I clear my throat. “Now that you're here. I can deal with that. I mean, I do have a pretty strong right hand. Plus with winter coming, I don't really see a need to be out there dating.”
“Can you take this seriously, please? For once, in your life, Mason. I’m trying to do you a favor here. Remember?”
I wipe the slight grin off my face, because I am dead serious. “Of course, I remember. Clarissa, this is about my business and I’m going to take our agreement seriously. Honestly though, my question is, what about you?”
“What do you mean ‘what about me?’” She asks, furrowing her brow.
“I mean, you're willing to take yourself off the market for the time while we're starting the business?”
“Yeah, of course I’ll take myself off the market,” she says without hesitation. “Why wouldn’t I?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. Maybe because you are hot as hell and you’re going to be getting a lot of attention, especially at the bar. I can see it already. This whole thing came on so fast—I wouldn’t want you to feel like I’m holding you back. You’re hot and you’re what—twenty-four years old? Why wouldn’t you want to date?”
It pains me a little bit to ask this sort of question to Clarissa, but I don’t want her to resent me for taking her off the market, either. So we might as well put all our chips out on the table.
“Wow,” she nods.
“Wow what?”
“You just called me ‘hot,’” she grins.
“Well you are,” I shrug. “Don’t act like you’ve never had anyone call you ‘hot’ before.”
She puffs her chest out. “I don’t remember.”
“Well get used to it, baby.” I wink.
She closes her eyes for a few seconds, shaking her body as if she has the chills. “Anyways, I’m doing this with you, Mason. I’m all in on making this the winter of the successful bar opening of Firehouse. Whatever happens, I know this is going to be an adventure. And not dating other guys for the winter is a small price to pay.”
I put my hand on her shoulder. “You know you really are such a good friend. It's amazing that you're so good to me. I don't even understand it sometimes.”
“Well, you've always been good to me,” she says. “And it's the least I can do.”
I lean close across the table where we have the list from Clarissa's notepad. “Hey! You know I'm just joking about the nerd thing, right?” I say, running my hands over the notepad.
“No, you're not.” She rolls her eyes playfully.
“Okay, maybe I'm not,” I admit. “You’re the nerdiest girl I know. But I love the fact that you are so smart. You're like the sexy nerd who occasionally appears in my librarian fantasy.”
She lets out a laugh. “You have a librarian fantasy?”
“I do.” I give her a ‘well of course’ type of shrug.
“I didn’t expect you to be the type to fantasize about girls like that. I mean no offense, but what's the last book you read?”
I let out an indignant scoff. “I read...stuff.”
She puts her hands on her hips. “Really. What was the last book you read? Tell me the name of the author.”
I clear my throat. “I read a sports book. You know I think the Michael Jordan biography was pretty good.”
She laughs. “Sports Illustrated biographies don't count. And you still don’t even remember the name of the author even if it did count.”
“Damn it,” I frown. “Why do you have to know me so well?”
“It's okay.” She reaches and puts her hand on my wrist. “I don't mind, you're the brawn of this operation and I'm the brains. I kind of like that arrangement, actually. We both bring something to the table.”
Her smile is so sweet. And something about her voice. It's damn sexy but there's something else today. I don't know what draws me in.
“What's that smell?” I ask sniffing. “Is that…”
“My jasmine again. Probably.”
I lean in and smell her neck a little. “Amazing.”
The smell is intoxicating. It's like a fucking magnet or something. I'm losing control of myself. I need to pull back.
She gazes up at me, lips slightly parted.
They look so wet and glossy, so inviting.
I can't help it though. I lean in and so does she. We both close our eyes as our lips touch. It’s electric.
This kiss because this isn't a kiss for show. This is a kiss for me.
It’s good, but I want another.
I flash a cocky smirk as we open our eyelids post kiss.
“I think we can do better than that,” I growl, cupping her cheek.
Our lips meet again. She hums with enthusiasm, and a moan escapes her mouth. I can feel the vibrations of her vocal chords as she purrs.
“That’s better,” I say when we separate. "Baby, you taste so sweet."
“Do I?” she asks, gazing up.
“Yes you do,” I growl, running my finger along the tip of her chin. “It’s incredibly sexy.”
The ‘uh-oh’ bell goes off in my brain. We’re barely twenty-four hours into this, and we’re already blurring the lines between fake and real.
“You’re a great kisser,” she giggles.
“We are going to be convincing as hell as a couple,” I add.
“Oh, yeah. Practice. That was...practice.” She fidgets with her necklace.
“We have to look realistic when we kiss in front of Mrs. Crabtree tonight.”
“So, okay, yeah. I know. Are we done practicing for the day, Coach?” she says. She tilts her head. “Coach? Is that what I am?”
Her gorgeous blue eyes sparkle. And I gently grasp the back of her head, lean into her and kiss her again. It's like magic. She grabs my bicep and squeezes.
"Mm-hmm," she groans.
Our soft, tender kiss brings me back to that time years ago.
The time we had our first fake kiss.
The best fucking moment of my life.
