One Week Girlfriend

by Monica Murphy

  My phone beeps and I glance at the screen.

  At a restaurant at Sixth and Ocean. I need to get out of here. I’ll wait outside for you.

  Looks like I need to go rescue my fake boyfriend from his overbearing father.

  Drew

  The moment I see her, I let go of the ball of anxiety rolling around in my chest with a deep, cleansing breath. I wait outside the restaurant, telling Dad I needed to use the phone, when really I just wanted to wait for Fable.

  And get away from him.

  She’s smiling at me as she approaches, her blonde hair pulled back into a high ponytail, revealing her rounded cheeks, her pert nose and her rosebud lips. The more I look at her, the prettier I think she is. Though not just pretty…

  Fable’s hot. Sexy as hell with a fine body that I’ve seen in various stages of undress since we’ve been staying at the guesthouse. I caught her in a towel this morning when she snuck out of the bathroom and darted across the hall into her room. She didn’t even see me.

  But I saw her. All that creamy, dewy bared skin on display that made me want to chase after her. Haul her in close and feel her wrap around me. Tangle my fingers into her wet hair and tug, bringing her mouth to mine…

  Holy shit. Just remembering that sets my skin on fire. I try my damnedest to keep everyone at arm’s length, especially girls, but Fable’s already getting under my skin and making me want.

  Her.

  Wearing skintight jeans and an oversized black sweater, she looks good enough to eat. And I never think like that. Ever. She’s making me think and feel things that are somehow both uncomfortable and freeing.

  In other words, Fable leaves me in a constant state of confusion.

  “Here I am.” She stops just in front of me, her head coming only to my chest, she’s so short. I could scoop her up, toss her over my shoulder and carry her out of here, no problem. “Ready to rescue you.”

  Code word marshmallow hasn’t been used yet, so I’m pleased at how fast she comes to me. Not that my dad is being particularly bad or yelling. He just won’t stop asking me questions about my future. Stuff I can’t answer because I have no clue what’s going to happen.

  I finally couldn’t take it anymore and texted marshmallow when I made a bathroom escape.

  Now here she was. Ready to whisk me away.

  “Thanks for showing up.”

  “Is he being hard on you?”

  “No, I just…don’t want to answer all of his questions.”

  “Oh.” That one single non-word is loaded with all sorts of questions itself. None I can answer either.

  “Did you like looking at all the stores?” That’s what girls did. Shop, spend money, though I don’t think Fable really has much to spend. Well, she did if she wanted to blow that money I gave her, but I know she’s saving it to take care of her brother.

  The noble barmaid named Fable. Sounds like a story out of a modern fairytale.

  “The shops here are way too expensive for my taste.” She wrinkles her nose, which is cute as hell. “I can’t afford to look inside, let alone think about buying anything. I’m not really a shopper anyway.”

  So what does she like to do besides hang out at the beach? I know nothing about this girl. What I do know, I don’t much understand. We’re complete and total opposites in pretty much every way.

  “What do you like to do then? During your off time?” She stares at me strangely and I feel like an idiot. “You know, like hobbies or whatever.”

  She bursts out laughing. “I don’t have time for hobbies. I used to like to read.”

  “Used to?”

  “I’m too busy.” She shrugs. “Working, taking care of my brother, cleaning up around our place, I always end up totally exhausted and when I fall into bed, I’m already asleep.” Her gaze cuts away from mine.

  “Same here.” I keep myself busy on purpose. My class load is heavy, though I have no idea what I want to do with my life beyond football. Hell, I know my coach is mad I didn’t stay around campus so I can practice and that still makes me feel guilty. There’s a big game coming up and I need to be at peak performance.

  “Really?” She sounds shocked.

  I nod. “It’s easier that way, don’t you think? Staying so busy nothing can bother you.”

  She studies me for a while, her gaze narrowed. Perceptive. As if those dark green eyes can reach directly inside me and examine all my hidden secrets.

  I don’t like it.

