Think fast, Madison. What is the lie closest to the truth? “Oh, um—”
“We weren’t sure I could make it until last night.” Shawn smiles sheepishly at her, coming to my rescue.
Dad nods, eyeing both of us. “How did you two meet?”
I do a terrible job of hiding the shuddering breath I let out through pursed lips. “Through some friends I work with.”
The whole time all of this has been happening, I’ve been shaking like an absolute leaf at his side. Is it the cold we just came in from? Hearing him talk to my parents like it’s no big deal? Maybe a bit of both. Whatever it is, I can’t seem to get it under control, and I know Shawn can feel it from the pressure of his hand at my waist.
“We’re a little tired, so we are just going to kick back with some TV or something and try to get some rest.” Shawn looks down at me. “Didn’t you say something about wanting to relax and watch some Friends reruns, Madi?”
James speaks up. “She’s a Friends nut. It’s ridiculous, man. I assume you’ve been dating long enough to know that?” He watches Shawn carefully.
“For sure. It’s always a toss-up between that and one of those singing competition shows, if there are any on.”
My brother knows this to be true, so a small smile spreads across his face. How Shawn knew that I love to watch any of that stuff must have been a lucky guess.
I finally clear my throat, feeling like I should say something else. “I’m really exhausted from the last day of school and the drive up. We’ll see you guys before the wedding, okay?” I cringe, knowing I purposefully didn’t say how far before the wedding we’d see them. The less interaction the better, as far as I’m concerned.
With that, we head up to our room. Shawn keeps his arm around me the whole way, and the tremors running through my body have yet to abate.
He lets us in and helps me out of my coat before seeing to himself. After hanging them on the hooks behind the door, he crosses the room until he’s right in front of me. The air between us crackles with energy. His nearness does nothing to halt the trembling in my body, and I wrap my arms around my middle, trying to get it to stop, but it doesn’t seem to help.
Stepping even closer to me, he reaches out and grasps my upper arms with his steady hands and leans in until we are nose to nose. “What are we going to do with you, Butterfly?”
Awareness spins between us as we stand in each other’s space, breathing in each other’s air. In a blink, I suddenly find myself hauled against his hard chest. He holds me, arms strong and unyielding. At the top of my head, I feel his lips in my hair. Those lips. That’s what started this whole mess in my head at dinner.
And did I imagine it, or has he given me a nickname? The only nickname anyone has ever used for me before is Madi. It’s like he finds endless ways to set me off balance, and it comes so naturally to him he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it.
I revel in the feel of his arms around me and the gentle caress of his hands as they move over my back in an effort to comfort me.
With a shake of my head, I mumble against his chest without daring to look up into his eyes. “I don’t know. I was so nervous about what they were going to say. I didn’t tell anyone you were coming with me, except, of course, my cousin because he needed to know, but oh my God, I think I just surprised the hell out of them, and I don’t know what exactly they thought of it, and holy shit, I’m a rambling mess. I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry. And here you were, so nice to me, and so good with my family, and I’m just one huge disaster.” My chest heaves, and I wrench out of his arms, putting a hand over my mouth, horrified at everything that’s spilled out of it. “I’m sorry.”
“Madison,” Shawn growls, “would you please stop apologizing? It’s okay if you are nervous. It’s not like we thought this would be a walk in the park. I figured it would get a little interesting.”
“I-I don’t know. I think maybe this weekend I’ve helped myself to a huge serving of weddings make me crazy, with a steaming side of family obligations are the worst?” I try to smile, posing that last bit as a question, but my lips wobble and my face falls. And I can’t even tell him that the other part of it is him and the way he’d just swooped in and taken care of things when I couldn’t handle it.
He works his jaw back and forth. “Okay.” He eyes me carefully. “So, why don’t we do exactly what we told them we were going to do?”
My mind goes blank. “What was that again?” My eyes shoot straight to the bed.
He takes my upper arms in his hands again, ducking his head down to my level. “Friends. We’ll watch some good old Ross and Rachel. My favorite episode is the one where they get married in Vegas.”
