World's Worst Boyfriend: A Romantic Comedy Adventure (Fake It Book 3)

by Carina Taylor

  I yelped when Fletcher lifted me off the counter and set me on the ground.

  “I don’t want you to hurt yourself. Why don’t you use that step stool I bought you?” He pointed to where it leaned against the side of the fridge.

  Out of habit, I grabbed two mugs from the cupboard and set a tea bag in each one.

  “Where’s your car?” I asked again, not wanting to acknowledge his desire to keep me safe—or the warm, fuzzy feeling it invoked in me.

  “I parked on the other street and walked down the alley,” he said as he pulled the honey jar from the cupboard and set it next to the teapot.

  “Why didn’t you want me to see you parked here?” I asked as I took the spoon he passed me.

  “It wasn’t you I was worried about,” Fletcher mumbled. “Now, who dropped you off?”

  I poured the water into the cups, adding honey from the jar. “Sullivan. The same man you were doing a job for the other day. Remember him?” The sarcasm rolled off my tongue like the honey off the spoon.

  “I saw him talking to you at the restaurant. How did you two originally meet?” Fletcher ground out through a clenched jaw.

  “Why does it matter?”

  “Because it does. And you let him give you a ride home. Do you have any idea how unsafe it is to climb into the car with a stranger?” His voice was climbing steadily.

  “Quit treating me like a child, Fletcher. I’ve known him for a couple weeks. I was tired of being at the restaurant with the girls. I wanted to go home. Sullivan was kind enough to bring me.” I pulled my phone out of my pocket to check my messages. Zoe hadn’t texted once. She’d probably found a date to spend the rest of the night with.

  I passed Fletcher a mug of tea, then took mine to go sit in my comfy papasan chair.

  “So, you met this man a couple weeks ago?”

  “Yes, actually right before we broke up. It was on Grandmother’s birthday night.”

  He scowled. “Wait—back up. How did that happen?”

  “Why do you care?”

  “Didn’t you say you’d like to be friends even after we broke up?” He baited me with a snarky smile.

  “I’m regretting that already.”

  “Spill.” He sat down on the couch across from me, sipping his tea.

  “My car broke down on the way home from the birthday party. I tried calling you several times. You didn’t answer. Big surprise. Sullivan happened along and helped me get a tow truck. He gave me a ride home so I wouldn’t have to spend the night on a deserted road.”

  Fletcher set his cup down on the coffee table with a loud thump. He didn’t even use a coaster.

  He stood up and began pacing.

  “You got in the car with a strange man not once, but twice? What were you thinking?” He raged back and forth. “You should have called me!” I plastered myself to the papasan. This was not a side of Fletcher I’d ever seen before.

  I’d seen calmly annoyed. Mildly upset. Frustratingly unflappable. But I’d never seen this veritable rage monster walking on my white rug with his outdoor shoes.

  “You could have been murdered!” He bellowed. “Sullivan’s bad enough, but what if it had been someone even worse!”

  He looked like he was about to punch my textured wall. I stood up, setting my teacup on a coaster next to the World’s Worst Boyfriend trophy I’d decided to display on my mantel. I was ready to face this stranger in my home, if only to save my rug.

  “You knock it off, Fletcher. Like I said, I tried to call you multiple times that night and…You. Didn’t. Answer! We’re not together anymore! You don’t get to lecture me on safety!”

  “Oh, I don’t?” He spun around and faced me, moving close enough that I could feel the heat radiating off of his body. Towering over me, his clenched jaw ticking with his pulse. “I will lecture you whether you broke up with me or not. You know why? Because I care. Because no matter if you think we’re done, I’m not done loving you. And I hope you live to be as old as Glamma.”

  “Stop calling her that!” I shrieked. A little tender that Grandmother preferred Fletcher over me—not that I’d expected anything different from the woman. “I know you’re only mentioning her to get a rise out of me.”

