Almost Perfect: A Frenemies to Lovers Romance

by Claudia Burgoa

  “Sweetheart, I have to find a way to continue what we have. You can’t ignore the fire we create when we’re together.”

  “See that right there is an issue. You’re handling this as more than sex already.”

  He laughs and shakes his head. “Those are lines, Hannah. Don’t confuse my attraction to you with feelings. I don’t get attached.”

  I know.

  I reach for my backpack and take out my noise-canceling earbuds. He’s right about the flame, and I know what happens when you play with fire. I’d be lying if I tell him that I don’t want him to burn me. I miss him. There’re so many places on this plane where we could get naked and just do it.

  But we are never easy. It’s never a one-time thing. He’d want more time; I’d demand his heart. Neither one of us is willing to concede what the other wants. It’s not worth it. All I know is that every time we’re together, we hurt each other. At least, one of us always gets burnt. We have to stop this cycle. I live a simple life, and that’s exactly how it’ll remain.

  “It’s nothing personal,” I say. “I have a lot of work. If you’re that desperate, I’m sure you can find someone in Paris to keep you entertained during the weekend. It certainly won’t be me.”

  I deserve a Nobel Prize or something similar. This is not just a sacrifice, but also a peace treaty. There won’t be war between the two of us. That part is also over.

  Eleven

  Hannah

  Trocadero Gardens is one of my favorite places in the world. There’s a restaurant nearby where Sadie and I love to have breakfast whenever we visit Paris. Or at least we used to do it when I was younger. We haven’t traveled together in a while.

  I should buy some souvenirs for my family and ship them when I get home. Aubrey, my little sister, loves when I buy her keychains and bells from wherever I travel.

  Instead of thinking about family, though, I try to enjoy the moment. The view of the Eiffel Tower and the gardens are not only breathtaking but also peaceful. Even pigeons look beautiful from here.

  The downside of being in Paris–Alex Spearman. He’s tagging along. I can’t seem to shake him. Earlier, when I stepped out of my hotel room, he was standing outside, leaning back against the wall. He waited for me, one cup of coffee in hand and a cocky smile.

  It’s hard to say no to the coffee when he also handed me a shortbread cookie. Buttery, crumbly, and not too sweet. If only he had brought some apricot jam along to spread on top of it. Or maybe on top of him.

  I can’t shake him off. His excuse is our next flight. We leave at noon for Midi-Pyrénées, where the wedding is taking place. It’s a one-hour flight that we could’ve made when we arrived in Paris. However, Alex said he couldn’t take it.

  He’s a strange traveler. During both flights, he practiced yoga. I’m not complaining because it was...hot. Though, he claimed that all the stretching he did wasn’t enough to relax his muscles. He needed to rest for the night.

  The hardest part of this entire trip is that I can’t text my best friend and tell her about any of this. She’s the only one who likes talking about the hot sexy guys we meet.

  A shirtless hottie, wearing only a pair of shorts and stretching, is good for the soul…sorta.

  The problem is, if she learns it’s Alex, she won’t approve. Maybe she’ll shake me and give me a million great reasons why I have to stop looking at her brother like he’s the most delicious treat in the entire world. I’m in Paris, for Pete’s sake. There’re at least a dozen Parisians who are hotter than him.

  Aren’t there?

  The designer sunglasses covering his piercing eyes make him look even hotter. Who knew he could look better? I hate that I’m loving the multiple phases of Alex Spearman. He doesn’t drink coffee. The guy is a health nut. There is one thing we have in common; we have touchy subjects no one is allowed to ask about.

  “Do you realize you’re in the land of French cuisine?” I ask as he takes a bite of his fruit salad.

  There’s nothing wrong with fruit. I love it. Vegetables aren’t my favorite, but I eat them often. This man eats them as if his life depends on them.

  “Yep,” he answers. “You can eat all the pastries and sweets for the two of us. What’s the plan for today?”