A sharp, watery laugh bubbles out of me. “That was a good one. They were so drunk they did some super dumb stuff.”
He nods. “Right. So, you go get ready for bed, and I’ll find reruns. Or I’ll pull up episodes on my phone to stream. Something. I’ll figure it out.” He leans in, brushing my cheek with his lips and, little does he know, sends a smooth river of want flowing right through me.
Crap. In and out. In and out. Deep breaths. He can’t realize what he’s doing to me. I back away from him and turn to the dresser, grabbing my sleep shorts and an old T-shirt before I scurry into the bathroom and away from his prying eyes.
I take several minutes to myself, washing the makeup from my face, brushing my teeth, and changing into my pajamas. I hadn’t really thought about this part—the hours we’d spend in the same room sleeping. This won’t be awkward at all.
Does he snore? I cringe.
Oh my God, do I? I cringe harder.
Does he like to sleep in a warm room or a cooler one?
Blankets on or off?
One pillow or two?
My eyes bug out. What does he sleep in?
I flap my hand in front of my face in an effort to cool myself down. Okay, going through everything like this in my head is not helping, especially not the part about what he’ll wear to sleep in. And the unknown of this whole situation is just scary because of that—it’s unknown. So. Good pep talk, Madison. You’ve just freaked yourself out even more.
I open the door to the bathroom, expecting to find Shawn still in his jeans and shirt from earlier, but he’s not. Oh no, he’s not. While I was otherwise occupied, he’d gone ahead and changed, too—into a pair of pajama bottoms and … that’s it. Just pajama bottoms. He’s lying back on the pillows on the bed, all kinds of smooth skin and muscular torso greeting my eyes, his bare feet are crossed at the ankle as he watches the TV. The episode has him so engrossed he doesn’t even glance my way, so I take a few seconds to study him further.
He chuckles at something onscreen and that simple act has my eyes glued to his abs where his muscles move with his laughter, taunting me as they flex and ripple. Oh, how I want to walk over there and just run my fingers over all the ridges of his washboard stomach. It’s so incredibly unfair that he looks this good.
A quick glance at what he’s focused on tells me that he did, indeed, find Friends for me. At least I’ll have some sort of a distraction from his ridiculously perfect torso.
With a big gulp of air, I step out of the bathroom, and his head swivels toward me. His mouth parts, and he scrambles to sit up. “Sorry. I just—well, there’s really nowhere to sit in here.”
“Stay. We’re just watching TV, right? That’s what you said. There’s room.” No problem. We’ll just sit on that teeny, tiny, little bed together. I walk over to the small closet in the corner and find a couple of extra pillows. I try to focus on what I’m doing as I approach the bed—not his hard pecs or strong shoulders or bulging arms—and arrange the extra pillows on the side that’s free.
I use the term “side” loosely. I don’t think this bed is more than five feet across—somewhere between what a twin and a double should be—and Shawn takes up almost two-thirds of it. I see why, though. The bed frame is obviously an antique and not sized like modern furniture. It’s gorg
eous but man, what a surprise to unsuspecting travelers. Come to think of it, maybe that’s why I was put in this room in the first place. They thought I’d be coming alone until the very last minute.
Solo.
Party of one.
Lonely girl.
Well, I guess I showed them, but now the laugh is on me. While I fluff the pillows, Shawn rises from the bed and crosses to the bathroom. When the door shuts behind him, my whole being sags down onto the mattress. Holy. Crap. Again—what have I gotten myself into? All of a sudden, this feels like a very adult slumber party, and I’m not so sure I can handle it.
As soon as I grab my phone, which I haven’t checked all afternoon, I see a group text that was started a few hours ago. When I open it, I’m greeted with the many antics of my girlfriends.
Sophia: Hey, girl. Just checking in to make sure you and Romeo got there okay.
Quinn: Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou, Romeo?
Piper: We all saw that coming, right?
