by Sarah Skye
Lily.
“Thank you,” she breathes as recognition dawns in those eyes.
I grin for the first time that night. “Hey.”
“Hey.” She’s still all breathy, but there’s no mistaking the delight in her expression. Alcohol is partially to blame based on the spots of pink on her cheeks, but it only makes her more lovely.
“You okay?”
She blinks hard and nods with a glance behind her. “Um, yeah. Just had to get away for a second.”
“You look like you’re escaping.”
“Er, kind of, yeah. I’m at a bachelorette party.”
“A bachelorette party?” Did she tell me her plans for the weekend? Is that where I got that excuse for Nate? I scan my memory of our last interaction, fairly sure she hadn’t. Still, a hell of a coincidence.
“Mm-hm, a very unpleasant one.”
Because she releases her grip on me and is clearly stable, I have no excuse for holding onto her any longer. Because I’m not a creep, I drop my hands and step back. And, because I am a man, I can’t help the walk my gaze takes over her body in that tiny dress.
Lily isn’t tall, but those heels give her legs for days. Her skirt is so short I doubt she’s been able to sit down much all night. And her neckline, dear god. Her breasts swell invitingly over that pink velvet. The tiny pink straps on her shoulders serve no function other than to underscore the idea that her body is barely contained by the dress.
Bubble gum sex, that’s what she is tonight. Pink velvet is hardly my thing, but goddam is my mouth watering.
She catches my appraisal and tugs at the hem of her skirt. “That’s why I’m dressed like this. Bride’s orders.”
“Tell the bride I like her daring, but her color palette could use a bit of tweaking. Unless you fancy the pink, in which case I’m on board.”
“Oh, stop it. I look like a gas station hooker, and we both know it.”
My lascivious thoughts scatter. A laugh bursts from me, and she grins. I shake my head and reach for a long gulp of my beer. When I turn back, Lily’s eyes snap guiltily up to my face—clearly she’d been doing her own appraisal while I wasn’t looking. I quirk a brow. “Like what you see?”
She fidgets with her hem again as her gaze drifts to my shirt. “Nice suit, but I notice you’re a little undone.”
Her tongue darts out to wet her lips, and my brows hit my hairline. Tipsy Lily is a bit flirty, and I’m all in on it. “Suppose I am. Care to do me up a bit?”
She laughs even as she goes bright red, one hand over her mouth to hide a nervous giggle. “Oh, um, well sure.”
I laugh softly, and she steps forward. Her nails aren’t painted—odd, I’d expected them to match her dress—but none of that matters. She’s so close I can smell her shampoo. I inhale the sweet scent while she buttons my shirt and does her best to straighten my tugged-out collar.
“Is that better?” I murmur when she’s done and her hands are resting lightly on my chest.
“Yeah.” She lifts her head, and I let my palms find her hips. Her pupils dilate. She startles at first but then leans into my touch.
“What were the odds I’d see you here tonight?” I ask.
“Given that the universe seems to enjoy putting me in the most awkward and ill-timed situations it can dream of? Pretty high, I’d guess.”
“This doesn’t feel awkward to me, Professor Lily. But if you’re uncomfortable, I can leave you alone.”
Her hips sway into mine, and I fight off a moan. “For the first time today, I’m not uncomfortable.”
Fuck, I want to kiss her. I know she’s a little drunk and should get back to her girls, but fuck do I want to taste those lips. “Look, I know we have a professional arrangement and all, but—”
“Lily!”
She leaps away, whirling again too fast, and grips my arm for stability even while she turns to face a fellow girl in pink. This one is wearing a dramatically concerned expression. She grips Lily’s arms and shakes her head.
“Honey, Harmony didn’t mean to be rude. She’s just drunk and nervous about getting married, you know how it is. Well, you don’t, that’s kind of the point—shit, girl, I didn’t mean that to sound bad either. Just, we all think it’s so, so brave of you to come out and be part of your ex’s wedding festivities. But Harmony is super glad you’re here and that you’re coming to the wedding, even if you don’t have a date—which is no problem, of course. Please don’t be mad at her, Lils.”
