Lost in You (Flirting with Forever Book 1)

by Amanda Bailey

  I shrug nonchalantly. “Yep, with Madison.”

  “Madison, Madison. The librarian from the high school who was here last night? The one who went to our high school? The one who dated your best friend after college?”

  “Yeah. Don’t tell me you didn’t have something to do with Sophia ‘reintroducing’ her to me last night.” I open and then slide a bottle of his favorite beer over to him.

  Heath takes a quick gulp and chuckles. “Hey, you’re the one who asked about her last week. All I did was mention something to Sophia about how you’d seen Madison around and wasn’t she in the book club? You know Sophia well enough to know she took matters into her own hands from there.”

  I roll my eyes to the ceiling. “Whatever. But yeah, we talked about this wedding she has to go to this weekend after you all took off.”

  Heath works his jaw back and forth. “Isn’t that going to be awkward as hell, considering what you know about Chase? Does she even know you all aren’t friends anymore?”

  My eyes meet his. “I’m not sure. I don’t know if she thinks we are or not. We’d started to drift apart naturally before they broke up. And then I found out what he’d done to mess up my relationship with Dana and that was definitely that. I don’t know what, if anything, Madison knows about that whole debacle.”

  Heath shakes his head and takes another sip of his beer. “Damn bro, that’s too much drama for me.”

  I snort at him. “Right. Like I haven’t witnessed you and Sophia have your share of ups and downs. Anyway, I think I’ve kind of subconsciously avoided being places I knew she’d be since then. I don’t even know how two people can live in the same town and not run into each other,” I grumble, setting down the paring knife and fruit I’d been working with before planting my hands on the counter and eyeing my brother. “My plan is to keep things simple. Wedding escort, dinner, dancing, cake.”

  “So, wait, is this an actual date or what? I’m losing track already.” The bastard stifles another laugh.

  “Technically, it’s a fake date.”

  “What exactly do you mean when you say fake?”

  “Listen, you aren’t to breathe a word of this to Sophia. Or anyone else. I don’t want Madison thinking I betrayed her trust.”

  “You know if Sophia asks, that I won’t lie to her about anything. I don’t even fib.”

  I roll my eyes again. “Fine. Just make sure Sophia is aware that it’s a sensitive situation.” I exhale slowly. “Apparently, Madison hasn’t dated anyone seriously since Chase and was upset thinking about going to yet another family function alone.”

  “So, you … what? Offered yourself up to be her boyfriend for the weekend?”

  “Well, yeah.” My brows draw together. “Pretty much. But she was straight up panicking this morning about the whole thing. She almost called it all off.”

  Heath snorts, shaking his head, his eyes alight with amusement. “Oh, man. Well, this should be interesting. And as for keeping things simple? Nothing like this is ever simple. In fact, very fucking complicated sounds more like what you’re about to do, man.”

  I put the fruit into containers and tuck them in the fridge, and then take another few seconds to give my hands a rinse. Heath takes another gulp of his beer while eyeing me like he knows I’ve gotten in over my head. Blowing out a quick breath, I rough a hand through my hair. “Yeah, well, I can’t back out now. I wouldn’t do that to her.”

  He smiles and toasts me with his bottle. “Of course you wouldn’t. Good luck with it. She should be here any minute, by the way. She said something to Sophia about grabbing her things from home and meeting you here.”

  “Man, you gossip as bad as Sophia these days.”

  “Eh, whatever. It’s easier to be completely transparent with each other. I told you we tell each other everything.” He laughs when I roll my eyes at him for a third time. “You ready?”

  I glance up at the clock on the wall. Yep. T-minus five minutes to fake boyfriend. “My bag is already in the truck.”

  Madison

  I hurry from my apartment down to the bar, wheeling a small carry-on suitcase behind me with an overnight bag thrown over my shoulder. I’m as ready as I’ll ever be, I guess.

  It’s twenty-five degrees outside and yet, I’m sweating. Awesome. This is a case of nerves unlike I’ve ever had before.

  It’s finally hitting me exactly what I’m going to have to do and be like with Shawn this weekend. Hopefully, we’ll pull the wool over everyone’s eyes. Give the illusion of being happily together in a long-standing, loving relationship.