Hadleigh: Who’s coming? Was it good?
Oh my God, Hadleigh. I stifle a laugh, glancing up at the bathroom door. Still shut. Okay, continuing right along …
Piper: And we saw that one coming, too.
Zoey: Wait, wait, I need to catch up. What did I miss? Who is Romeo?
Hadleigh: Shawn.
Sophia: Well, I have to admit, he does look a bit like his brother.
Quinn: *groan*
Piper: You all do realize Romeo and Juliet died at the end of that story, right?
Quinn: Well, shoot.
I decide to put them out of their misery. I tap out a quick message to them, knowing this will likely set off another chain of messages.
Me: Hey, chicas. Yes, we’re here. We were at dinner.
Me: We’ve just been busy getting reacquainted.
Sophia: Good for you. How’s it going? *wink wink*
Me: It’s going. You all understand this is fake, right?
Hadleigh: You’re faking it? Oh girl, you should never do that.
Piper: She means the relationship is fake.
Piper: Do you think you can pull it off?
Quinn: How’s Shawn handling it?
Hadleigh: Right, well, I don’t think I’d find it hard to pretend to be into Shawn.
Zoey: She’s doing what?? I’m lost again.
Zoey: These group messages are so confusing.
Me: Shawn is pretending to be in a relationship with me at this wedding.
Me: So people stop asking why I’m single.
Me: And he’s handling it better than I am at the moment.
Zoey: Ooh.
Sophia: Is that really all that’s going on?
The toilet flushes and water runs at the sink. I’m pretty sure Shawn is on his way back out, so I hurry to finish.
Me: Maybe. I don’t know. That’s part of the problem.
Me: Gotta go. You all can keep gabbing if you want. I’ll catch up later.
I set my phone on the bedside table, facedown. Shawn definitely doesn’t need to see any of that. Odds are good that they will keep talking, and the messages will keep flashing on my screen, especially after my last comment.
I’ve just slid under the covers on my designated side of the bed when the door opens, and Shawn comes out. Another episode of Friends has just started, and Shawn goes from standing still to playing air guitar to the theme music in no time flat.
He’s so into it I try not to laugh, but it’s so adorable I can’t help myself. I cover my mouth while I look on at him wildly strumming and moving fingers on the strings of his air guitar. I’m glad an actual guitar isn’t hiding his body, because I’m rather enjoying the view as he really gets into it, my eyes roving over him. As he gets closer and closer to the bed, the temperature in the room seems to rise, and I can’t help watching every little move he makes. His pajama bottoms are slung way low, treating me to a decadent view of the V-shaped ridges of muscle that dip down below his waistband. I don’t ever recall being this close to a man who looks anywhere near like this. He’s close to god-like. A guitar god. My fingers itch to reach out and touch all that taut, smooth skin, find out what it would be like to have the hard planes of his body pressed up against the softness of mine.
I’d like to lick him. Yes, I would. I’d run my tongue—
“Madison?”
I blink and Shawn’s at the edge of the bed, looking down at me, his brow furrowed. Oh my God. Way to get a little carried away. I only hope what I was thinking isn’t indelibly written all over my face.
“You okay? It was like you thought I was funny and then not so much. Did I do something wrong?”
With a quick shake of my head, my response bursts from me. “No, no. My mind is just running amok an awful lot lately.”
His head tips to the side, intense blue eyes studying me. “Okay, Butterfly. Just don’t fly too far away from me just yet. I don’t think I can handle making it through this wedding tomorrow without you.”
He climbs into the bed next to me, adjusting himself against the pillows. I look over at him, pressing my lips together. “Me neither, Shawn.” I find my lip between my teeth again as I watch him get settled. “I don’t think I’d be able to get through it without you either, I mean. Thank you again for coming with me—for helping me through this.”
“Well, don’t thank me yet. But I hope I can be the man you need me to be tomorrow.”
My breath hitches. Why do I get the feeling that he really could be the man I need? And not only that, but maybe the man I want.