  I reach for his wrist and check the time. It’s hard to ignore the warmth of his skin and the electricity we produce each time we touch each other. Pretending is getting harder.

  Hang in there for just a few days, I tell myself.

  “The plan?” he asks again, moving his hand away from me and pushing his glasses up on his head. “Is there anything in particular you’d like to do? It seems like you know the city pretty well.”

  I take a sip of my drink, because the chatty part of myself wants to share with him more than I should. He’s right, I know this city the same way I know Seattle or San Francisco. But I keep everything bottled up because it’s too personal.

  “I just need a few presents for my family,” I say casually.

  He calls the waitress, pays the bill, and tilts his head toward the exit. “Ready to go?”

  I reach out for his fork, pinch a piece of watermelon, and eat it. “You want my last piece of crepe?” I ask. “It has strawberries.”

  He laughs and shakes his head. “No dairy, no wheat…you don’t want to hear about my diet. Come on, unicorn. Let’s find your presents and some sugar for that sweet tooth.”

  I cut a glance at him. He’s rising from his seat and offering me his hand. “Mademoiselle.”

  “Why don’t we meet at the hotel in a couple of hours?” I suggest. “Before we have to check out.”

  He shakes his head. “I sent the bags to the airport.”

  I should’ve known he had some weird plan. Maybe he’s just as crazy as June, needing to control everything around him. “Still, let’s meet later.”

  “We can keep each other company. You can help me choose something for June. I didn’t buy her a wedding present. Perhaps, we can find something for the babies. She might pick me to be the godfather of one of them.”

  I laugh because this guy is too competitive, and that’s when everything makes a whole lot of sense.

  “Why didn’t I think about it?” I ask, but don’t wait for an answer. “You don’t like to lose. This is just a game. If she doesn’t want to be with me—”

  “I’m going to use your line and say, stop right there,” he says. “Look, why don’t we pretend that you’re just a girl in Paris, and I’m just a guy wanting to spend some time with you? I can push the flight for later today. It can be fun. You and I just enjoying the day.”

  “Just be a tourist in a foreign country?”

  “Exactly,” he says, with a quick grin.

  “All right, we’ll go shopping together,” I confirm, reaching for my purse. “But remember, Spearman, you can’t complain about today.”

  “Complain?” He shakes his head. “Woman, I have two sisters and a mom. You can’t possibly be worse than the three of them—together.”

  “We’ll see,” I say.

  “Are you challenging me?” he questions, opening the door of the restaurant.

  “Nope, just warning you,” I answer, stepping outside and waiting for him to follow right behind me.

  We walk through the gardens. I take multiple pictures and text them to Sadie, who responds to every picture.

  “You have a good relationship with your mom,” Alex states, as he hands over my phone after snapping a picture of me.

  I look at him. He’s been nothing but nice for the past hour. Patient. A part of me wants to tell him more about Sadie, while the other reminds me this is a game of pretend.

  Mom: We should plan a trip soon. I miss you, sweetheart.

  My heart squeezes, and before I know it, Alex takes off my glasses and wipes the tear that escapes the corner of my eye.

  He shoves his sunglasses on the top of his head and looks into my eyes. “What is it?”

  “Nothing,” I answer, trying to shake
the nostalgia. “It’s not a midlife crisis. More like questioning the direction of my life and how I’ve let my past affect my future. My family has always known me as a sparkle. A ray of sunshine. The day I became dark and twisted, I began to avoid them. Sadie expects me to still be her happy girl, and sometimes, I feel more like my mother, you know.”

  “The cool thing about being an adult is that you can be whatever the fuck you want,” he says. “The best thing about families is that they accept you, no matter who you become and how you change to survive in this world.”

  I stare at him because he sounds so different from the Alex I know—the flirty guy who just wants to fuck and be done with me.

  He frowns and asks, “Wait, Sadie isn’t your mom?”

  “She’s my stepmom,” I explain, and it feels natural to tell him more about myself. “She started dating Dad when I was almost nine. She helped me organize the best birthday party ever.”

