The Brooklyn Book Boyfriends

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The Brooklyn Book Boyfriends Page 65

by Kayley Loring


  “But you want to go to the resort, I mean—have you seen how gorgeous it is?”

  “Aimee sent me a link to the website. Of course it’s gorgeous. I’m sure I’ll go there someday.”

  “You want to go with Chase and Aimee and Matt and Bernadette.”

  “Yes, I do. I just don’t want to go with you.”

  “We’ll both be asleep for most of the time we’re alone together.”

  “I doubt that. They’re all going to want to spend time alone together as couples. That’s kind of the point.”

  “Not only. If that were the point, they would have all taken separate vacations.”

  She purses her lips and looks down at Jackpot, who’s still staring up at her and wagging his tail. She’s got nothing to say to that because she knows I’m right.

  “Aimee really wants you to go. I’m sure Bernie does too.”

  She looks off into the distance, at nothing in particular, just not at me.

  “I’m paying Vince for the cottage, and I will cover all of your travel expenses.”

  “I have money. I don’t need you to pay for my plane ticket.”

  “I know you don’t need me to pay for your plane ticket, Roxy. I’m offering to buy your plane ticket. There are no strings attached to the offer. I won’t expect anything from you, other than your usual charming and delightful company. No one will think any less of you because you accepted a man’s offer to pay for your travel expenses.”

  She fans her face. “Oh my God, I think I just swooned.”

  “Just go. Come on. I’m begging you. I appreciate that you have your principles and you know what you want and what you don’t want. But there is no ideal situation that I can create for you right now that will make you happy. However, I know for a fact that both of us will feel better about literally everything if you just go.”

  She blinks twice, and those words have the exact same effect on her as they did on Jackpot. “Isn’t there some other girl you can pay to pretend to be your girlfriend or something?”

  “Honestly, I don’t think it would be right to go with anyone other than you. None of us like the idea of you being here alone while we’re all out of town.”

  She scoffs at that. “I won’t be alone.”

  I sigh. Here it is: “Consider this my way of making amends. I don’t like the idea of you being mad at me for not calling you after Chase and Aimee’s wedding.”

  She narrows her eyes at me, and her fists go straight to those hips that are really fucking sexy, even though they’re completely hidden by a padded winter coat. “I thought I wasn’t allowed to be mad at you for that.”

  “To be clear, this does not mean that I believe you have a valid reason for being mad at me for this long. But whatever else I may be, I am a gentleman, and a gentleman always calls after…that kind of thing. No matter what. It was wrong of me not to. And I am apologizing for that now.”

  I can see the tension melting from her face and body.

  “Even though you’ve been an irrational stubborn asshole about it for over five years.”

  She rolls her eyes. “Dude. Know when to stop talking.”

  “I’m done.”

  She stares down at Jackpot again. “Why does he look so uptight?”

  “He hasn’t taken a shit yet today.”

  “Why not?”

  “He doesn’t like to go on the snow. I can’t make him.”

  She screws up her face at me, takes a step closer to Jackpot, uses her foot to clear snow away from a large patch of cement next to him, points to it, and says, “Jackpot. Do your business. Right now. Right there.”

  My dog makes a weird grumbly noise, steps over to the cleared patch, turns around a few times, squats, and lays a miracle turd while looking up at her.

  “Atta boy! Good boy!” she says.

  I would say the same, but I’m too stunned to speak. I pull the small bag from my pocket and pick up my dog’s perfectly formed poop with it.

  “Atta boy,” she says to me.

  I hand her the leash and walk over to the nearest trash bin. That did not make her the alpha in this relationship, but it did impress the shit out of both me and Jackpot. I guess I’m an idiot and an asshole for not thinking to clear away snow for my dog. Whatever. I would have figured it out eventually.

  When I return to Roxy, all I can say is: “You need to come with me.”

