They both shut up when they realize the other is there.
“Well, well, well. What the fuck do we have here?” Winston beams at me, probably feeling like he just won the lottery since the guys have been betting on whether Thea and I were together or not.
I’ve kept my promise to her. No matter how many times they’ve tried to pry information out of me—and it’s been a lot—I haven’t caved. They have no confirmation of Thea and me spending time together, but that hasn’t stopped them from taking bets on the status of our relationship.
Idiots.
“Someone should have told me not to come a-knockin’, because clearly the boat’s a-rockin’.” He waggles his brows. “Hey, Thea. Good to see you again. How’ve you been?”
“Oh, you know. Same old, same old. Just making cash and smashing ass.”
Winston’s mouth drops open; she’s rendered him speechless, which makes me laugh.
“How’ve you been?” she continues. “How’s that cute ginger baby of yours?”
My best friend smiles, completely smitten with his son. I could say I never imagined Winston in the role of dad, but that’d be a lie. It felt right from the start. It’s like he was made for the role. He loves Riker with his entire being, even though he’s not biologically his.
“Abso-fucking-lutely perfect. How’s that famous-as-shit brother of yours?”
“A pain in my nonexistent dick.”
Winston snickers, looking between me and Thea, eyes lit with humor. “I, uh, wasn’t aware you two were seeing each other.”
Don’t worry, I’m as surprised as you are, buddy.
She looks over at me, and I can tell she’s relieved I haven’t broken our rule of not telling anyone.
“Rumor mill broken or some shit?” Thea says, putting on the show.
“Apparently so,” he says coolly, though he’s anything but.
“I’m going to go put pants on while you two gossip, then.”
She scampers from the room, leaving just me and Winston.
He looks at me, buzzing, just dying to pepper me with questions, and I’m sure he has a lot of them.
I do too.
But right now, I don’t want to think about them. I just want to have fun and enjoy it while it lasts.
“You’re not going to put pants on too?”
“Come into my house uninvited, risk catching me in my underwear. That’s the way shit works.”
“I’m just glad you’re not wearing the ones Porter got us all.” The dude has a thing for buying us all off-the-wall matching gifts. “Those things scare the shit out of Drew every time she gets into my drawer to put clothes away.”
“That’s because they have his face plastered all over them.”
“Unfortunately.” Winston grimaces. “Also, today is Sunday.”
Shit. It is Sunday, isn’t it?
I’ve been so wrapped up in Thea I didn’t even think about breakfast with the guys this week, and though I wouldn’t ever tell them so, it’s easily my favorite part of every weekend.
“I was sent to check on you since you never miss our weekly meetings,” he continues. “Foster’s dramatic ass was worried you were dead or some shit. I just figured you’d finally had enough of our shit.”
“I’m alive.”
“Clearly.”
“But”—Thea reenters the room, now with a pair of leggings on—“I could have killed you with my amazing sex skills. Let’s just throw that out into the world. I should be praised for my talents.”
Winston nearly chokes on his own spit, but I don’t even flinch, used to her randomness by now.
Of all the things I like about Thea—and it’s a long list—her lack of a filter is without a doubt my favorite. She doesn’t care. She just says what’s on her mind.
I like that. It makes her real, and real is my favorite thing.
I turn back to the coffee pot, plucking a flavor from the drawer and placing the pod into the machine. Closing the lid, I turn back to Winston. “I miss anything good?”
“Porter and Dory are hosting this month’s dinner.”
In addition to our Sunday breakfast tradition, we all take turns hosting a kid-free dinner. Wren came up with the idea right before Nellie was born, and we’ve been doing it since. It’s nice to relax and just hang like we used to before life got hectic for us all with marriage, kids, and jobs.
“It’s this upcoming weekend. You in?”
“Always.”
Winston points to Thea, but his eyes don’t leave me. “She’s coming.”
“Are you asking me or telling me?”
“Telling.”
“Don’t I get a say in this matter?” Thea asks.
“No, because if you don’t come, I don’t get paid.”
“Paid?”
I sigh, grabbing a cup from the cabinet and placing it under the coffee machine, pressing brew. “My idiot friends have been betting on whether or not we’re dating.”
“Ah.” Thea nods. “And I’m assuming you had money on we were and now you need proof to collect?”
“Precisely.”
“What’s the pot?”
“Three hundred.”
“You guys bet a hundred bucks each on your friend’s relationship status?” She laughs. “Fine. I’ll go and I’ll tell everyone Sully and I have been secretly dating for weeks, but I want half of the winnings.”
“Half? You’re nuts. Sixty-forty split.”
“Half.”
“Fifty-five forty-five.”
“Half,” Thea says again, not backing down.
“Fucking hell,” Winston gripes. “Deal.”
They shake on it—because I’m pretty sure Porter’s rules for business are starting to rub off on all of us—and then Winston hitches his thumb over his shoulder.
“I’ll let you guys get back to…well, rockin’ the boat. I’ll see you Saturday night, usual time.”
“I’ll be there with the goods.”
“I swear, if Porter or Foster break out the tequila and get naked again…”
“We need to sew them into their clothes,” I suggest.