For now, though, fake boyfriend.
One thing at a time.
I shove my thoughts aside and sink back against the pillows, content for the moment just to be here with him, feeling his heat next to me, and listen to the happy sound of his laughter as we watch the TV program together. I shut my eyes and let myself drift.
Chapter 11
Shawn
Madison has slumped lower and lower onto her pillows as we watch the show. I’m pretty sure she’s asleep, or almost there, and now I don’t really know what to do because if I try to get out of this hokey little bed, I know I’ll wake her up. She looks so damned peaceful, I can’t bring myself to do it.
She mumbles a little bit and rolls inward on the bed toward my body. It’s relatively cold in the room, and like a heat-seeking missile, she instinctively keeps scooting closer and closer to me.
Carefully, I slide down further in the bed just as she edges even closer. I leave the TV flickering as it plays another episode, but go ahead and turn out the bedside light. She sighs in her sleep and nuzzles her cheek against my arm. She’s pretty damn cute. So innocent looking and so pretty as her wild curls spill everywhere around us on the pillows.
I grimace as I think back to our conversation at the restaurant about how she’d discovered Chase’s cheating. It had sounded like her discovery of him with the neighbor had come as a great shock to her. And then the look on her face when she mentioned that Chase had just kept right on fucking the other girl … well, I want to find him and make him hurt. As far as I can tell, Chase has lost all sense of morality.
And after hearing why she’d ended things with him, I’m now one thousand percent sure she has no idea that time with the neighbor wasn’t the first time he’d cheated on her. She doesn’t know. I swallow carefully, trying not to get myself all worked up.
I don’t know what happened to make him like this, but I could tell he’d come back from college a completely different person. I’m curious what Madison saw in him and why she’d ever dated him in the first place, but I’m guessing I probably don’t want to know. Sometimes it’s hard to pinpoint exactly why we like the people we do. And I can’t fault her because before he changed, he’d been a decent guy. Perhaps she’d been blinded by the image of the guy she remembered from high school. He’d been cool.
This new version of him is not.
I’d found that out the hard way.
“Shawn! Over here!” Chase waves to
me from the far end of the bar, where he’s set up camp, surrounded by a bunch of women. As I approach, I can tell they are pretty well blitzed, and Chase is having the time of his life with so many women.
Before I get to them, I snag the bartender’s attention and order a beer. Once it’s in hand, I join the group. The very, very drunk group. I can’t help but wonder how long they’ve been at it, they weave on their feet as I watch. “Hey, Chase. How’s it going?”
He spreads his arm out, encompassing his harem. He slurs, “Looks like it’s pretty good. Want in on this action?”
I shake my head as a few of the ladies turn to me expectantly. “Nah, man, that’s okay. They’re all yours.”
“What, don’t you have fun anymore since Dana?”
“Let’s not talk about Dana, okay?”
My heart is still good and sore over the way she hadn’t believed me when I told her I hadn’t cheated. She refused to listen to a word I’d had to say, wouldn’t even explain where she’d gotten the idea from.
“You can totally get her back, you know. It’s not like you actually cheated on her.”
“Excuse me? What makes you say that?” Now he has my full attention.
He stumbles a bit before he laughs right into my face. “That was me. I cheated on Madison, and she found that chick’s bracelet wedged in the seat of my fucking truck.”
“What the hell did you just say?” The blood in my veins starts a slow simmer and a ringing fills my ears.
He tips his beer up, taking a long swallow before wiping his lips with the back of his hand. “She found the bracelet and at first, you know, I just tried to just play it off like you’d borrowed my truck and screwed Dana in there and she left her bracelet behind somehow.” He cackles. “But that Madison, I tell ya, she pays attention to details. The bracelet had a big L on one of the little charms.” He holds his forefinger and thumb out in the shape of an L, looks at it, laughs, and puts the L to his forehead, like the loser he is. “That’s why I had to tell her you cheated on Dana with some other chick.”
Lost in You (Flirting with Forever Book 1) Page 7