  “Yeah. Fine. I’ll go. But I’m not ‘going with you.’ I’m going to be with Aimee and Chase and Matt and Bernadette. I’m going to get out of this wintry cesspool of a city, and I’m going to get a tan. I’m going to that resort despite the fact that I will have to share a cottage with you.”

  “And a plane ride.”

  “We don’t have to fly together.”

  “We do have to give the impression of being a couple in public.”

  “Whatever. Just send me the information. I’m not sharing a bed with you.”

  “Fair enough.”

  “I’m not kissing you.”

  “Famous last words.”

  “I mean it.”

  “Fair enough.”

  She looks down at Jackpot, who hasn’t stopped staring up at her like he’s madly in love. “Who’s gonna look after this guy?”

  “He stays at a really great dog hotel when I’m out of town. No kennels. He likes it there.”

  “I bet. I’m sure he’s thrilled to get a break from you.”

  I hold out my hand for her to give the leash back to me. She places the handle in my palm and crouches down to rub my dog’s head. “It was nice meeting you, Mr. Jackpot.”

  He barks at her. A not at all subtle plea for her to take him with her.

  “Sorry, buddy,” she says as if she understood him. “I’m not allowed to have dogs in my building, so I’m afraid you’re stuck with this guy.”

  “I’m a good dog dad,” I say a little too defensively. “He just doesn’t like me yet.”

  She stands up again. “How long have you had him?”

  “Couple of years. We gotta go. I’ll be in touch. What color’s your bikini? We should coordinate.”

  She flips me the bird as she heads back inside.

  “Right. Surprise me. I’ll bring shorts in all the colors.” I tug on Jackpot’s leash and start to walk away before I get too caught up thinking about what that woman looks like in a bikini. “Come on, boy.”

  “Go home, Jackpot!” Roxy orders, staring at my dog and pointing at me.

  Jackpot whines, but he obeys her. I don’t look back because I don’t need to see the smug look on her pretty face. I expect to get an eyeful of that look and everything else for one week straight.

  I also don’t look back because I can’t stop smiling and she does not need to know that.

  4

  Keaton

  Today’s the day.

  I feel like I’m getting ready to go to summer camp to see my friends, except instead of sharing a cabin in the woods with a bunch of farting adolescent boys, I’ll be in a cottage on an island in the West Indies with a blazing hot woman who despises me. And instead of saying good-bye to my parents (one of whom might actually miss me), I’m saying good-bye to a dog whom I know for a fact will not miss me.

  I know this because I’m trying to say a heartfelt good-bye to him before going to the office for a meeting, but he’s way too busy saying “hi” to the owners of the dog hotel to notice.

  “Okay, bye, buddy.” I rub his back, and he barks happily at the nice lady who’s now holding his leash. I tell her I’ll check in with them tonight, I ask her to send pics and videos, I say good-bye to Jackpot one more time just in case he didn’t hear me the first couple of times, and then leave before I really embarrass myself.

  Manny is double-parked outside, and just as I’m getting into the car, I get a call from Chase.

  “Hey. Shouldn’t you be on a plane right now?”

  “We’ll be boarding soon. Just calling to remind you that if you fuck around with my wife’s best
friend, I will castrate you.”

  “That is so sweet of you to remind me. Define fucking around.” I signal to Manny that he can drive.

  “Any kind of penetration of any part of her body with any of your body parts. Including the metaphorical penetration of her heart.”

  “I can’t help it if people fall madly in love with me when I’m not even trying to be charming. Define castration.”

  “The slow and painful removal of your testicles.”

  “You’re so literal. Does Aimee know you’re making this call?”

  “I mean it. I’ve seen the way you check her out.”

  “How does Aimee feel about it? Because I bet she’d be thrilled if we got together.”

  “In what world are you and Roxy going to get together? I’m saying don’t hook up with her, don’t be a dick to her, don’t be too nice to her, don’t forget that you’re just pretending to be her boyfriend for the sake of the hotel staff and the other guests, and you are in no way obligated or allowed to pretend to be her anything when you’re in the room alone together.”