  As we continue walking through the gardens, I tell him how she taught me everything I know about flowers and gardening. By the time we’re heading to the Louvre, he knows enough to understand why Paris is making me nostalgic.

  Do I miss home?

  Sometimes, but I know I’m better away from everything that happened there. Even when the cost is high, being away from Dad, Mom, and my siblings.

  By the end of our touristy day, I think he knows a lot more about me than I intended to share. Not that he has the whole picture of who I am. There’s no way he’ll get more out of me. The one-hour flight to Midi-Pyrénées goes by fast.

  “Tell me something I don’t know about you?” I ask.

  “What do you know about me?” he replies. “Nothing good can come out of my little sister’s mouth.”

  “Other than you being a jock and a ladies’ man?”

  He clears his throat. “Excuse me?”

  “Hey, that’s how June refers to you. That or a playboy.” I shrug. “You’re her favorite brother, you know.”

  He narrows his gaze. “Did she tell you why I retired?”

  I shake my head. “She’s mentioned you were in a car accident. Five semi-serious relationships. The last one was messy. You already told me a bit about Samantha, which is why I saved you from her. I’ve no idea what you do in your shop. Maybe you’re Santa.”

  “Snowboards,” he says, fighting a smile. “We make surf and snowboards. When I’m not busy with public appearances, I’m there designing something new.”

  When the jet lands and the pilot announces we can safely leave the plane, we go silent. This is it. The moment when we stop being a guy and a girl and become Alex and Hannah. Two people who have a complicated relationship and hurt each other when they’re together.

  When I stand up, his eyes glitter in the dim light. He rises from his seat and helps me with my bags. Once we’re at the hangar, he sets everything on the floor and grabs my hands.

  “Thank you for letting me spend the day with you,” he says, surprising me even more. “It was better than I expected.”

  It was, and I’m not sure what to say. Anything I say might be wrong. Kiss me. Let’s forget about today. I wish…I don’t know what to wish for but this outcome sucks.

  He drives us silently to the château.

  It’s an old castle in the middle of a vineyard. For a woman who wasn’t looking for romance or a happily ever after, June is living a beautiful fairy tale.

  “Okay, according to the email she sent me, our rooms are on the third floor,” he says, looking at his phone. “She’s not happy that we skipped the family dinner. We can’t escape the rehearsal dinner.”

  “Oh, no, we messed up her itinerary.” I laugh as we climb the stairs. “Do you think she has pamphlets and a program? This is like a cruise, not a wedding.”

  He nods once we arrive at my room. “She’s never going to change, but we love her that way. Don’t we?”

  “This is me, I guess.”

  He lifts my chin with one hand. Sighing, he says, “Why do I feel this is more than just the end of the perfect day?”

  Because this should be the end of us.

  Instead, I say, “It was a good day, wasn’t it?”

  “Yeah, could we repeat it?” He uses his other hand to brush away some of the strands close to my face. He then leans closer, kissing my cheek slowly with a premeditated movement that makes me quiver and wakes every cell in my body.

  My mouth parts open, I need more than the tender, carefully placed caress of his lips.

  “After this, maybe we can be just you and me running around in San Francisco,” he whispers in a low voice. “Being tourists, forgiving each other for…”

  “Alex,” I mumble his name, but that’s all he allows me to say.

  His big, callous hand cups the nape of my neck, while the other slides down my back until it reaches my behind. He presses me against him, and his mouth touches mine.

  Alex starts off with a soft, gentle kiss, holding me still as he tastes me thoroughly. Every part of my body crackles with need. He’s the only man I let touch me the way he does in a long time. Not only kiss me but let myself enjoy the moment. With him, I’m never frigid. I always melt with the heat of his mouth and the tenderness of his soft touch.

  Every sweet caress makes me want...him.

  But I can never give him me, so what’s even the point?

  I take a deep breath, because even while my body wants him, I can’t do this. Not again.

  “We shouldn’t,” I say, trying to push him away.