12
Clarissa
You Can’t Fool the Kiss Cam
Homecoming Evening
As we file into the stadium, the buzz of thousands of fans, the smell of hot dogs and cotton candy and cheap beer take over. The team is taking the field.
The game is just getting started, and it's not quite dark yet. The sun is setting close over the golden horizon.
Even though the couple who let us in is nowhere to be seen, Mason still holds my hand. My heart beats with excitement. I like the way I feel next to him. Can't lie about that.
Mason is excited as we walk down the steps of the stadium, trying to figure out what number our seats are. “These are like really freaking good seats.”
“Like how good?” I ask as we descend down the stairs.
“Well, it says row five here,” he says, pointing to his ticket stub. "But row five is the first row because there is no row one by the dugout! Holy shit! We're right next to the dugout!”
My eyes widen and I grip his hand a little tighter. “Oh my God, this is so cool.” As we start to enter our row, we see the couple who gave =us the free tickets.
“Oh hey! You two lovebirds made it,” the woman says with a giant smile.
I blush. I don’t feel good about the lie, but it's just for one day so I guess we'll be okay. I can push through it, plus it’s nice to hold Mason’s hand.
As if he knows I’m having pangs of conscience, he grips my hand tighter.
The couple stands up so we can pass them to file into our seats.
“Thanks again so much for these tickets,” I say. “I’ve never sat in the first row.”
The woman and man smile at each other, and the woman continues. “Oh, Fred is just so happy today because it’s our oldest grandkid’s tenth birthday. In addition to our anniversary.”
“That's pretty cool,” Mason says, reaching his arm around me. “Beautiful night for a game.”
The first pitch is thrown and Mason and I make small talk. One of the things I neve
r realized about baseball is that it's a great sport to watch and chat. I always thought it was a boring sport.
“Jake Napleton is on the mound today,” Mason points out. “The dude is a beast.”
“He looks pretty grizzly,” I say as I watch the man's beard.
The players all look so big in real life.
I sit back, feeling at ease next to Mason. I love the way he holds my hand.
In between innings, a performer walks back and forth on the dugout right in front of us shooting out T-shirts with a T-shirt gun and toss some caps into the audience.
“Hey! Over here!” Mason yells.
One of the guys with the shirt gun hears and walks over to us.
“Hey! This one's for you sweetheart,” he says, tossing a cap my way. I put it on. And then put my hair through the back of the snapback in a ponytail.
“Holy shit,” Mason says.
“Holy shit, what?”
“You look fucking hot.”
“Really?” I say, taking out my phone I catch a glimpse of myself. “I think I look kind of nerdy and mousy.”
“Yeah, like a hot nerd mouse.”
I laugh. “A hot nerd mouse? Really.”
“Hot girls wear caps, it’s a fact,” Mason shrugs.
“What? Where did you figure this out?”
“It's just what hot girls do. Because they sometimes get tired of guys staring at them so they wear a cap to hide their beauty.”
“I don't get tired of guys staring at me,” I admit.
“Bullshit,” Mason calls, smirking.
“What do you mean bullshit?”
“You're just too nice to notice. Guys are staring at you all the time. Trust me.”
“They are?”
“Don't get me started. Guys love you.”
“I don't know about that.”
He furrows his brow and looks at me.
“What am I going to do with you, my nerdy, unobservant friend? You’re so busy reading and getting straight As, maybe you don’t notice the world around you.”
I smile at Mason. He's got a boyish, good-looking charm about him. His light blond hair shines as the sun sets, the reddish-light flowing over all of the stadium.
About midway through the game, we get up from our seats and take a walk around the stadium. Mason spoils me a little bit, buying us some cotton candy as we walk.
I take a bite and the sweet candy taste hits my tongue, reminding me of the very first baseball game I went to years ago.
I try to stop my eyes from welling up with tears, but when I think of my Dad I can’t help it.
Mason instantly recognizes my discomfort.
“Are you okay?” he asks, and his hand finds my back.
“Yeah,” I say as I wipe away a tear. “Fine.”
“Obviously you’re not fine. What’s going on?”
We stop walking for a moment. I look up at the giant green scoreboard, then back at Mason.
I take a deep breath. “My Dad died when I was ten.”
“I know,” he says. “I was at the funeral.”
“Oh duh. Well, one of my first memories is when my dad took me to a baseball game when I was four or five. I made him buy me so much cotton candy that when I got home, I felt totally sick.”
I smile through my tears. Mason’s hand climbs my back until he is raking it through my hair, grinning at me. I want him to keep touching part of me so badly, and I’m disappointed when he pulls his hand away.
“Your Dad was great. I remember when Cole and I used to play baseball with him before he got sick.”
I nod. “Thanks. We can keep walking. I just thought you should know why I was crying.”
“Thanks for sharing.”
As we walk along, my tummy rumbles. Mason makes fun of me, then gets me a hot dog.
Mason gets two.
“You can have a bite of mine, if you want,” he says.