“No shit. Later, man.”
With a wave, Winston lets himself out.
I turn back to the finished coffee, removing the full cup and repeating the process with one for myself.
Thea stares after him for a moment, then turns to me. “Wait—let me get this straight. They’re just gonna be hangin’ dong at this party?”
“Porter and Foster tend to get a little carried away when we break out the tequila. Clothes usually come off, and one of them ends up naked in the ocean or streaking down the road.”
“Huh,” she says, reaching for the mug I’m holding her way. “He should have led with that. I’d have definitely gone sixty-forty just to see that shit.”
I drop my head into my hand. “Jesus, Thea.”
“I’m kidding, I’m kidding.” She laughs, setting the coffee mug on the counter next to me.
Rising onto her tiptoes, she plasters herself against me, bringing her lips to my jaw and peppering it with kisses. I lean into her touch, reveling in the feel of her mouth on me. Despite our rounds last night and this morning, my cock isn’t feeling so spent anymore, springing back to life. There’s no way she doesn’t feel it pressed against her as she kisses her way to my ear, tracing the shell and dragging the lobe between her teeth.
“Don’t worry, Sully,” she whispers, my name sounding like the best thing I’ve ever heard. “Yours is the only one I want to see.”
Thea drops to her knees, and I’m a fucking goner.
Slice Fifteen
Thea
We’re gonna leap.
Sully’s words have been on repeat in my head all week as we’ve taken the leap again and again…and again.
It’s just sex. Our evenings were already intertwined together before we broke the rules, but now we’re just spending them a little more horizontal.
Try as I might, I can’t not think
about what all this means for after he’s fulfilled his fake boyfriend duties.
Being together is so easy, so natural. Why does it feel like he’s everything I’ve been missing, especially when he wasn’t supposed to mean anything at all?
My mind is so occupied with trying to find elusive answers, and I can’t sleep for shit. Because of that, for the first time ever, I was late to work this morning, which is extra pitiful because I live right next to the shop.
I’m trying not to obsess over it, but my thoughts won’t stop racing.
Because what if this does mean something? And worse, what if it’s nothing?
Nothing is easier.
Something is scary…but it doesn’t sound as bad as it once did.
Even so, until I can get my own conflicted feelings figured out, I’m keeping my mouth shut. No sense in screwing up what’s working, right?
“Hey,” Sully calls down to me as I walk onto the deck of his boat. “How was work?”
“Busy,” I tell him, skipping over my tardiness. “I need sweets. And maybe a drink.”
“Sweets I can do. I stocked back up on pudding since someone ate all of it, but you’re shit out of luck on beer. I just drank the last one.”
I make my way around, coming up on the stern and climbing the stairs to the top deck. Sully has his legs stretched out in front of him, kicked back in a lounge chair with his laptop on his legs and a beer in hand.
“Long day for you too?” I’ve learned he’s not much of a drinker but will have a beer or two when it’s been a stressful day.
He squeezes the back of his neck, then adjusts his ball cap on his head like he’s done a million times before. “I’m just ready to be done with renovations. I thought I’d have it sorted by now, but I feel like there are still so many little things to get done that are piling up.”
“What’s holding you back?”
“Well, for starters,” he says, “I’m a little distracted.”
I don’t even bother trying to hide my proud grin. “That might be my fault.”
He closes his laptop and sets it on the table he has set up beside him. He told me before that he’s lucky enough to make his own work hours, and I guess today he’d rather be drowning in code than hammering away on the boat. Or maybe he’s trying to make up for skipping work last night.
Again, my fault.
Sully sits forward and reaches out for me, pulling me between his legs, hands coming to the backs of my thighs like he can’t help but touch me.
“Don’t apologize.”
“Oh, I’m not,” I tease as he slides his hands up, slipping them under the hems of my loose pale pink shorts and past my panties.
We’re on the top deck, and while the docks aren’t exactly buzzing with activity, we aren’t alone either. I should tell him to stop, should push him away.
But I’ve grown too addicted to the feel of his hands on me to do that.
“Are you hungry?” he asks, massaging my cheeks.
“I could eat, preferably something sweet.”
He grins up at me, and it’s wolfish. “So could I.”
He is definitely not talking about food.
“Sully…”
“What?” he says innocently. “I was just thinking I could really go for some dessert pizza right about now. What do you say? Dessert for dinner?”
Now I do shove away from him, excited for what he’s suggesting. “You had me at dessert.”
He laughs, pushing up to stand. He wraps an arm around me, tugging me to him with a smirk.
“Hey,” he says softly.
“Hey,” I say back as I exhale.
Then he presses his mouth to mine, kissing me with such gentleness and ease, like he’s been doing it for years.
“Want to skip the part where we pretend to work on the motor and we just end up talking or fucking and go grab dinner at Slice?”
I laugh because he’s right; that has become our routine lately. Just when I was almost done fixing it, I hit a snag in the motor and have to wait on a part to get in, but I’m still showing up every day. We both know why—him.
It usually takes all of one hour for me to find myself in Sully’s bed.