  His hand slips around my neck, and his eyes darken, making my breath catch.

  “We’re bad for each other,” I tell him, trying to convince him—maybe even myself.

  “No. I’d say we’re perfect. Stop fighting what’s happening,” he pleads, resting his forehead against mine. “This feels like—”

  “Shh.” I place my index finger on his lips. “Save the memories. I know I will. We don’t want to tarnish them with sex.”

  He lifts my chin, giving me a peck.

  “It’ll be the best you’ve ever had,” he promises, smirking at me. “Trust me.”

  Those two words sound tempting, challenging, but most of all, scary.

  Why should I trust him?

  Twelve

  Alex

  Is this goodbye?

  Hannah has never been wishy-washy about us. When she wants sex, she lets me know. In all this time, she’s never told me it’s over. Her New Year’s article said as much. She was planning on stopping her meaningless one-night stands. One year without men was her first step. A way to detoxify before she searched for the right guy.

  She’s finding her inner peace. But in between the lines, she talked about me. It wasn’t clear, but I swear she practically called me her booty call. Well, not necessarily me, but the guys she hooks up with from time to time. How do I know it’s me? Her mouth says there are other guys, but there hasn’t been anyone since we met. It’s in the question that we ask every time we’re together.

  Are you sure no condom? Are you clean? Yes, you’re the last one I had sex with, but I got tested if you want to see the results. Still on the injection, so we’re safe.

  There’s never been a guy in between. There’s never been another woman in between—Sam was the last woman I slept with before Hannah. My sister swears I’m sleeping around because I can’t tell her about my situation with her best friend. It breaks some rules; plus, it makes no sense. Who spends the night with a woman who hates his guts?

  If this is it, the last time between us, I want to make it count. I kiss her furiously, and she does the same. We’re in the middle of a thunderstorm. She sparks as the electricity between us runs through our bodies.

  I don’t want to miss anything about this night.

  “Alex,” she says my name with a low tone, almost purring.

  I pick her up and place her on top of the bed.

  “What do you want?” I ask, my voice is so ragged, desperate. I can’t think straight. My mind is split be
tween fucking her now or making this night unforgettable.

  She places her hands on my face, our eyes meet. “It’s always complicated.”

  “Just a girl and a boy,” I remind her. “No complications today. This weekend we signed a treaty.”

  I bury my face in her neck and kiss her along her exposed skin. I bite her ear, rubbing my stubble against her skin, the way she likes it. The urge to unwrap her heightens, and as my hands begin to take off her shirt, she pulls my sweater up, and in record time, we’re both almost naked.

  She only wears a purple lacy bralette and matching pair of panties. She’s the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen in my life. Looking at her, vulnerable yet open to me, is a sight I cherish. She’s not hiding anything, it’s just Hannah brightening the room.

  There’s no darkness. Nothing twisty about her, other than her twisted mind wanting dirty sex.

  I step closer to her and push her gently to the bed. Our gazes connect, her eyes are on fire. She glides her palms across my stubble. I know what she wants, my mouth on her. I’d love to give her what she’s desperate for.

  Instead, I start with her beautiful breasts. Sucking on each hardened, pearly nipple through the lace makes her arch. Her fingers thread tightly through my hair as I suck on her breasts.

  She pushes my head, trying to guide me without words down her gorgeous body.

  “Babe, I’m in charge.”

  She laughs. “Or so you like to think.”

  I inch my way down her body, kissing every corner of her soft skin. Flicking my tongue across her flower tattoo.

  She whimpers and moans. Her hips try to rise high, seeking release. She’s gone wild as I sip and lick, tasting her until she’s demanding release. I don’t give in yet. I scrape her skin with my teeth, trying to hold onto the waistband of her panties.

  Inching them down, I create a trail with the pads of my fingers. Teasing her, making her want even more. I press my face into her core, while my hands finish taking off her panties. Once she’s bare, I push her knees open and place a kiss on her clit. She cries and quivers.