I smile, and Mason demands I tell him why. I make up a lie about how it’s just nice to be here with someone who has known my Dad.
The truth is, his hot dog comment sounds kind of dirty. But I don’t want him to know I’m already thinking sexual thoughts about him after just one date.
Or, actually, a non-date. Since we’re technically just faking it.
As we finish walking around the stadium on the pedestrian platform, somebody hits a home run from the Astros, and the crowd goes wild. I smile, looking out on the game. My belly's full and my heart is full, too. I start to tingle as I realize I’m having much more fun than I would have at the dance.
“You look happy,” Mason says.
“Oh, I'm so happy right now,” I say as we walk. “This is so cool. This is so much fun.”
“Good. I like seeing you happy.”
I love the way Mason stares down at me. His blue eyes glimmer as the last of the natural sunlight is fading away. I turn my cap around because I need time to think about what I want to do next. "Badass," he says. “I like that look too.”
Without speaking, I lean over and kiss Mason on the cheek.
“Whoa,” he says. “What was that for?”
I give him an “I don't know” shrug.
“Thanks for taking me out,” I say. “You're like super cool.”
As soon as the words come out, I realize how awkward they sound out loud, and my stomach clenches.
“I am super cool.” He replies with a cocky smile.
“Okay, okay. Let's not go that far. Let's not go overboard.”
We head back to our seats, and file back in next to the couple who helped make this night happen for us. It's already the middle of the sixth inning. Time is flying by. And to be honest, I don't want this game to end. I want to sit here close to Mason. There's something about him that puts me at ease. I can't tell what it is. It's not one specific quality about him. There's a lot to like about a guy like Mason. I push my knee into his subtle touch. He doesn’t pull away. We make eye contact.
“Pshhh. Hey!” The woman next to me notices something, and says. “Look on the screen.”
I look at the big screen, and Mason and I are on the darn kiss cam. Mason sees it too.
He shrugs. “Showtime, Clarissa.”
He grabs my face and gives me the longest, deepest, hottest kiss I've ever had in my life. The crowd even gets into it, hooting and hollering as we go at it. I barely hear them though. I'm enjoying the feel of Mason's strong hand as he cups my cheek. After what feels like minutes, we let go.
When we’re done, the entire crowd is cheering for us, and giving us a standing ovation.
Even the players on the field are smiling and looking our way.
My face goes beet red.
The lady leans in. “You all just crashed the kiss cam. That’s what that was. Give me a high five.”
For the rest of the game, we sit even closer. There's an armrest of course, but Mason puts his hand on my leg. I link my arm around his.
I don’t know exactly what’s happening, but I’m just going to enjoy the night.
When the game ends, the man who gave us the tickets has one more comment for us as we’re walking up the stairs.
“You two look like you have something special. I can tell by the looks in both of your eyes. Cherish it.”
I swallow and my skin tingles a little. I want to ask this woman who she thinks she is, telling strangers about their relationship.
But the honest truth is, I know exactly what she’s talking about. I can feel it in my heart whenever Mason rubs his skin against mine and I tingle all over.
“Have a great night,” she adds, nonchalantly. “Drive safe getting home.”
“With cargo like this,” Mason says cocking his chin and putting his hand on the small of my back. “Of course, I'm going to drive safely.”
I roll my eyes a little bit.
“What babe?” he says. “You're precious.”
13
Mason
Think Before You Speak
Present Day
<
br /> A glimpse in the mirror confirms my outfit is on point tonight.
Million-dollar charming smile, check.
Tattoos poking out of the sleeves of my gray iron-pressed suit, check.
Chiseled jaw, check.
Well, okay, maybe I made that last one up because my giant beard is covering my face. But, if the world could see my jaw, it would be chiseled.
I’ll be honest. I don’t wear a suit that often, but tonight is an exception.
I think of Clarissa, wondering what dazzling outfit she’ll be wearing tonight. The possibilities make me smile.
One week ago, I would have never imagined that I would actually be taking a leap like this and opening up my own place. It's something that was in the back of my mind for years.
I grab my keys from their hook on the wall before I leave, and I hesitate, lost in thought.
In the span of just one week, my life has gone from simple and boring to exciting and boldly optimistic.
And if I don’t admit Clarissa’s role in that, I’m kidding myself.
I still find myself wondering: what’s in it for her?
Opening a bar doesn’t seem like her style. She has her master’s degree in social work. She’d rather help kids at school with behavior issues, not go into the restaurant business. Right?
Whatever her reason for helping me, I’m going to have to accept her gratitude and just go along for this wild ride of fake dating.
I take one more glimpse in the mirror before I leave and an idea strikes me. I snap a pic with my best cocky grin and send it over to Clarissa.
Clarissa: Wow! You are looking handsome tonight! :)
Mason: How about you? What's your wardrobe tonight?
She snaps me a pic back of her in a 1950s style dress with big white and black polka dots. She's got her big large frame glasses on and a goofy toothy grin as she looks into the camera.
Mason: My fake girlfriend is real life stunning ;)
Clarissa: Ha ha very funny
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