Almost Perfect: A Frenemies to Lovers Romance

by Claudia Burgoa

  I try to open the door, but he’s already doing it for me. “I said wait.”

  “You’re not the boss of me.”

  “I’m in charge, remember?”

  “Still not impressed,” I say with disdain in my voice when, in truth, I’m intrigued.

  Where are we?

  His smile is different when we reach the main door. It’s the face of a guy who just pulled the best surprise ever. He taps his phone and rings the doorbell.

  A few seconds later, it swings open. “Seriously, seven adults and I have to open the door.” I hear a female voice complaining, and when I see who it is, I screech.

  June swings her arms around me. “It’s you!”

  “It’s me,” I confirm, crying, because we haven’t seen each other in more than a year.

  Suddenly, we’re both crying and mumbling about how much we missed each other, and how proud we are of each other.

  “Come on in, you have to meet your nieces and nephew,” June says, pulling me into the house, stopping to look at Alex. “Thank you.”

  He nods and shrugs at his sister, as if it’s nothing.

  Then, he looks at me. I’m tempted to hug him. This is the best surprise anyone has given me in a long time. Neither his gaze nor his face has that arrogant look that says, I won. The way he looks at me makes my heart skip a few beats. Maybe even swoon.

  I hate so much that he’s doing all these wonderful things for me. It’s like he’s either trying to ruin me for other men or...I refuse to think of any other reason why he’s doing all this. June doesn’t allow me to say much. She drags me through the foyer, and shows me the powder room.

  “Sorry, I became one of those mothers,” she says, laughing. “Wash your hands.”

  “Totally understandable,” I assure her, washing my hands. “Where are they?”

  “The nursery,” she says, “we’re getting them ready for dinner. Alex said he was coming, so we’re trying to get this ready for his birthday, in case he skips it.”

  I blink. “Dude, I feel like I’m barging into a family reunion. He shouldn’t have done that.”

  She shrugs. “I don’t think that’s his plan. He called us a couple of hours ago announcing he’d be visiting and wanted to have dinner with us. We’re just getting ahead of the game because lately, he’s been...off.”

  “Off?” I ask and frown because this is familiar and yet weird.

  Usually, June tells me everything about her brothers and sister. I know almost everything about them. Anything June had to deal with, she’d share it with me. I’m her person. This, her telling me how Alex is off should, be a normal conversation.

  It’s not.

  Honestly, I don’t want to know if he’s been dating for the past year or how many women he’s been sleeping with for the last couple of weeks. I just came back, and I finally realize that things are weird between June and me.

  “As in he’s not hooking up. He’s working like he’s responsible and handling his own life,” she concludes. “I told you he fired me.”

  Alex confirmed. He does that twice a week, but she doesn’t take the hint.

  “You’re bored?”

  She shakes her head. “Not really, but I miss him a little. It’s like there’s a part of him only I had access to, and he shut it down.”

  “Sorry,” I say, knowing she’s closer to him than to the other two. “Hey, at least you’re close to your family.”

  She rolls her eyes. “It’s not the same. If you find out anything, can you tell me what’s happening with him?”

  “Me?” I give her a severe glare.

  “Well, he lives next door to you. If he’s bringing a woman over and having sex, you’ll know. Just like I knew every time you brought a guy,” she explains.

  I don’t tell her it was only one guy. That the guy was her brother.

  “Please,” she begs. “You’re my only hope.”

  “Okay, if I see him with some chick, you’ll be my first call,” I promise, hoping I don’t witness such a thing.

  When we reach the staircase, I stop and smile because Alex is coming downstairs, holding a couple of girls who are chatting his ears off. I recognize them, Caroline and Marianne. Behind him is his mother.

  “Hannah, dear, what a surprise,” his mom says, climbing down the stairs with a baby in her arms. “How was your trip?”

  “Hi, Mrs. Spearman,” I greet her, not knowing if she is referring to the yearlong trip I took or the two-hour flight from San Francisco to here.

  “Ari,” she corrects me and hands me one of the babies. “This is Violet. Sterling and James will be down with Vaughn and Vanessa. Now, tell me all about your trip.”

  Forty-Two

  Hannah

  “That was thoughtful and amazing. Thank you,” I say, as we drive away from June’s house. It’s nine o’clock, and if we’re lucky, we should be home by eleven.

  His family didn’t want to let us go; they only agreed because Bruno and Draco are at home.

  “Next time bring them with you,” his mother said. “We have everything set up for them.”

  When we reach a stoplight, Alex leans close to me, grabs my hand, and kisses it. “So, I’m in charge.”

  I purse my lips and consider the implications for a few seconds. The moment the light turns green, I answer, “Okay.”

  “Now, I’m scared. You don’t agree easily to anything.”

  “That’s not true,” I say, trying to claim my hand back.

  He holds it tight and kisses it again when we get to another red light.

  “Hannah, I know you well. You love to argue about everything, even when you know I’m right.”

  The light turns green, and he amends what he just said. “More like you hate agreeing with me.”

  I huff because he’s right. This should be killing me. The voice of reason is reminding me to keep my distance, not to trust him—at all. Also, I don’t want anyone to control my decisions, the least of all him. But look at what he did. He brought me to see June and the babies. His family was warm and welcoming to me.