  “There you are.” I turn to see my dad coming out of the restaurant, his irritation obvious. He glances at Fable and his jaw hardens. “I thought we weren’t finished with our conversation,” he says pointedly.

  “Oh, I am so sorry, I thought you two were done.” Fable steps right in like a good little girlfriend, slinging her arm through mine and nestling that hot body close. Her breasts press against my side and she gazes up at me adoringly. “I need Drew’s help. I can’t make up my mind which pair of shoes I want to buy.”

  She’s good. Not two minutes ago she’s complaining about how she hates shopping and now she’s the simpering girlfriend who can’t make a shopping decision without my input.

  “I assume they’re for tonight then?” Dad asks.

  “What’s going on tonight?” Great. I don’t want to put on a show for anyone. Bad enough we have to fake this for my dad and Adele. It’ll feel like the grand performance if we take this public.

  “A special early Thanksgiving dinner at the country club. I told you about it the night you arrived.”

  No way do I want to go. Sounds like a special sort of hell. “I don’t know…”

  “I insist,” Dad interrupts, wearing that expression that says no arguments allowed.

  “Sounds fun.” Fable tightens her arm around mine but I hear the tension in her voice. Tonight sounds like a special sort of hell for her too. “What should I wear?”

  “Something semi-formal. Cocktail casual.” Dad beams, like he knows he’s making Fable uncomfortable and confused and that’s so fucked up. “I’m sure you have a pretty dress somewhere in your bag of tricks.”

  “Dad.” I’m pissed at the way he talks to her, but how do I stand up to him? I never really have before because shit. He’s my father. He’s all I have in this world.

  He ignores me, no surprise. “Adele will want the two of you home by five to ensure we’ll all be ready in plenty of time before we have to leave.” Dad glances at his watch. “I have a meeting with a client in thirty minutes. I’ll see you two later.”

  We watch him walk away in silence, Fable still snug at my side until he’s gone. She slowly pulls away and I immediately miss her.

  Stupid.

  “I have nothing to wear for some fancy cocktail party dinner thing.” She sounds stressed out. “You didn’t tell me to pack anything like that.”

  I should’ve. I’m an idiot for forgetting. My plan was so last minute, I forgot all sorts of shit. “I’ll buy you something,” I offer. “Let’s go look around. We have time.”

  She shakes her head. “No way. You’ve spent too much money on me already. I’m not about to have you buy me some expensive cocktail dress for a one time only event. I’m not playing Pretty Woman here.”

  Funny thing is, we sort of are. I’ve seen the damn movie—who hasn’t? I’m pretty sure Richard Gere’s character paid Julia Roberts AKA the prostitute three thousand dollars for her to pretend to be his girlfriend. Bought her a bunch of clothes too.

  The similarities are undeniably there.

  “I don’t mind.” I grab her hand and give it a squeeze. She’s watching me with a funny look on her face, like she can’t believe I voluntarily touched her without anyone around to see us, but fuck it.

  I need her to know that not only is she helping me, but I want to help her too. I don’t want her to be uncomfortable. I don’t want my parents to put her down or make her worry she won’t fit in. It’s bad enough we both know she definitely doesn’t fit in.

  But I don’t feel
like I fit in here either. On the outside I might, but on the inside? Not at all. No one knows the shit I’ve gone through.

  I plan on keeping it that way.

  * * * *

  We find one of those trendy expensive chain stores at the very back of the exclusive outdoor shopping center where I originally dropped her off. Fable’s semi-comfortable there, she knows the store and even though she says it’s expensive, it’s not as bad as most of the other shops that line Ocean Avenue, so I agree.

  The place is huge, filled not only with clothes, but also home stuff like bedding, towels, knickknacks and bunch of other pointless bullshit. Fable makes a beeline to rack after rack of dresses and she’s moving frantically, grabbing one after another and slinging them over her arm, the wooden hangers clanking against each other as she walks.

  “Hey.” I keep my voice low as I approach her and she pops her head up, her eyes wide. “There’s no fire. We have plenty of time.”

