l around each other, looking each other in the eye.

  And we don’t have to say anything.

  The look we share is undeniable.

  We both want the same thing.

  Hunter takes me by the hand and we weave our way out of the crowd. We make our way around the tables, then slip out of the room. A few hotel employees eye us suspiciously as we walk past them, but nobody says anything to us.

  We go back into the room where the wedding ceremony was held. I see Hunter eye the front of the room, but then he laughs and shakes his head. I know what he’s thinking: we need somewhere more private. With my hand still in his, he leads me through a door.

  Perfect. The groom’s suite.

  Hunter locks the door and immediately pins me up against the wall. I’m aching for him so much. My whole body feels like it’s on fire. And now, in private, our kisses are far less restrained. His tongue enters my mouth and I melt against him.

  I drop my hand to his fly. His hard-on strains against his slacks, pushing urgently against my hand.

  Oh, God. I need him in me.

  Now.

  I slide my lips away from his to mutter, “I’m on the pill.”

  Hunter lets out a guttural sound and reaches his hands up my dress. He slides off my panties and I unzip his fly. As he resumes kissing me, I reach in to pull out his cock, and I feel a little light-headed at how big he is. At how heavy his cock feels in my hand.

  Hunter grabs me and lifts me up—oh, God, is he strong—and I wrap my legs around his waist. He slides his hands under my ass and gives my cheeks a squeeze.

  “You’re so beautiful, Lydia,” he whispers between kisses.

  My breath hitches as Hunter pushes his cock into me. Oh, fuck, does he feel good. He fills me up more than I’ve ever been filled up before. As he draws out and thrusts into me again, I bury my face into his shoulder and moan. The scent of his aftershave fills my nose, and I already feel delirious with pleasure. Each thrust is better than the last. Each thrust makes me wetter and wetter.