Faking It: A Fake Girlfriend Romance

by Brother, Stephanie

  Instead of making a booty call, I took matters into my own head. I closed my eyes and touched myself, thinking of her chest in that dress at the bar. Then, I pictured her in the classroom, bending over so low that I could see half of her ass in those sexy panties. I replayed the memory of her flirting with me as she stood between my legs, begging me to do something about it.

  It didn’t take me long to relieve some of that pressure inside of me. Physically, I was taken care of for the time being, but it wasn’t enough. I needed the real thing or I was going to go crazy. Unfortunately, she was off limits. We completed our agreement, and now it was time to go back to our teacher-student relationship.

  Back on the couch, I decided that I wanted to see her. If I could restrain myself, I reasoned that it might help me diffuse the strong feelings of attraction to her. If I cut myself off, cold turkey style, I would surely lose my mind. Besides, if I asked her to come to my apartment, she would surely turn me down. I needed to frame it in a way that would seem totally harmless.

  I pulled out my phone and typed a few different drafts of the same sentiment, before erasing them and trying again. I wanted to take her somewhere nice for dinner, as a way to say thanks again. Then, I decided that dinner could be too sensual. There were always drinks involved, and when the lights went low, there was no telling how we would react. No, a dinner frequently ended with an invitation up to my place, something that was strictly off limits.

  Lunch was safe. We could sit outside on the patio, in the full daylight. It was starting to get quite warm outside. It might be a little romantic, but could also pass for a business function. Lunch was just one step above coffee when it came to non-sensual dates. That would be perfect. I could get my little fix, then make it through the rest of the weekend until I saw her in class. That could work.

  Would you be interested in going to lunch with me today? I can pick you up around noon and we can go to this new brunch spot girls your age love. Girls love brunch, right?

  I sat with my phone clutched in my hand, eagerly awaiting a response. My heart nearly leapt out of my chest when the device buzzed a few minutes later.

  If breakfast foods in the afternoon and day drinking is a girl thing, then I’m glad I’m a girl. I’ll see you around noon.

  I grinned and jumped up from my couch. It was clear that I was too excited about seeing this girl and that was a problem for me. But, it was a problem I would have to sort out this afternoon, once the high wore off.

  After she gave her response, I continued to second guess my choice. Should I have asked her to dinner instead? If we had dinner, there was a greater chance she’d end up in my bed. Forbidden, yes, but the forbidden pleasures were double the fun. Was there any conceivable way a brunch could end in passion? It seemed unlikely.

  One roll in the hay wouldn’t be a problem, right? A one-night stand could always be chalked up to having too much to drink, or just getting caught up in the moment. It was easy to walk away from a one-night stand. It was a mistake. Or, it was a lot of fun, but best if we didn’t do it again. Then, things could return to normal and I’d move on to my next infatuation.

  The issue was when it went beyond the one night. That’s when feelings could develop. I wasn’t too worried about getting attached, but I had a feeling Rebecca would. She was a sweet girl and I didn’t want to break her heart. I would have to when the time came, but I didn’t want to if I could avoid it.

  And, I didn’t want to get a taste if it meant I had to go back for more. The prospect of naughty afternoons in my office sounded appealing, but would only make things messy. No, I had to behave myself this one time.

  14

  Alex

  I picked Rebecca up in my Range Rover, no need for a driver this time. I nearly stopped along the way to her dorm to get her some fresh flowers, but that seemed a little too over the top for a friendly lunch outing. When I picked her up, she was wearing a cute, summery dress. Nothing too extreme this time. She looked like herself, which was just fine. I liked her just as much this way as I did in skin-tight clothing.

  When she got in the car, she took one look at me and frowned.

  “Something wrong?” I asked warily, afraid that I had already offended her somehow.

  “No,” she giggled. “I’ve just never seen you in anything less than a suit.”

  “Oh,” I replied, looking down at my jeans and quarter-zip combination. It was still designer, but certainly not my normal weekday look. “Do I look bad?”

  She rolled her eyes. “I don’t think you could look bad. Where are we going?”

  I started droving, leaving the campus. “It’s not too far from here. I’ll have you back to your studies at a decent time.”

  “Oh, don’t worry about it,” she replied, looking surprisingly relaxed. “I don’t have all that much to do this weekend.”

  “Have you finished your essay for my class?” I joked.

  “Actually, I just started it this morning. Do I still have to turn it in?”

  “I think it’s only fair.” I winked. I didn’t want to tell her that I wouldn’t hold it against her if she chose not to turn it in. “You don’t really have to spend that much time on it.”

  “No, I think you’re right,” she said. “If I’m going to win the internship contest, I want there to be solid proof for your choice.”

  I smiled. Sometimes, I swore she was smarter than me. If finance didn’t work out for her, she would make a great lawyer.

  When we got to the restaurant, I placed my hand on the small of her back and walked with her to our seat. She didn’t recoil at my touch—a good sign. I felt lighter just being around her, and warm when we touched. I was pathetic, but I was enjoying myself.