  He leaned down to whisper in my ear. “Is it working?”

  I shoved his chest. “No, it’s not. Now back off. And take those shoes off. You’re going to stain my carpet.”

  He took a step back and toed off his tennis shoes, kicking them back toward the front door.

  “You’re a caveman, you know that? I’d never realized. I thought you were a mild-mannered IT guy. No, turns out you’re a grumpy beast who wears his shoes in the house and flies off the handle when he finds out his girlfriend, no, ex-girlfriend, rode with a stranger late at night!”

  I planted my hands on my hips and glared at him. All right, admittedly, it did sound bad even to my own ears.

  “Do you even hear yourself?” He whipped his hat off and threw it on the couch. “A stranger!”

  “You know why I broke up with you?” I took a step toward him.

  “Because you wanted to be treated like a spoiled little princess? Like that magazine said?” He flung his hand through the air in a mocking gesture of a princess parade wave.

  “Ooh,” I fumed before I ground out, “I am not a violent person. But I could happily smack you right now!”

  He held his arms out to the side. “Have at it, princess.”

  “You make me so mad, I could just—”

  I lifted my hand, then stopped myself. I couldn’t believe Fletcher would try to encourage me to behave that way.

  “No. Even though I feel like it, I’m not going to hurt you.”

  “That’s exactly why you shouldn’t ride with strangers. You’d let them murder you without raising a hand because you believe in being nice—all the time. I don’t think you could even kill a fly since you’re a spoiled little princess who needs attention twenty-four-seven.”

  Leaping forward, I smacked him in the stomach. “I am not a spoiled little princess!”

  I slapped at his chest. “I can ride with strangers if I want! I can break up with my boyfriend if I want!”

  I stomped on his foot.

  “Ah, there’s your grandma’s temper…” he said with a groan as he leaned forward.

  “I am nothing like that woman! And you’re the one who was making out with a strange girl in your car! I have every right to be mad.”

  I shoved him, and he latched onto me before we both toppled onto the couch. His arms came around me, holding me tight to his chest. I struggled to break free, but he pinned my arms between us, my hands flattened against his ribs.

  “What are you talking about? You’re the only one I’ve kissed ever since I first saw you!” His incredulous face was nearly believable.

  “The girls saw you. They saw you with her.”

  “The girls?”

  “Yes. Zoe.”

  He let his head fall back against the couch cushion. “This is ridiculous. You’re going to believe the word of a girl who hates my guts?”

  “You don’t like her either!”

  “No, I don’t! I think she’s shallow and that she shamelessly uses you!”

  “Oh,” I snorted. “You’re a fine one to talk, Mr. drop-your-laundry-off-here.”

  His arms tightened around me. “We’re getting off topic here. You have to promise me you’ll never get in the car with a stranger, ever again. Don’t go with Sullivan anywhere.”

  I lifted my head and rested my chin on his chest so I could stare into his eyes. “You’re not my boss.”

  “Good grief, you sound like you’re three years old. Promise me, Saidy.”

  “What’s it matter to you anymore, anyway?”

  He pressed a kiss to my forehead. “Despite what you think, I’m not a complete asshole. I care about you, and I want to keep you safe. I lost my mind when I found out you got in the car with him. Promise me you won’t get in the car with a stranger?”


  I sighed. Unfortunately, the rational part of my brain agreed with him.

  “I promise.” I agreed. He was right about that part. The warning bells had sounded in the back of my mind during the whole situation. I’d watched enough TV to know a girl without any means of protection should not climb into the car with a complete stranger at eleven o’clock at night.

  Fletcher relaxed beneath me, a hand reaching up to toy with the hair at the base of my neck. “Thank you. I don’t know what I would do if anything happened to you.”

  I stared into those steel gray eyes, wondering why I couldn’t get them to leave my dreams at night.

  “Promise me you won’t see Sullivan again.”