  After talking to Sophia this morning, it dawned on me that this may be more difficult to pull off than I’d first assumed. Because as much as I keep saying to myself it’s no big deal and we’re just putting one over on my family so I don’t have to deal with the curious stares and the talking behind the hands that always happens at events like this, I’ve had kind of a hard time already. I’m wavering between confusion and all-out panic over just who Shawn is to me.

  First, I’ve had to shove thoughts of him being a cheater out of my head and try to focus on him as the guy who is trying to help me. For my purposes, it doesn’t matter what he’d done behind his girlfriend’s back.

  But second, this is someone who I’ve always found very attractive, and the more interaction I’ve had with him in the last twenty-four hours, the more I remember why I’d liked him. Which makes no freaking sense, knowing what I know about him. The bottom line is I’m terribly confused. My stomach has been full of anxious flutters which have only increased in intensity the closer I get to meeting up with him. How did I ever think I’d get through forty-eight plus hours of a wedding weekend in his presence?

  With a deep gulp of fortifying air, I pull open the door to the bar and roll my bag inside. Just as I set my things out of the way and look up, Shawn strides down the hallway from the back. Our eyes meet and … Someone help me. I think I’m going to pass out right here.

  He. Looks. Good.

  My gaze sweeps down over him quickly, then meanders its way back up. He’s got boots on his feet, jeans that fit his strong legs like they were made for him, and his narrow waist, broad chest, and muscular shoulders are half hidden under the coat he’s just pulled on. His hair is strategically rumpled, and his face … he’s so damn good-looking with his square chiseled jaw and defined cheekbones. His blue eyes twinkle as they shine brightly, waiting for me to finish my perusal.

  That wasn’t embarrassing at all. I guess if you are going to have a fake boyfriend for a weekend, it’s helpful if he’s attractive. Inwardly, I cringe at my thoughts, but I put a smile on my face in greeting. My voice comes out in a croak. “Ready to go?”

  “Yeah, I—oh wait, just a sec.” He holds up a finger before bolting back down the hallway and up the stairs at the end. When he comes down a few minutes later, he has his guitar in hand and a broad smile flashes across his ruggedly handsome face.

  I point up with my finger, glancing at the ceiling. “You live up there?”

  “Yeah. There’s an apartment up there. I thought you knew that.”

  “Nope. And you still play guitar.” I wince as I realize it’d come out as more of a statement than a question, considering he’s standing there holding one. At this point, I’m just saying anything to keep the conversation rolling and my mind off of where we are going and what we are doing.

  “Yep, I do. It helps me relax.” He chuckles. “I figure we may need it this weekend.”

  My lips twitch. He’s … thoughtful. “Fair enough. Are you ready to go?”

  “Sure am. My truck’s out back. Let’s do this.” He points at my bag. “Let me help you with that.” He hands me my smaller bag and pulls up the handle on the roller bag before he leads me out the back door into the biting cold air. He carefully loads his guitar—obviously, it’s his baby—onto the back seat and places my bag behind the passenger seat before slamming the door shut and turning to me, his arms outstretched. “Ready, girlfrien
d?” He hooks an arm around my shoulders and pulls me to him with a quick squeeze before he opens the passenger door for me.

  I can’t hide my semi-shocked expression from him, and he gets a funny look on his face. “What? Too soon?”

  “No, I—practice is good, I guess.” I give him a small smile before I reach for the handle, step on the running board, and pull myself into the cab of the huge truck. Once I’m seated, I set my bag on the floorboard and grab for the seat buckle, preparing to strap in. That’s when I realize he’s still standing there, just inside the open door.

  “I don’t want to make this weird for you. I’m sorry.” He grabs the back of his neck, pulling on it.

  “I’m fine, Shawn. You just surprised me, but we’re going to be together all weekend. I’m sure I’ll get used to you touching me.”

  Because that’s what had sent me reeling—that’s why I’m currently quaking in my running shoes—I haven’t had a man’s arm around me in a long, long time. It felt good. His strength, the size of him, his warmth, the way his scent is still swirling around my head, invading my senses. He smells like a mix of fresh citrus fruit and some sort of cologne. Everything about him feels good to me.