  After we ordered, we basked in the warm sunlight, drinking our beverages. She opted for the bottomless mimosas, while I agreed to get into the spirit of brunch and ordered a Bloody Mary. I teased her mercilessly for being such a stereotypical college girl when she took a picture of the dishes once they came out.

  “What were you like in college, then?” she asked, trying to challenge me. “I bet you were the stereotypical fraternity boy.”

  “I wasn’t in a fraternity,” I said. “I was in a student club.”

  “What’s the difference?” she teased.

  “Money,” I replied coolly. “We wore suits and drank fifty year old scotch. The people you’re referring to wear polo shirts and drink mystery concoctions out of a plastic cup.”

  She rolled her eyes. “You think you’re so superior. I bet you wouldn’t last a day as a normal person.”

  “You forget that we come from the same place,” I retorted. “I should be making the same jokes about you.”

  “We weren’t rich,” she said.

  “Then how did we end up on the same block?” I asked.

  She twiddled her thumbs for a second. “It’s probably from my dad’s life insurance and the settlement we got from the train company.”

  “Oh,” I said, suddenly regretting teasing her about that topic. “I didn’t know.”

  “Of course you didn’t,” she said apologetically. “It happened such a long time ago.”

  “I’m sorry for your loss.”

  “Thanks,” she said quickly. “You didn’t know me back then. My dad was the one who inspired me to get into finance. Who knows where we would have been if he’d survive the crash. Maybe we would have been next door neighbors.”

  I smiled at the thought. “I’m kind of glad we’re not, though,” I replied.

  “Me too,” she said earnestly. “I was kind of an awkward kid, and if you knew me back then, you wouldn’t want anything to do with me today.”

  “I don’t know about that,” I replied. “People can change.”

  “Have you?” she asked.

  I thought for a second. “Nah, not really.”

  We were halfway through lunch when my phone started ringing. I pulled it from my pocked and looked at the front screen.

  “It’s my d
ad.”

  “Answer it,” Rebecca replied. “It’s fine with me. I know my mom would want me to answer, or she’ll start assuming I’m dead.”

  I gave her an apologetic look and answered the call, wondering what my dad had to say. It wasn’t often that he called me. I figured it had to be somewhat important.

  “Hi, Dad,” I said.

  “What are you doing?” he asked.

  “Oh, just having lunch,” I said.

  “With a client? You shouldn’t answer the phone when you’re with a client.”

  “No, with a friend,” I said, giving Rebecca a wink. “What’s up?”

  “I’ll make it brief since you’re busy. I’ve met a fabulous woman and we want to get our families together to meet sometime soon.”

  “Yeah?” I asked, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “Are things getting serious? Is she The One?”

  “I’m very fond of her,” he said. “It would mean a lot to me if you met her.”

  “When and where?” I asked, trying to speed up the conversation.

  “Soon, I think. I will call your office sometime this week with details. I’ll leave word with your assistant.”

  “Okay,” I said. “I’ll talk to you later.”

  I hung up the phone with a long sigh and tucked it back into my pocket. Noticing Rebecca’s frown, I decided to fill her in on the family secret.

  “My dad wants me to meet his new girlfriend,” I groaned.

  “What’s so bad about that?” she asked.

  “Honestly, nothing—if it were the first or second time doing this. My dad falls in love too easily and too quickly. That’s why he’s been married five times.”

  She laughed. “Really? I thought you said your parents didn’t split up until you were older.”

  “You’re right. He’s managed to date, marry, and divorce women that quickly. I like to keep records. The shortest period of dating before the marriage was six weeks. That was with Monica. She had humongous tits, but she was a bitch.”

  Rebecca looked shocked at my answer, but continued to laugh.

  “The shortest marriage was with Kathy. They made it a week or so after the honeymoon and decided it wasn’t going to work.”

  “Why?” she asked.

  “Something about her only getting married to get back at her ex who never proposed to her. Technically, my dad was able to annul that one once they had proof of this. He got a mulligan and quickly moved onto another one.”

  “Were any of them any good?” she asked.

  “Oh, yeah, he fucked up a few good relationships. Obviously, I have to say that my mom was my favorite. Brenda comes in at a close second. She was an awesome cook and covered for me a few times when I got in minor trouble at school.”

  “You’re terrible,” Rebecca squealed, covering her smile.

  “Then, there was Megan. She was actually just a few years older than my brother. In fact, I think she even dated one of my brother’s friends back when he was in college. She didn’t last long and I didn’t really get to know her. But, I do know that she’s a lifestyle blogger,” I said, using air quotes.

  “Why do you say it like that?” Rebecca giggled.

  “Because all she’s doing is going on vacation with my dad’s money and taking pictures to post on her social media accounts. She’s not doing any actual work to get there. In fact, people are even paying her money to put on a swimsuit and splash around on a remote island and drink weight-loss tea that makes you shit yourself.”

  “It doesn’t sound like you liked that step-mother,” she said.

  I shuddered at the word. They were nothing close to mothers to me. I knew she was using the term as a joke.

  “I’m not saying that. I can’t really give my full impression because I didn’t know her that well. What I do know is that she married my dad, made him happy for a short period of time, then split with a bunch of his money.”