Wait. What in the actual hell? I scratch my head and try to muddle out what this emphatic rambling means.
Lily sighs and gently unclasps the woman’s grip from her wrists. “I get it, Brittany. I’ll join you guys in a second, just going to hit the ladies’ room first.”
Brittany beams and hugs her tight. “Girl, you are just so the best. Okay, but hurry back or we’ll come looking for you!”
She spots me over Lily’s shoulder and freezes. “Oh, hey. Sorry, are we being loud? Just having some girl talk.”
“You are being entirely loud, but I suspect that’s all in good fun tonight, eh?”
Brittany’s jaw drops. She giggles loudly. “Well, yeah, kind of. My bestie is getting married.”
“So I gathered. Sent you a round of orgasms a while ago. Hope they satisfied the lucky lady.”
“That was you?” she and Lily say in unison. I just laugh.
Brittany slides up and puts her hand on my arm. Lily’s shoulder slump. She scuttles away to the bathroom before I can stop her. “It was a hell of an orgasm, thank you so much. Where are you from, stranger?”
“Brittany, my tiara won’t stay on!” The bellow comes from across the bar, and so with a pout, Brittany is gone.
Lily keeps her head down when she emerges from the bathroom minutes later, but she chooses the route that brings her past my table. Not looking up or slowing down, she mutters as she approaches, “Sorry, Calder, I’ll see you—”
Without thinking, I reach out and gently cuff her wrist. “Slow down, love. Have a seat for just a minute.”
She freezes even as I withdraw my grasp. My hand hasn’t fully retreated before she slides into the booth beside me. I grin, but the look in her eyes is anguished, and it kills my humor instantly. “You look like you’d rather be having a spinal tap than be here tonight. Care to talk it out?”
“You heard her. I’m brave and awesome for going to my ex’s wedding.” She twines a strand of dark hair around her finger so tightly the tip turns white, then red.
“You loved her, eh? Christ, that has to be murder, seeing her dolled up as a bride in front of you.”
Her brows knit before understanding dawns. A huge grin splits her face. “Oh god no. No, no, not even. Harmony isn’t my ex! God, she would so not be my type of woman. Marco, her fiancé—he and I broke up a year ago. Not sure he was my type either, but hey.” She gives me the outline of the situation and explains that the only reason she’s here is on her own mother’s insistence.
“Well, I’m no therapist,” I say at last, “but that’s six degrees of fucked-up, that is. Here, have a drink.” I slide her my beer, and she accepts. “Slàinte, darling.”
“What did you say? What does that mean?”
“It means cheers in Gaelic.”
“I thought it was pronounced gaylick, not gallick.”
“Only if you’re Irish,” I scoff.
“I thought you were Irish.” She frowns.
I gasp dramatically, hand to my heart, my expression pure horror. It makes her giggle, which is exactly what I wanted. No point in smoothing out the accent right now. “Fuck no, lass, you’re talking to a proper Scotsman, thank you verra much. Born and raised in Perth, and don’t you forget it.”
She’s helpless now, surprise in her eyes as she squints and covers her giggles. “Oh, I’m so sorry, I had no idea!”
If I’ve fucked up everything else in the last week, at least I got this part right. “You dinae ask, now did ya? Give me my pint back. Teach you for jumping to such conc
lusions, you wee beastie.”
“You have to stop it,” she gasps, passing the glass back and hiding her face in my shoulder. “I’m going to pee myself.”
“And here you were just in the restroom.” I shift back to my usual tone, take a sip, and nudge the beer her way.
She wrinkles her nose but accepts the drink. “I didn’t even use it. I just hid for a few minutes.”
I push a strand of hair out of her eyes. “If I didn’t know any better, Professor Lily, I’d say you were too sweet for your own good.”
She stares at the glass we’re sharing. “It’s my fatal flaw, I guess.”