  While I’m recovering from the onslaught of what he’s stirring inside me, he circles to the other side, and climbs into the driver’s seat, setting his wallet, a charger, a pair of gloves, and a hat in the center console. I glance at the small pile. “You’re like a Boy Scout, huh?”

  Starting the truck, he pulls out of the parking space before responding to me with an easy grin. “Yep. Pretty much always prepared. Especially on a road trip.” He pulls onto the main road and heads out of town. “You said this place is near Kingston?”

  “Yeah.” I waggle my phone. “I have my GPS set with the address.”

  “Good. Then let’s get reacquainted, girlfriend.” He sends me a wink that I swear looks half-naughty.

  I suppose it’s a little late now to wonder again what I’ve gotten myself into, so here we go—me and my fake boyfriend—on a weekend-long road trip together.

  Chapter 5

  Madison

  We spend the first five minutes mostly in silence. I keep trying to sneak peeks at Shawn, but every time I do, he notices, and a tiny little smirk lifts one corner of his mouth. My face feels hot, and I’m definitely sweating again. I can’t even blame it on the truck’s heater either. It’s all about my proximity to Shawn and those wicked little looks he keeps giving me.

  After another couple of minutes, I motion to the radio. “Do you mind if I put on some music?”

  He shakes his head. “Not at all.”

  With a quick smile, I turn the radio on and flip through the stations until I find one that has some fairly new popular music on it. Before long, I’m humming along, unable to keep quiet. The next time I glance in Shawn’s direction he smiles big.

  “I remember how much you love music. Go ahead and sing along if you want.”

  Suddenly embarrassed, I bite my lip, the edges of my mouth curving into a smile. “Sorry.”

  “No need to be sorry about it. I love your voice. I remember that for sure.”

  I suck in a breath at the idea he’d paid any attention to me at all. “Okay … so, speaking of, tell me everything you remember about me. Maybe that’s where we start with this whole mess. We’ve got two hours to figure out how to act around each other and to prepare ourselves for questions people may ask.”

  “Right.” He holds out his hand. “Give me your hand.”

  My face screws up into a frown, and I look at him like he’s lost his mind because I think maybe he has. “What?”

  “If you’re my girlfriend, I’m definitely holding your hand this weekend. And do you really want that face you just made to be the one you show to your family when I take your hand in mine at this place?”

  I work my jaw. “You have a point.” I place my hand in his where it’s resting on the center console. It’s big and warm, his fingertips just a little rough—I assume from playing his guitar—and the overall sensation of having my hand in his just about knocks me over, so it’s a good thing I’m already sitting down.

  He squeezes my hand gently and gives me a sheepish smile. “See? Not so bad. This is going to be easy.”

  I draw in a stuttered breath. “Easy.”

  He chuckles. “Anyway, that’s my first real memory of you—all the way back in high school when you sang in the choir. Do you still sing?”

  I let the breath back out. “Um. In the shower? No, I’m kidding … but not. And I also sing a really wicked version of ‘Happy Birthday.’ That’s the extent of my singing these days.” I lift my shoulders and let them drop. “Oh, and along with the radio, but you already heard that.”

  Laughter rumbles from deep in his stomach. “I don’t remember you being funny.”

  I shrug and hold up my free hand. “I’m less uptight than I used to be, I guess.”

  He squeezes my hand in his. “I didn’t mean you were uptight. You just used to be a little quieter and more reserved, even when I saw you just a few years back. And that image of you fit the librarian you were about to become.” He runs his thumb over the back of my hand, sending shivers through me. “Doesn’t mean I don’t like your sense of humor. Tell me about that job. I remember when you got it you seemed really happy about it.”

  I’m trying really hard to make all the words he’s saying compute in my head, but the way his thumb lazily moves over the skin on the back of my hand is really damn distracting. I glance at his profile as he watches the road, and that turns out to be a bad idea, as now I’m wondering what it would feel like if I reached out and scratched my fingers through the stubble on his cheek. Oh my God, Madison, breathe. You can do this. It’s just small talk about work. Easy.