  “Oh,” she said. “That’s not cool. I’ve never experienced that. My mom doesn’t date a lot. She’s seeing someone now, but that’s really a rare event. She definitely has only been married once.”

  “You want to see your parents happy, but not at all costs. I wish my dad would slow down for once in his life. It really makes me want to avoid doing any of those things.”

  “What, get married?” she asked.

  “No, getting involved in a committed relationship. I work a lot. I like to have fun when I have time off. You can’t successfully do all of those things with a girl at home. It never works. My brother’s been divorced. My dad’s been divorced a bunch of times. Even my grandfather has been divorced. People get married because they think that’s just what you do when you get to a certain age. No one stops to think if it’s what they really want.”

  “Maybe you haven’t found the right woman,” she suggested.

  “You sound like my parents. No, I’m just going to make this one little area of my life simpler for myself. I don’t need to be weighed down by the stress of pleasing a woman.”

  “You don’t know how to please a woman?” she teased.

  She got me there. “You’re something else, you know that?”

  “Yeah,” she said boastfully.

  I wanted to scoop her up in my arms and kiss her right there, but it just wasn’t the right place or time. Instead, I finished my drink and asked the waiter for the check.

  As we waited to pay, I noticed that Rebecca kept giving me quick, covert glances. I wondered if there was food on my face or something, because I’d see her turn her head out of the corner of my eye, then turn back away once our eyes met.

  “You know, you’re under no obligation to hang out with me,” I said, finally catching her eye. “I’m not going to blackmail you into doing more of my favors if you don’t.”

  She shook her head. “I know that. I was actually getting pretty hungry when you called, and I was out of my instant noodles,” she teased. “Besides, I know you’re kind of a sketchy guy, but that might be what I like the most about you. You’re definitely not boring. And, I figure if we can talk business, that’s more of an education I’m getting at NYU.”

  “You like me, eh?” I pried.

  She tossed her wadded up napkin at me. “You know what I mean. I’m starting to think that your girl problems aren’t solely because of your dad’s penchant for getting married.”

  “No? Enlighten me, then.”

  She smirked. “I’m starting to think that you have a hard time keeping women around because you can’t help but ruin everything.”

  “How do I ruin everything?” I protested.

  “You like to mess with girls’ heads. You want them in your bed, but you don’t want to have to do any real boyfriend duties, like spend time with them or comfort them.”

  “And it’s worked out quite well for me,” I said, taking my credit card after the waiter returned.

  “You love to be a huge tease,” she said as we got up from the table and walked to my car.

  “Me?” I squawked. “What about you? You’re the one strutting her stuff around all the time. You’ve practically rubbed yourself against me in a classroom. I would think an academic like yourself would respect places of higher learning.”

  I went to open the car door for Rebecca, but kept my hand firmly on the handle, her body in between the car and me.

  “What about in public?” she purred, pressing her body up against mine.

  I looked around. “I’m fine with that.”

  I pushed her up against my car and kissed her, my hands on her hips. She kissed me back, her mouth gaped open and desperate.

  “Do you want to go—” I started to breathe.

  “Yes,” she whispered. “Let’s go to your place.”

  15

  Rebecca

  My heart was pounding as he took me by the hand and pulled me toward the elevator. Just a fraction of a second after the door closed behind us, Alex’s hands were up my skirt, pushing away my underwear as our mouths were firmly pressed
together.

  “Wait,” I breathed. “What if someone else gets in the elevator?”

  “I don’t give a shit,” he said as he began to touch me.

  I was a little nervous that we would be interrupted in a very embarrassing fashion, but after a few moments with his hands on me, I stopped caring too.

  To say that I had never done this before was an understatement. During my freshman year of college, I was fooling around with a boyfriend when his roommate came back to their shared dorm. It wasn’t as if we were caught in the middle of sex, but I was beside my boyfriend, stripped down to my bra. I was so horrified by the encounter that I avoided their room for the rest of our relationship, and avoided the roommate for the rest of my college career.

  Another time, I had brought a boyfriend back home to meet my mom during a school holiday break. We slept in separate bedrooms and made a deal that we would not do anything remotely sexual while I was home. I was a young woman, but I was never one to share the details of my private life with my mother. Sure, I could talk to her for hours about what was happening on a daily basis, but we didn’t have the relationship where I could talk to her about sex.

  On the second day of the visit, my boyfriend and I got a little too close when we were washing dishes together. I thought my mom went to her room, but had returned to the kitchen to get a glass of water. She saw my boyfriend and me making out by the kitchen sink and awkwardly cleared her throat to announce her presence. My face turned so red that I thought I would burst into flame. I hadn’t brought anyone home since then.

  Certainly, I had never done something so wild as have sex in a semi-public place. I was a private person and liked to keep things under wraps. But, Alex had a way of making me act like a completely different person. When I was with him, I felt like I could relax a little. I had to, to be anywhere near his permanently chilled-out level.

  “I want you so bad,” I moaned into his ear as we rose to the top of the building.

  “You’re going to get all of me in a second,” he purred back. With one swift motion, he unzipped his pants and pulled me on top of him, plunging into me. He propped me up against the back of the elevator wall, my legs startling him.