  His dad was different. He’s usually quiet, but this evening, we talked about my year. He read most of my articles. Loved the story about East-Bali and even made a hefty donation through the charity Tucker runs.

  Ari was so insistent that we come back on his birthday. I’m not up for it, but he should definitely come back. They seem to miss him, and his sister, Jeannette.

  “You should come back for your birthday,” I suggest.

  “Nope.”

  “Why?”

  He scratches his cheek. “They’re starting to focus their attention too much on my life.”

  “Meaning?”

  “I’m not married, my business sounds like a hobby to them, and I don’t have a plan for my future.”

  “Your marital status shouldn’t matter. You’re successful, and you’re doing what you love,” I correct him.

  “Appearances, Hannah. They see what they want to see. I’m not a loser, but to them, I’m not a successful man either.”

  “They love you.”

  When he parks the car at the airport, there’s a guy already waiting for us. Alex gives him the keys and a card. “Take it to the garage. I don’t think we’ll come back for a couple of weeks.”

  The guy nods. “See you tomorrow.”

  “Who is he?” I ask.

  Alex grins and shakes his head. “He’s part of my team.”

  “Do you have a place here that I don’t know about?”

  “Nope. I rent a garage where I keep a few toys.”

  “You have a game room?” I ask, trying not to sound excited or horny.

  “Do we need one?” His playful gaze makes me ache, and the insinuation makes me remember the things he can do to me.

  Sex with Alex is adventurous. Always different and unique.

  “Behave, Spearman,” I order, as we take a seat on the plane. “Why did you choose to bring me here?”

  “I don’t know,�
� he sighs. “It was a spur of the moment decision. The original plan was a Sharks game. But it felt shallow.”

  “You can’t just say I don’t know.” I press for information. “This is so nice. Too nice. What’s the ulterior motive?”

  “I don’t know exactly.” He shrugs. “What I do know is that I wanted something different. Every other option sounded fine but not good enough. I wanted to surprise you and…”

  He’s off, June said that just a couple of hours ago. Off is the right word. He’s not himself.

  “Are you dying?”

  “What?” He chuckles.

  “Well, you’re being super nice and weird. No, not weird but...different.”

  The smugness is still there, but he’s not just an asshole throwing lines and hoping to get laid. He is Alex, the guy from the letters, the same one I spent time in France with. This is that man. He has been present since I arrived at my apartment. This feels easy. Too easy.

  Which is a lie, there’s nothing easy between us. We always complicate things with sex. Off the charts hot, sweaty, meaningless sex. At least, meaningless for him.

  Where is the asshole?

  “Don’t do that, Hannah,” he orders, running a hand through his hair. “Don’t be like them and start trying to find out if there’s something wrong with me.”

  “You’re acting too nice, which I like. It’s just strange, okay? The old you is easy to handle because I always know what to expect. This game is new to me, and you haven’t even explained the rules.”

  “There’s no game,” he clarifies, securing my seat belt as the pilot announces we’re granted permission to take off. “Not all of us need to spend a year traveling the world to see life from a different perspective.”

  “Is this mocking me, criticism, or you just want to swing a punch at me because you feel like it?”

  “Fuck, Hannah,” he mutters, dragging his hands over his face. “I thought we were past this.”

  “You threw the first punch,” I accuse him.

  “Me, you’re the one who keeps doubting my every move. Where’s the woman who wrote me those long letters about herself?” He pulls out his earplug case. “When she’s ready to be around, let me know. I can’t go back to fighting with you.”

  “Our problem is that we jumped each other too soon. I don’t do well with the guys I sleep with, and yet, you’re still around.”

  He moves his gaze toward me and takes off his earplugs.

  “Too soon? Should I have waited for a sign?” he sighs. “You’re pretty forward, too. Which I love about you.”

  “No, but we’re awful to each other afterward,” I remind him. “We both changed. The attraction is still lingering. We also know lust is our third wheel. In fact, we should’ve never had sex.”

  “You want me to apologize because it has happened? The last time was a year ago, and I’m not—” He stops when the flight attendant approaches us.

  She sets a glass of wine and a scotch down with a tray of cookies. Not just regular cookies, but snickerdoodles. My favorite.

  I look at Alex, and I’m battling between the Hannah who wants to crawl into his lap and kiss him and the one who wants to punch him for making me feel like this.

  Once we’re alone again, he says, “I’ll never apologize for any of the times I’ve been with you. They happened, I enjoyed them as much as you did, and you won’t take them away from me.”

  Alex Spearman is the guy who has made me want to spend more than one night with a guy. He also showed me this thing between us is only physical. We know the game. We follow one rule.

  We do it one time and swear it’s over…until we see each other, and we can’t control the craving for one another.

  Wash.

  Rinse.

  Repeat.

  I know the score. There’s no way he’d want my heart, and I don’t want to give it to him. He’s a player. I can deal with that guy. He’s easy to recycle.

  However, this Alex…

  The one who wrote me long letters. The guy I found at my apartment taking care of my kitten. The one who suggested a Marvel movie marathon and who flew me to see my best friend…what am I supposed to do with him?