  She exhales loudly and shakes her head. “I have no idea what I’m doing. I’m going to need your opinion on this.”

  What do I know about cocktail dresses? “I’ll help you,” I offer because I know I should.

  “Like you’ll have to lurk around the dressing rooms and actually see me in every dress so you can tell me how I look. I can’t do this alone.” She looks downright frightened. “Thank God they have a bunch of stuff out for the holidays. Hopefully one of these will work.”

  “Hi! Can I start a dressing room for you?” The high-pitched voice comes from behind us and we both turn to see who it is. “Drew Callahan, ohmigod, is that you?”

  Ah, hell. My worst nightmare has come to life. I went to high school with this chick. Kaylie, I think her name is. Yep, there’s her nametag with Kaylie written on it. “How’s it going,” I offer weakly.

  Her smile is so big and bright she almost blinds me. Someone’s been bleaching her teeth way too much. “It’s so good to see you!” She throws herself at me and I have no choice but to embrace her back.

  I can feel the curiosity and irritation radiating off Fable as she stands next to me. I offer her an apologetic glance but she rolls her eyes. For whatever reason, this reunion is pissing her off.

  “It’s good to see you too,” I tell Kaylie, giving her an awkward hug. She withdraws from me, the giant smile still on her face, her dark eyes sparkling.

  “What have you been up to? Well, besides football. You never come around anymore.” Fake pout. “Everyone misses you.”

  “Been busy.” I shrug.

  “Wow, I guess we don’t rate then. Can’t even make it back to your hometown.” It’s like she’s forgotten all about Fable, the customer she’s supposed to be helping. Instead, Kaylie is focusing all her attention on me. “Can you believe I have to work here? My daddy made me get a job so I can learn what it’s like to live in the real world. Said my ten thousand dollar a month credit card statements were getting totally out of hand.” She laughs.

  Fable’s gaping at her. I just gave her three thousand dollars that’ll support her entire family for months and this girl’s acting like spending ten thousand a month on miscellaneous bullshit is no big deal. “Um, you asked if I wanted to start a dressing room?” Fable asks out of nowhere.

  Kaylie looks at her, her demeanor changing instantly. Before she was the good little worker, and now she’s assessing Fable since it’s obvious we’re together.

  I hope like hell we look like we’re together.

  “Here.” Fable hands over the clothes when Kaylie still doesn’t answer her. “I would really love it if you started me a dressing room.”

  The sarcasm is evident in Fable’s voice and I try my best to hide the smile. Kaylie takes the clothes, her upper lip curled. “I hope these are the right size for you. They look a little small.”

  Catty bitch.

  Fable offers her a fleeting smile. “Oh, the size is perfect. I just have humongous tits so it always looks like I need to go up a size but I make it work. Drew likes it when they hang out and he can see them. Easier access and all that. Right honey?” She bats her eyelashes at me and this time I can’t hold back the chuckle that escapes.

  This girl—my fake girl—is just too much.

  “Right,” I murmur, enjoying the humor dancing in Fable’s eyes.

  Kaylie mutters something under her breath and heads for the dressing room.

  “Well. She was rude,” Fable says the moment Kaylie’s out of earshot.

  “Sorry about that.” I feel like I’m constantly apologizing for this world I’m from that treats Fable so terribly. It sucks.

  She shrugs. “Those types of girls always work at these type of stores. They don’t like me because they know I can’t afford anything in here.”

  “Whatever you want, I’m buying.” I want Fable to walk out of this stupid store with so many bags she can’t carry them all. Seriously. I see the way she eyes everything in here. She likes it. She’s trying to play nonchalant but this would be her type of store if she could afford it, I can sense it.

  “I only want a dress,” she says, her voice small.

  “And shoes,” I remind her.

  “Right. Shoes.”

  “Jewelry if you need it. Maybe a hair thing or something?” Fuck, I don’t know. I don’t pay attention to what girls need to get all dolled up.

