Trouble with the Fake Boyfriend (Rock Bottom #3) - Holly Renee Page 0,13
didn’t know why I allowed it, but one little look from him and he was already under my skin.
“When were you?” He asked the question so nonchalantly, but it hit its mark.
He was right. I hadn’t been in a relationship in so long I could barely remember when it was. But I wasn’t destined to be an old woman who had no husband and no babies and fourteen puppies because I didn’t do cats. I wasn’t. It wasn’t happening.
“Touché.” He was right. Maybe I wasn’t relationship material either.
Our waiter interrupted our conversation to set our food in front of us, and I was thankful for the reprieve.
There was no way in hell I would be going home with Liam. Hell, I tried to avoid him at all costs these days.
“I think it’d be good for you to get away for a little while.”
I stared at my best friend like she had lost her damn mind. Sure, a week away from the chaos of work sounded heavenly, but not with him.
She and I hadn’t talked about anything that had gone down between Liam and I or the lack thereof, but she knew me well enough to know that this wasn’t going to happen.
She knew me well enough to know that going home with Liam would not be a good idea for me. He may not have ever wanted anything from me, but I didn’t know that I would be able to say the same if I had to spend a week alone with him.
Or maybe I would.
Maybe a week with him would tell my libido and subconscious that wanted to be attracted to him even after everything that happened to calm the hell down.
“Can we drop this and eat?” I looked around the table. At everyone except Liam.
But he was the only one who came to my rescue.
“Yeah. I’m fucking starving.”
Men like Liam didn’t starve. There were too many people in this world who would be willing to give him anything for him to ever even feel the edge of hunger.
But I was famished and I wasn’t going into the lion’s den with the only thing that seemed to feed my appetite these days.
I was blond, but I sure as hell wasn’t dumb.
Four
The Deal
Liam
I had lost my damn mind.
There was no other explanation for it.
It was the only reason I could think of that my hand would be knocking on Brooke’s door right now.
I had spent the majority of my night last night lying in bed and thinking about Chloe’s idea. Would it be completely stupid and reckless to take Brooke home with me? Absolutely. Did I have any other options? Negative.
I even stalked through Brooke’s Instagram last night, careful not to press any damn buttons that would clue her into my investigation. All I needed was for me to like one of her photos from two years ago. Yes. I went back that far.
Brooke was fucking gorgeous. There was absolutely no denying that. She attracted attention everywhere she went. Every man’s head turned as she walked by, and for good reason. I was right there with them. She had a body that was sinful.
God sculpted her with the intention of torturing men like me.
And she had been. Torturing me.
Ever since the day I met her.
But as much as Brooke seemed like the girl who wanted nothing but a good time, I knew better. You could see it in her eyes. It was clear as fucking day, and I had no interest in going there with her.
Not again.
I had been there before, and I wasn’t in the mood to get my ass kicked by Tucker or Kennedy for that matter when Kennedy’s best friend fell for me, and I didn’t fall back.
I never fell back.
It was some fucked up part of my DNA. I was sure of it.
It’s why I stopped us at the wedding.
Maybe someday it would be different, but I highly doubted it.
Did I want to fuck Brooke? More than I wanted an extra inch on my dick. But wanting to fuck her was not a good enough reason to screw everything else up.
“What are you doing here?” She stood with the door barely cracked open, but I could see that she was wearing a pair of shorts that did nothing to cover her long tan legs.
“I just wanted to come over and check on you.”
She immediately knew I was lying.
It wasn’t that I didn’t want to check on her. It just wasn’t the way our friendship functioned. Or