My (Mostly) Fake Wedding - Penelope Bloom Page 0,43

to be real. To last.

The idea sent shockwaves of competing fear and exhilaration through me. All I could do was react by instinct, to step away from the big shiny thing that might be the best thing that would ever happen or the worst. Like I always did, I chose the safer option, the risk-free choice that would let me continue along in my safe but unsatisfying existence.

“Maybe it’d be better if we stuck to pretending,” I said, because at the end of the day, I knew what it felt like when I handed my heart over to someone and they decided to break it. Except Chris would be like an excited puppy. He’d play with it, never intending to break or damage it, but one way or another, it’d be left in tatters by the time he was done.

I waited for Chris to get pissed or look offended. I knew if the situation was reversed, I would’ve been mortified, and I felt shitty for it. But Chris only looked determined.

“You know,” he said. “If they put a deer and a lion in the same enclosure, the lion won’t always try to eat the deer. Sometimes they’ll just relax. But the moment the deer even looks like it might be running, the lion will pounce every time, even if it’s not hungry.”

I waited for more explanation, but Chris was just watching me with a strangely focused expression.

“Okay. But your little analogy breaks down because you’re assuming I’m a deer. What if we’re both lions?”

“Then we’ll make some beautiful cubs, once you decide to stop pretending.”

And just like that, I was smiling again.

Damn Chris Rose, because the longer I spent around him, the more sure I was that this would only end with me doing something I’d regret. Or several somethings.

26

Chris

After a brief but fruitless struggle, I talked Belle out of booking her own hotel once we arrived in London.

She was currently sitting on the couch in our room with a surly expression and crossed arms. “Just so you know, this isn’t going to evolve into a porno. I’m not going to forgetfully walk out of the shower naked and say, ‘oh, roommate, I totally forgot you were here.’”

I’d been fishing through the mini fridge. I picked out a bottle of water and took a sip. I raised an eyebrow at Belle, then set the bottle down. “Is that how pornos usually go? I guess I’ll trust your expert opinion.”

Belle got up and started rummaging through her suitcase for something. “I’m just trying to make sure we both know where we stand. This isn’t Chris and Belle have inadvisable sex, part three, okay?”

“You’re an avid porn watcher, you’ve been fantasizing about how this trip will go between us, and you’re religiously keeping track of how many times we’ve fucked. Got it. Or did I miss something?”

She stood up with a handful of wadded up clothes in her hand, which she jabbed in my direction, as if to make some kind of point. “I’m going to take a shower,” she declared somewhere between yelling and laughing.

“What if there’s a tarantula in there and you need saving? Again.”

Belle stomped toward the bathroom but paused at the door. “You know, you should stop raiding that mini fridge. That stuff isn’t free.”

I popped a few candies in my mouth and unscrewed a soda, just to push her buttons. “Oh? I had no idea.”

“I’m taking my shower now. Alone.”

“Are you asking me to join you? Because if you want me to come in there, all you need to do is say so.”

“Does it sound like I’m asking?” Belle’s voice was a little shrill, and her cheeks had started to go patchily red.

I grinned. “Kind of?”

“Then you need to get your ears checked.”

I waited, snacking on more candies while she still stood at the door to the bathroom. “Are you worried I’m going to pick the lock and let myself in? Is that it?”

With a grunt of annoyance, she finally tugged the door open and closed it. A few moments later, I heard the water start running.

I hopped on the bed and threaded my hands behind my head. Don’t picture what she’s doing in there. Don’t imagine her so desperately horny that she’s about to start sliding her fingers in herself and pretending they’re you. Don’t…

“Fuck it,” I said with a sigh. “Too late.” I unzipped my pants. There were moments in life where a man should be too proud to jerk himself off. Moments when the