  “I’ll figure something out. Meet me at the dressing rooms in fifteen minutes.” She offers me a sweet smile and it hits me like a blow to the chest, stealing the air from my lungs.

  I want to make her smile like that at me again. It was a real one. No put on cheesy grin for people watching or the fake you’re my hot boyfriend smile she gave me earlier with my dad. This smile was genuine.

  Genuinely beautiful.

  Fable wanders off in hot pursuit of the perfect dress. I wander the store, looking around. Starting to feel generally uncomfortable. I’ve never played this role before, attentive boyfriend ready to help his girlfriend pick out her new outfit.

  I’m looking forward to seeing her in something beyond the casual stuff she usually wears.

  “So Drew. Your girlfriend is a bit…different.” Kaylie’s back.

  Great.

  “How so?” I turn to look at her, seriously interested in her opinion. Why the hell is Fable so different? Hell, even I think so but I can’t put my finger on it as to why.

  Kaylie shrugs. “She doesn’t look like your usual type.”

  I never had a type. I never had a steady girlfriend in high school. I was too busy playing football and baseball. I had to choose one after I played both my freshman year in college as well. Talk about having no time to date.

  “How long have you two been going out?” Kaylie asks when I don’t say anything.

  “Since August, when school started.”

  “Oh.” Kaylie nods, nibbling on her lower lip. It’s a flirtatious gesture that does absolutely nothing for me. “You know, Drew, I always had a crush on you in high school.”

  Hell, I want to groan out loud but I hold it in. This is not going how I planned. I don’t want to deal with this shit. “Uh…”

  “You never noticed me, no matter how I tried. And lord knows, I tried.” Kaylie takes a step closer and runs her index finger down the center of my chest, lingering on the buttons of my Henley shirt. “Wow, you’re muscular.”

  “Kaylie.” I take a step back. “I have a girlfriend.”

  “Such a shame, too.” She’s pouting again and it sucks. If she thinks that’s cute she’s totally wrong. “I’ve always been the type to want what I can’t have.”

  That she just admitted it shows how crazy she is. “I need to go help my girlfriend. Talk to you later.”

  “Let me know if she needs anything!” Kaylie screeches at me as I walk away.

  Yeah, right. I’m going to keep this girl as far away from me as possible. I’m afraid Fable would’ve kicked her ass if she saw what Kaylie just did to me. How she touched me.

  Having a fake girlfriend brings
me a hell of a lot of unwanted attention.

  Fable

  After trying on a bunch of dresses for almost thirty minutes, I finally find the perfect one. It’s like I knew it would be perfect since I saved it for the very last. Drew is patiently waiting for me outside, the dressing room attendant having provided him with a chair and everything.

  I love coming out of the dressing room and showing him what I have on next. He sits there slouching in his chair, his big body sprawled all over the place, legs spread wide and a bored look on his too handsome face. I’m torturing him, I know it, but his gaze lights up every time he sees me, even if the dress is awful.

  And he’s honest too. I can appreciate that. The few that really were awful, he point blank said they were bad. So far he likes the first one I tried on best, and I know it’s a good choice but this one…the one I have on right now, is so beautiful it almost makes me want to cry.

  It’s also, at almost four hundred bucks, the most expensive one of them all. Guilt eats at me. I shouldn’t want it. It’s too much money. But oh my God, it looks soo good on me and I don’t like to brag but…yeah. As I told that stupid girl who knows Drew, my tits look great in it and they’re not all hanging out and too obvious either. Everything about this dress is understated, classy…

  Yet sexy.

  Taking a deep breath, I open the door and step out into the waiting area of the dressing room. There sits Drew in slouch mode, his gaze locked unseeingly on me. He blinks slowly and sits up straight, his eyes going wide as he drinks me in.

  “Damn,” he breathes and clears his throat.

  The smile that teases the corners of my mouth can’t be contained. I do a little twirl, imagining the super high heels I’d like to buy to go with this dress. I really don’t want to spend too much money on shoes, though. Maybe there’s a Payless Shoe Source close by or something.