It’s not that I’m complaining; I just feel like I need to hold up my end of the bargain.
“As long as we can revisit the fucking part after dinner, then yes.”
“I like the way you think. Let me change out of these clothes and we can get going.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
We make our way down into the cabin, and Sully changes in record time. When he pops out of his room, he looks like a whole new person with his ass-hugging jeans and a dark gray and black baseball-style t-shirt.
“What?” he asks as my eyes rake over his body, admiring how everything clings to his chiseled body.
“For a split second I thought about turning down dessert pizza in favor of staying in and letting you ravage me.” I shrug.
His eyes blaze and his nostrils flare at the suggestion.
He likes the idea too, and I can’t blame him.
Sex with Sully is…well, I never thought sex could be this good. I can’t seem to get enough of him, nor him of me.
He can make me sweat with the simplest of touches, and the way he commands me…fuck. I didn’t think I was into being ordered around, but when he does it? Drives me wild.
“Let’s go before I change my mind.”
“Is that supposed to be a threat?”
“Thea…” He closes his eyes, saying my name like a curse.
“Right, right. Sustenance first, letting you fuck me until I can’t walk straight later. Hand turkey promise.”
He shakes his head. “Go get in the car, Thea.”
Sully locks up the boat and we make our way to his old pickup. He opens the door for me, and I hop in.
In the four years I was with him, Jaden never once opened my door for me.
I’ll be honest, I never put much stock in the gesture before and couldn’t understand why women went nuts over it, but now that I’ve experienced it, I can see the appeal. It’s sweet in an understated sort of way, and there’s something about it that makes my heart go haywire. I like that Sully puts me first, like I matter to him.
Stop getting shit confused, Thea. Sully’s your fake boyfriend. Just because you’re sleeping together doesn’t mean you matter.
“You okay?” he asks when we’re nearly to Slice. “Your brows are all scrunched together like you’re concentrating hard.”
“Huh? No.” I clear my throat. “I mean yes. I’m fine. Sorry, just tired from today.”
It’s not exactly a lie. Today was exhausting as hell, but I think things are finally starting to settle down at the shop. Tourist season is wrapping up with kids heading back to school soon, so we’re almost in the clear. I can see the end of the tunnel getting closer and closer.
“You know you don’t have to come ‘work’ on the boat anymore, right? All it’s going to take is that one part to get her running again, and we both know I can handle that.”
“Trying to get rid of me so soon?”
“Not at all.” He scratches at his chin. “I’m starting to think I might never get tired of you.”
The last part is murmured, but I hear it loud and clear.
Thumpthumpthumpthumpthump.
There goes my heart again.
He steers the truck into the parking lot of Slice and finds a spot, cutting the engine.
“You ready to grab some grub?”
I grin over at him and nod, then we climb out of the truck and make our way inside.
It’s crowded, but I shouldn’t be surprised. Slice is a hotspot on the island, and since we’re still in the tourist season and people sometimes flock to town just to try Simon’s pizza, it’s expected.
“Hey! It’s the lovebirds.” Speaking of the owner… “You missed breakfast last weekend,” he says to Sully.
Sully sighs. “Trust me, I know. The guys won’t shut the
fuck up about it in our group chat. I’m like two texts away from blocking them all—especially your shithead son.”
“He’s a menace, but I take no responsibility for that. He’s his own special kind of asswipe.”
I laugh because he’s not wrong. I remember how much of a troublemaker Winston was in school. If he wasn’t picking fights, he was finishing them for someone else.
“We’re out of booths, but there are a couple open stools at the bar if you want to grab ’em. I’ll pop by for your drink order as soon as I get this order in.”
One of my favorite parts of coming here over the years has always been how active Simon is. He doesn’t hide away in the kitchen or his office the whole night. He spends his time helping his customers personally, and it’s something our small town really appreciates.
Sully and I make our way to the other side of the pizzeria, snagging the last two available stools.
I grab a menu from the spinning rack and flip it open right to the dessert pizzas because, thanks to Sully, I have the page burned into my brain.
I was doing so well with pretending they didn’t exist, but now that I’ve had one, I’m ruined for life.
“What are you thinkin’ tonight? Want to get the Brookies & Cream again? Or do you want to try something new?”
“That Mint Chocolate Melt looked bomb last time. I think I’ll get that. What are you having?”
“Are we not sharing?”
I blink at him. “Please tell me you’re kidding.”
“I…am?”
“That sounds strangely question-like.”
“Only because I’m afraid to answer you honestly. You take your sweets very seriously.”
“Then you should know I have zero intentions of sharing the pie.”
“They only come in large.”
“I said what I said, Sully.”
He tucks his lips together, nodding. “Fine. Mint Chocolate Melt for you, and I’ll do a Cheesecake Quake.”
“The names he comes up with are so damn ridiculous.”
“One might even say they’re”—he leans into me—“cheesy.”
“Come on,” Simon says, appearing on the other side of the bar. “That was funny. You’re not even going to laugh at him?”
“Oh, I’ll laugh at him no problem.”
Cheesy on the Eyes: Fake Dating Romcom (Slice Book 5) Page 15