  I pushed at his chest. “I appreciate you caring about my safety, but you don’t get to determine who I see and don’t see. He asked me to dinner. You don’t get a say so anymore about my life.”

  “You keep reminding me.” His hold tightened on me. “Fine. You can date anyone you want.”

  I relaxed against his hold. “Thank you.”

  “Except Sullivan.”

  I shrieked in frustration, wriggling, trying to break free from his hold. IT men weren’t supposed to be this strong.

  “Let me go, Fletch.”

  “Not until you promise me you won’t go on a date with Sullivan.”

  “I promise nothing,” I spat out.

  “Fine.” He scooted to the middle of the couch, keeping a firm grip on me. “I hope you sleep good tonight.”

  He locked his arms together around me as he settled into the couch, trying to get comfortable.

  “You son of a motherless goat! You are not going to dictate my dating life to me. You don’t get to say—”

  He grabbed the back of my head and pressed my face against his chest, muffling my words. I bit him.

  “Ouch!” He released my head. “I never knew I was dating someone so violent.”

  “Me, violent? This is what you’ve made me! I didn’t know you were so controlling.”

  “First, I’m neglectful…now I’m controlling. I see.” He shrugged with a little smile across those perfectly kissable lips and lay his head back down.

  After a futile struggle, I decided I might as well get comfortable. As comfortable as I could get lying on top of a hard body.

  When his breathing finally deepened and his hold on me loosened, I was able to lean up a little. I studied his peaceful, sleeping, stupid face. His ability to fall asleep anywhere should be envied.

  There were dark circles under his eyes. His forehead had a semi-permanent crease along the middle. His mouth had frown lines along it. His scruff was thicker. The stress lines were evident on his face. He seemed older than when we first started dating, as though the weight of life were crushing him instead of me.

  “Why do I feel like I’m seeing the real you for the first time?” I whispered. I leaned up and gently combed down his cowlick. It felt good to have him holding me again. I’d missed this.

  His hold was loose enough to break away.

  But I didn’t want to. I could pretend—for one night.

  Pretend that things were perfect and that I meant more to him than life itself.

  So I lay my head back on his chest and went to sleep.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Fletcher

  Morning came and I found myself asleep on Saidy’s couch. Alone. I hadn’t been able to squeeze a promise out of her. But she had tucked me in with one of her numerous fuzzy blankets. There was a plate with bagels and cream cheese sitting on the coffee table with a glass of orange juice.

  She would already be at work at this time. My work, however, had taken on an all-new set of hours.

  There was a new hire coming into town. That was who Sullivan was meeting at the restaurant the night before and who I was trying to catch a glimpse of from the “employees only” area. I would meet the new guy soon enough because Sullivan wanted me there to help run a background check on him. With the auction coming up, and Sullivan moving another truckload of art to the warehouse, he was being extra careful about who he hired.

  I spent a ridiculous amount of time covering my tracks while trying to follow theirs. Sullivan was as suspicious as they came, and I considered it a miracle he hadn’t figured out my farce yet.

  My skills were being tested to their limits.

  The night I’d fallen asleep and left Saidy at the Italian restaurant, I’d spent the previous evening trying to redirect a shipment from their warehouse. That one had required a little more than my typical IT cover. It had taken an impersonation, a mad sprint through the woods, and an angry dog. By the time I’d gotten back to Saidy’s, I was exhausted. I figured she wouldn’t mind if I waited for her on the couch. Unfortunately, I fell asleep and she had already gone to the restaurant.

  Or there was the time before that, when I swapped out boxes of clean, stolen money with marked bills. That had involved an underground sewer. That had not gone well. I’d had to cancel our date, because no matter how many times I showered, I couldn’t seem to get rid of the smell.

  Yes, there was no doubt in my mind that my job played a big part in my neglecting her. But I couldn’t help but wonder what she would think of me if she knew the truth.