  “I’m not ‘allowed?’ Put Aimee on.”

  “Trust me, if you fuck with Roxy, you will be begging me to protect you from Aimee.”

  “Did it ever occur to you that Roxy might want me to penetrate one or more of her parts?”

  He’s quiet for a moment, and I know he’s squeezing his phone, and I think I can hear the steam shooting out of his ears.

  “I’m just messing with you, asshole. I have no intention of fucking with Roxy. We’re oil and water.” As soon as I say the words “oil and water,” I picture myself in the shower with a tanned, naked, oiled-up Roxy Carter—but that doesn’t mean I’m going to fuck with her. That means I’m a straight human male. “So don’t even worry about it. We’re both just going because we want to hang out with you guys. Although right now I’m trying to remember why I’ve missed hanging out with you so much.”

  “Yeah, it’ll be fun. I’m glad you’re going. I just had to say it so we’re clear. We’ll see you there. Safe flight.”

  “You too. See you there.”

  Chase “Straight No Chaser” McKay. That guy. We used to work together. Well, I guess, technically I worked for him when I was the CFO at his legal tech startup, but I was his first investor and I was on the board, so we were pretty equally weighted in terms of power as far as I was concerned. We have long since sold SnapLegal for ten times my initial investment, and he started a thriving business with his wife and I became a full-time venture capitalist. So he’s not the boss of me. At all. But I’ve always liked that he’d give it to me straight, ever since college. It’s why he’s my best friend. I just like it less when we’re discussing my personal life, and I like it very little right now. But he’s not wrong. And I have no intention of fucking with Roxy.

  I don’t even have to wonder if anyone’s giving her the same warning.

  They aren’t.

  By the time I get to my office and my assistant has handed me the notes for my meeting, I pull out my personal phone and see a few messages on the lock screen from my Friends group. They’re probably all at the airport now, except for Roxy and me. Vince, Nina, and Joni are going to Indiana. Aimee, Chase, Bernie, and Matt are all flying out to Antigua together. I couldn’t get Roxy and me onto the same flight as our friends because I couldn’t justify rescheduling my morning meeting. Yet another reason for Roxy to be mad at me.

  AIMEE MCKAY: I would just like to officially announce in text form how happy I am that Roxy and Keaton are finally a couple!

  BERNIE FARMER: #ROXTON4EVA

  ROXY CARTER:

  NINA DEVLIN: Roxy and Keaton sittin’ in a palm tree…

  VINCE DEVLIN: F-A-K-I-I-N-G. Yes I know I spelled it wrong.

  CHASE MCKAY: Congrats and keep your hands to yourself, KB

  ME: What, these hands?

  AIMEE MCKAY: Awww, their emojis match!

  BERNIE FARMER: Do you have any thoughts on the matter that you’d like to share with the group, dear husband?

  MATT MCGOVERN: I’m literally sitting right next to you, darling wife. Why don’t you just ask me with your sweet voice?

  BERNIE FARMER: Because you’re staring at your phone. This is how Matt feels about it, you guys:

  MATT MCGOVERN: I am in fact delighted by and for the adorable fake couple.

  ROXY CARTER: I hate all of you.

  ME: Oh honey, you don’t mean that.

  ROXY CARTER: Especially you, Bridges.

  AIMEE MCKAY: So cute. We have to board now guys. See you there!!!!!

  I cannot fucking wait to get some quality time with those people.

  Now I just have to get Oiled-up Shower Roxy out of my head before I go into my meeting and before I pick her up in a couple of hours.

  I have not been able to get Oiled-up Shower Roxy out of my head for the past two hours. I don’t even know what I said in that meeting, and I’ve already forgotten who I was meeting with. My brain is a dick. All of a sudden, I’m glad it’s so cold in New York, because Roxy emerges from her building all covered-up with winter clothes. Layers of clothes. So many layers of clothes between me and her naked, probably not oiled-up or wet body.

  I step out of the back seat of the car, and I’m greeted with a classic frown.