  Show him you're in charge.

  “We’re not having sex.” I smile, gaining control. “As good as it is, I’m not going there—ever again.”

  He smirks. “Are you telling me, or trying to convince yourself?” He clinks his glass to mine. “It’ll be interesting to see which part of your brain wins. May the best side win.”

  My smile slips as his grows. If there’s a scoreboard, I’m pretty sure he’s winning, and I have no idea what new game we’re playing or if the rules have changed.

  Forty-Three

  Alex

  This was supposed to be a foolproof plan. Granted, I didn’t think about Mom while I made the calls and convinced my brothers to keep a lid on my visit. June’s efficiency and fast delivery comes from our mother. When we arrived, Mom had already organized my birthday party.

  What I thought would be a quiet reunion where Hannah and June could catch up became all about...me. I didn’t hate it, but it was anything but what I wanted it to be.

  You know what’s strangely fulfilling?

  Knowing that I made Hannah happy in spite of my mom’s intrusion. Don’t get me wrong, I love my mother, and I appreciate her. But did she really have to make this about me? This is exactly why everyone insists I’m a mama’s boy.

  Hannah is happy yet weary since we left. It’s like she can’t allow herself to trust me. I feel her intense gaze, and I try to ignore her while we take off. Once the pilot announces we’re allowed to walk around the cabin, I glance at her. Her mouth moves, but I can’t hear over the music. Any other day, I’d just ignore her, but tonight isn’t a good time to play dumb.

  “Sorry, noise-canceling,” I declare, once I take off one of them.

  She huffs. “So, you became a spectator, and I’m just making a fool of myself?”

  There she is. My feisty unicorn doesn’t let things go easily until she understands them or she’s in charge. Which, let’s be honest, she is in charge of this relationship.

  Can we even call this a relationship?

  We’re not each other’s booty call, but when the opportunity arises, it happens. What are we? I’m hoping that by the end of her experiment, we’re more. There’s always our history to factor into the outcome, though. She might just write me off and push me away—forever.

  “I get it, it’s hard to trust me after everything that’s happened between us,” I say, sounding as calm and as honest as I can. “But there’s no game. You’re the one fighting the urge to kiss me.”

  “You don’t know me.”

  She swears I don’t know her. I do. It’s scary and yet satisfying to confess that by now I know her better than I know myself.

  “Nine months writing about our mistakes, our fears, our dreams, and our history is plenty to know who we are,” I assure her. “I’m here. Nothing has changed. I’m exactly the same guy who wrote to you about the scariest day of his life. My battles. My passions. You know my likes and dislikes. I’m the guy who’s been not only reading but listening to every word you write. Because I now can read between the lines.”

  She studies me for several beats, and I hold my breath for as long as she remains silent.

  “Are you helping me or trying to make me fall for you?”

  My brain searches for the right answer. Any answer that’d keep me close to her. I feel like I’m standing in quicksand, and there’s nothing I can hold onto to pull me out of it. If I move too fast, I’ll drown; if I don’t move, I’ll eventually drown as well.

  I’ve got nothing. There’s no right answer for Hannah. She’s trying to pull away from me, and anything I say will do the trick. She looks at me expectantly.

  “What do you want?” I ask, hoping it’ll buy me some time.

  Resisting the urge to just avoid the words and give into the attraction, I realize that’
s what she’s expecting. To be the same guy she left behind. She’s afraid of who I became during the time she was gone. The guy who gives a fuck about her feelings more than he cares about himself scares her.

  She’s terrified.

  I know because I’m equally terrified of her.

  “It’s not a game,” I explain, trying to erase the bewilderment in her expression. “There’re no rules. Honest to goodness, I saw another side of you that I like.”

  More like I think I’ve been falling in love with you.

  “I thought we became friends. As a friend, I’m offering to help you. I have fun with you. If you fall for me—”

  “That won’t happen,” she interrupts me. “We’ve never been good together.”

  She pauses, pressing her lips together. Her eyes avoid mine, and the silence is deafening.

  “Look, I like you and I enjoyed our letters. A lot. The guy from the letters and I are close. Sometimes I feel closer to him than anyone else. The thing is, I can’t put the two of you together. It’s hard.”

  “Which is understandable; for years, I made an ass of myself when you were around,” I offer.

  “You were fun, too,” she comments casually. “I think we have to stick to friends, don’t you agree?”

  “How many times do we have to confirm that we’re friends?” I ask curiously. “Do you need my lawyer to draw a document establishing our status?”

  She rolls her eyes.

  “No, really. We can always friend each other on Facebook,” I press, trying not to laugh.

  “Do you have a Facebook account?”

  “Nah, I don’t touch social media. I think I still have my Instagram account. June’s the one who used to handle it.”

  She laughs and relaxes. “Okay then, we’ll have to trust the old way since neither one of us has an app where we can show our friendship ribbon.”

  “Thank you for today. Seeing June was good. Meeting those little ones was the highlight of my week,” she says.

  “I thought it was stargazing?”

  Her lips part, those doe eyes stare at my mouth.