“You know, you’re allowed to say no. It’s no sin to stand up for what you want, and it’s quite alright not to be nice when the situation calls for it.”
She’s about to speak, but Brittany’s voice just behind the booth makes us both turn.
“No, I swear, he’s the one who sent the shots! Come meet him, girls, he’s so awesome. And he’s English! Hi, handsome!”
“English,” I growl under my breath as a flock of women in pink, plus one in white, cluster in front of the table.
“Hey again,” I say louder, tossing a wave and pushing into the corner of the booth as the ladies begin to squeeze in the opposite side. Lily is smooshed into my side by Brittany and the girl in white—Harmony, I think was the name—who both grin and wiggle their fingers at me.
“Say something in English,” Brittany says, even more drunk now than she was a few minutes ago.
“Something in English,” I reply, which is the funniest thing she’s ever heard.
“You know what I mean.”
“Shots for the ladies,” I shout, snapping my fingers in the air and catching Danny’s attention. “English enough for you?”
“Perfection,” she squeals.
“Yeah, but Lily. Lily. Lily, listen. Listen Lily,” Harmony’s declaration silences the rest of the group. She turns somberly to Lily. “Going stag to a wedding is the worst,” she slurs with her eyes closed. “But I can set you up with a date! I have a cousin, he’s just about to get divorced and you’re way cuter than he is. He’ll be so happy to be your date…”
“I… I… There’s no need. I already have a date.”
And then her hand closes on top of mine on the table.
“Calder is my date, Harmony. That’s why he bought us the shots.”
Well, fuck me. I bite down on the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing my ass off as Harmony gives me another look.
“Wow. You’re, like, super hot. Like, crazy hot.”
“Thanks.” I wink, and her eyes nearly fall out.
“Why didn’t you tell me your boyfriend was here?” Harmony asks Lily.
“Oh, well, I didn’t want to take the attention from your party. You’re the bride. This is all about you.”
Harmony scrunches her heavily-painted face like she’s going to cry. Then she clutches her chest with both of her hands as her eyes glisten under the dim bar lighting.
“Oh my gosh, you’re an angel, Lily. Swear to god… Oh my god! I should make Marco come out too! Brittany, call him, tell him to come buy us a round!”
Brittany whips out her phone, and I can feel the tension radiate off Lily. Her spine stiffens against my shoulder, jaw clenching as she clamps down on my hand.
I’ll play along.
I use one finger to trace her jaw and swivel her head toward me. She blinks, but I touch our foreheads together. “Darling, about ready to head home? I’m not sure I can wait much longer.” Looking around her, I catch Harmony’s gaze. “Does the bride mind too terribly much if I abscond with one of her entourage?”
“God, I love English accents,” she sighs and then waves her hand. “Not at all! You guys have a great night!”
We do a seat shuffle to let Lily and me out of the booth. As we walk away, I hear Brittany announcing Marco will be there in an hour. I smirk, shaking my head at the scene, but Lily is striding to the door so fast I have to double-time to catch up.
Outside, she groans and threads her hands into her hair. “Oh, my god, I am so sorry. I can’t believe I said that—I just panicked and… it’s nothing, just bullshit but god am I sorry— I know that was totally out of line, using you like that. I’ve just… had a lot to drink and I normally wouldn’t say or do any of that. It’s just, everyone has been giving me a hard time about not having a date to this wedding and I sure as hell don’t want to be set up, so if they think I already have a boyfriend, they’ll at least leave me alone until the wedding. And then I’ll only have to endure the wedding awkwardly alone.”
“Hush.” I put my hands on her shoulders, and she stills. “You don’t have to do that.”
“Do what?”
“Make excuses for what you want.”
“What do you mean?”
“If you want me to be your date to the wedding, then your wish is my command. But you have to have the balls to say what you want.”
She scoffs a laugh. I cross my arms and wait. I can see it when curiosity creeps into her gaze. “Are you serious?”
“Do I seem like I’m kidding?”