  “I love to read, I love kids, and I love helping people, so it’s a good fit for me. Especially since my career as a backup singer for Beyoncé never took off, you know?” I send him a teasing grin, which he returns before I look out the side window. “It’s not exactly what I envisioned doing for the rest of my life, but I’m happy enough with it for now.” I look back over at him. “What about this financial advisor stuff? That doesn’t seem quite like you either.”

  His hand grips the steering wheel a little more tightly than before. He side-eyes me before answering. “I did what I thought was sensible at the time. And …” he sucks in air through his teeth, “I admit it—I hate it. I’ve scaled way back with it and mostly just work at the bar now, with the exception of a few clients. It’s hard to think I wasted time and money going to school for a degree when I’m not going to use it.” He hesitates, glancing at me for a second. “It just hasn’t turned out to be what I want for myself.”

  “Hey, you never know, maybe we’ll reinvent ourselves at some point. A new reincarnation of you and me.” I swallow hard. That kind of sounded like I’d meant you and me together.

  He chuckles, “And would that make you a singing butterfly leaving the librarian cocoon?”

  I wrinkle my nose. “Maybe. We’ll see. Unlike your financial advisor gig, I do actually enjoy working at the school, so I’d be okay just having something on the side to enjoy. Something that’s just for me.” My heart beats fast as Shawn looks at me, his gaze meeting mine. Oh, man. Why does it feel like he’s seeing my every thought playing out in my eyes? Deep breaths.

  Relief pours through me when he focuses back on the road. “How about you tell me about this book club that you are in because it sounded like a whole lot of noise to me.” He shakes his head with a quick laugh. “Like it was all a clever, adult excuse for getting together for a little girl talk.”

  “I plead the fifth.” Oh my God, how much had he heard? I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to remember everything we’d discussed, not realizing that our words were being overheard. I blame it on his margaritas.

  He gets my attention with gentle pressure from his hand. “Not that I minded you all in there. It was interesting, especially the discu
ssion on penis size.” I can see his tongue tucked in his cheek from here.

  I press my lips together, trying not to laugh. A blush rises on my cheeks, and I just know they are bright pink like the color of cotton candy. I can’t hold it in, I burst out laughing and cover my mouth with my hand. “I—uh … Our conversations do tend to devolve pretty quickly sometimes.”

  He lets out a low whistle. “You can say that again. Because, damn. When I heard—I think it was Piper?—spell out C-O-C-K, I had to go into the back to hide from you all. I was just dying back there.”

  That’s all it takes for me to absolutely lose it. I choke with laughter as my chest heaves. Shawn lets go of my hand and pulls open a compartment in the center console, passing me a small bottle of water.

  “You are a Boy Scout, aren’t you?”

  “I’ll always be prepared for you, girlfriend.” He winks at me and my insides melt, all warm and gooey. I’m enjoying this conversation, we’re getting along just fine, and now I wonder—would he talk to me like this if he wasn’t studying up on me for our weekend? Is this all part of the fake boyfriend deal, or is he genuinely interested in the things he’s been asking me about?

  Chapter 6

  Shawn

  One time, way back in high school, I’d been seated close enough to Madison that when she turned her head, the scent of fresh raspberries and cream floated right over to me, and I’d had a fleeting thought to nuzzle my face in her hair. She’d never even looked my way—I was just a quiet guy with a guitar back then.

  That same fruity scent floats across the cab of the truck to me, invading my senses and driving me half-insane with lust. Only about an hour more of being trapped in here with her. She’s damned intoxicating.

  Fuck. I’m supposed to be her fake boyfriend, who most certainly isn’t supposed to be having these thoughts about my former best friend’s girl. Yet, she’s here and I’m here and my head is full of indecent thoughts of things I’d like to do with her, to her. The first of my Madison discoveries would be finding out if the scent of raspberries and cream is just in her hair or if she smells like that everywhere. I want to run my lips over her skin, use my tongue, taste every inch of her. Visions of her spread out on a bed assault me from all sides—that gloriously long, curly hair fanned out over a pillow; miles of perfect, pale, creamy skin; dangerous curves; the scent of her overwhelming me. I wouldn’t be able to do anything else at that point but claim her, drive myself into her tight, wet heat over and over until I’m enveloped by the madness. All I’d see, feel, and hear would be her. Because this girl? She’s so much more than I remember, and I can’t wait until I know every last piece of her.