  Even right now, when she was angry at me, she was still sweet and thoughtful. Wrapping me up in a blanket and making me breakfast. I knew I would never find anyone else half as amazing as her. I didn’t want to find anyone else. I wanted her. I only hoped I’d be given a chance to win her back. To learn from my mistakes and improve.

  Looking at it from her side, I could see where she was upset, and even felt as though I didn’t care about her. Unfortunately, there was nothing I could do about my work schedule for right now. I had a black-market dealer to catch and I couldn’t just drop the case.

  I pulled out my phone and sent her a text.

  Fletcher: Thanks for the bagel.

  It registered as read, but she didn’t reply.

  Fletcher: Please don’t ride with strangers.

  Saidy: Please don’t break into my house anymore. P.S. Get your feet off my coffee table.

  I glanced around, convinced she was still in the house watching me. She wasn’t. But I pulled my feet off the coffee table anyway. I wasn’t about to risk the wrath of Saidy again. I needed a helmet and football pads for that.

  My phone rang. Shockingly, it wasn’t my work phone. I glanced at the screen, confident that it was not Saidy.

  It was her grandma. The woman had been incessant in calling and texting me to find out if Saidy and my relationship status had changed.

  “Hello, Glamma,” I answered.

  “Did she take you back?”

  She could be an abrupt woman when she wanted to be.

  “You know, I’m beginning to think you and her are more alike than you’d like to admit.”

  “Never.” She bit out. “But I do care about her. And I like you. I don’t want to see her being a miserable failure. Look at her mother.”

  “What about her mother?”

  “She threw away her life to raise her family.”

  “Terrible woman,” I muttered dryly under my breath.

  “I heard that, young man. If you want to be able to come to bridge night again, you’ll watch your tone.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” I stood up and stretched, then carried the bagel plate into the kitchen.

  “Well, I’m waiting for a full report.”

  “I’ve tried to talk to her,” I said as I rinsed off the plate and stuck it in the dishwasher.

  “And how did that go for you?”

  “Not so great.”

  “And did you try making her mad like I suggested?”

  I didn’t answer as I slipped on my shoes. She’d been texting unhelpful suggestions ever since we broke up.

  “A-ha! You did! And it worked, didn’t it?” Her gloating made me flinch.

  “Fine, yes. She got mad and it wasn’t the worst thing.” I thought back to the fire in h
er eyes when I’d told her not to get in the car with strangers. Ironically, I hadn’t even had to pretend to be mad. I was mad. She simply reacted in kind. And then she let me hold her when I pretended to be asleep. She chose to stay snuggled against my chest.

  It was all I could do to not crow with victory. She didn’t despise me like I’d originally thought.

  But now I had my work cut out for me.

  “Now, if you just keep yourself in the front of her mind, she won’t let another man get to her,” she advised.

  “You sound strangely devious.”

  “Despite what I tell her, she’s a beautiful girl.”

  “It doesn’t hurt that she’s kind, incredible, hard-working, and smart either…”

  “Tsk,” her hiss hit my ear, making me pull the phone away. “I’ve got to run. I’m going to be late for brunch. I’m expecting a report from you soon. You are the only one of my grandchildren’s partner’s I can stand. You’re not allowed to desert me.”

  With that, she hung up the phone.

  Shaking my head, I shoved my phone back into my pocket and locked the door before I stepped outside. I pulled the door until it latched, and then I checked the doorknob. A good jerk had the door popping open again.

  I double-checked to make sure the lock had actually turned. It had but seemed to be loose. I didn’t have time to find out if it was a frame or hardware issue. I had to go meet with West before I went to Sullivan’s.

  I’d have to come back to replace everything. There was no way I was going to let her spend the night in a house with a lock as flimsy as that.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Saidy

  The Barre was the only barre studio in the county, which was why the name was so generic. There wasn’t a need for anything fancy or trendy with zero competition.

  They’d been open for a year, and now that they knew they would make it as a business, they were ready to decorate the space thoroughly.