  “Good day,” I say.

  “Good day,” she mutters.

  When Manny comes around to take her luggage, she presents him with all of the warmth and smiles that she’s withholding from me.

  “You got your passport?” I ask.

  She rolls her eyes.

  “It’s a valid question.”

  “An eye roll is a valid answer. Do you have your passport?”

  I smile. “Yes, I do. Thank you so much for asking.” I gesture for her to get into the back seat. She smells like cocoa butter. I wonder if she’s already wearing suntan lotion. I wonder if she’s wearing a bikini under there. Maybe she’s planning on stripping down to her bikini as soon as we land in Antigua. That seems like the kind of thing Roxy would do.

  I am so fucked.

  I get into the car and keep my eyes straight ahead for a good five minutes, I’d say. At first Roxy is typing on her phone, and then I can see out of the corner of my eye that she’s watching me not look at her. She is amused. She is such a jerk.

  “How’s it going over there?”

  “Fine. Have you been to Antigua before?”

  “No. Have you?”

  “No. But I’ve been to St. Barts, the Caymans, Turks and Caicos.”

  “Of course you have.”

  “And you? Have you been to any of the Caribbean islands before?”

  “I have not yet had the pleasure, no.”

  “Really?”

  “Why is that so surprising?”

  “They’re so close to the East Coast.”

  She shrugs. “I like Florida.”

  I roll my eyes and say nothing.

  She snorts. “Do we not approve of the Sunshine State? I thought rich white people liked the art scene and the party scene down there.”

  “I’ve never been all that into art or partying.” I glance down at the leather messenger bag by her feet and see that she’s brought her laptop. “You planning to do some work while you’re there?”

  “A little. Aren’t you?”

  “A little.”

  I look out the window and continue to think about Oiled-up Shower Roxy because I have completely lost control of my fucking brain and she just smells like she wants to be naked. That cocoa butter is sexually assaulting my olfactory system. I can feel her watching me and smirking. I am quite certain that she knows I’m having sex thoughts and that it amuses her. She is the worst fake girlfriend ever, and I just want to stick my head under her shirt for five minutes and then I’m done. It’s out of my system.

  She’s not even my type.

  I mean—Roxy Carter is every man�
��s type.

  But she’s not my type.

  She’s made it perfectly clear that I’m not her type.

  Everyone we know has made it clear that I’m not her type.

  I am well aware of the fact that I still have a tendency to long for the women I know I can’t have.

  So I won’t dwell on her.

  This trip isn’t about her.

  It’s definitely not about showering with her.

  “Wow, you are an even more fun travel companion than I expected you to be.”

  I do not look over at her when I say, “I thought you would appreciate it if I gave you some space.”

  “I do, thanks! And I’d really appreciate it if you’d figure out a way to be a little less obvious when you’re having pervy thoughts about me, because it’s creeping me out.”

  I slowly turn to glare at her. “Trust me, it’s unpleasant for me too.”

  “I’m not having sex with you.”

  “I’m aware of that.”

  “So pull it together and think about something else.”

  “You know what, just keep talking. Every word you utter is like a bucket of cold water being tossed on my pants.”

  “Did you just say the word ‘utter’ out loud? You are so pretentious. I do not utter words.”

  “You’re right. I meant ‘spew.’”

  “You know what—let’s go back to not talking.”

  “Fantastic idea.”

  “I’m sure I’ve sufficiently uttered enough boner-reducing words already.”

  “I did not have a boner—I’m not eleven—and yes, you have.”

  She yanks her scarf off her neck, angrily unzips her coat, and takes it off in a way that is both violent and somehow really fucking sexy and also evil because now I have to look at her in a really thin cardigan over a tight black top.

  Hello!

  Perhaps someone should not have removed her coat if she didn’t want to reveal just how aroused she is right now.

  “Warm in here,” she says.

  Really? Because you look a little cold to me, Roxy Carter.

  “How long until we get to the airport?”

 

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