“But I couldn’t. It would be so out of bounds, not to mention an imposition on you…”
“I’ll repeat myself. Just say what you want.”
She fiddles with her hemline another moment, bites her lip, and then blurts, “Could you be my fake boyfriend for this nightmare wedding, Calder?”
I touch my fingers to my forehead in a little salute. “At your service, my dear.”
“Seriously?” she squeaks. “You’re okay with this?”
“It would be my honor to be your fake boyfriend for this wedding, Professor Lily.”
She laughs and throws her hands in the air. “Okay then. Let’s do this. God, how will I ever repay you?”
“I’m sure we can work something out.”
In that moment, I am not thinking of Sonce at all.
8
Lily
A sharp blaring sound hits my ears. I shove a pillow over my head and groan.
“Damn it,” I mutter to myself.
It’s several seconds before I can even muster the energy to reach out and turn off the alarm on my phone sitting on my nightstand, and another minute before I sit up. When I do, I nearly topple back over.
I try to swallow, but the inside of my mouth is as dry as sandpaper.
What the hell was I thinking drinking so much last night?
I lean my back against my headboard as I replay the events of Harmony’s bachelorette party. There was the wine tasting at the vineyard where I managed to be sensible and drink only one glass total of wine. There was the first bar we hit up, where I just had water… and then there was the second bar. The sports bar where shots rained down on us from every direction.
I sigh and groan once more. I was definitely drunk last night, but thankfully not shitfaced. Parts are a bit fuzzy, but I can remember most of what happened—the major parts at least.
I remember Brittany’s and Harmony’s comments about my single status and how I ran from the group just to get away from it all. I remember running into Calder by total coincidence, chatting with him, laughing with him, scooting into his booth, and practically cuddling him when Harmony, Brittany, and the other girls found us.
I most definitely remember pretending that he was my boyfriend in front of them so the “poor single Lily” comments would stop. And I remember how he agreed to be my fake boyfriend for Harmony and Marco’s wedding. The last memory I have of him is when he walked me to the door of my duplex and made sure I locked the door after he left.
My stomach flips at just how doting he was, at how he braced me with those massive, muscled arms when I tried to balance my drunken self on those godforsaken heels as I tried to walk, how he let me sleep—and probably snore—in his car while he drove me home.
Despite the urge to down a gallon of water and eat the nearest fried thing I can find, the first thing I need to do is call Calde
r. I need to thank him for helping me get home safely first of all, but then we need to talk about this proposal I came up with last night.
I swipe my phone from the nightstand and see a text from Calder, sent a couple of hours ago.
Calder: Morning. Hope you’re not having too rough a time.
I grin so wide, my cheeks hurt.
Me: Thankfully it’s not too bad. Just a bit dizzy. Some food and tons of water will help with that.
Me: Thank you again for helping me get home last night.
Me: And for agreeing to be my fake boyfriend
Me: And thank you for agreeing to be my date to the wedding
I hit send on the last one and immediately grimace when I read the messages back over. Good god, why do I text like an insecure teenager?
Before he can reply, I send another message.
Me: Actually, are you busy today?
Me: Would you want to meet for coffee?
Me: I could use a giant Americano right about now.
Me: We should probably talk about our whole arrangement too.
I make another face at my phone screen. I need to not send multiple messages at once. Why do I even do that? It makes me sound so unsure of myself. I climb out of bed and head straight for the bathroom to relieve myself and down three glasses of water in a row.
When my phone buzzes, I walk back over to the bed and check it.
Calder: Come on, Lily. Remember what I said last night about getting what you want? Just say so.
I bite my lip, my tummy flipping once more.
Me: I want to meet you for coffee at Lovely Pine Coffee Shop on Elderberry Avenue in one hour.
Calder: That’s more like it. I’ll be there.
When I walk into Lovely Pine, I spot Calder sitting at a table for two in the back corner. I try not to stare too long at his yumminess. He’s wearing a simple casual outfit of jeans and a Henley, and it looks like he hasn’t shaved. My mouth waters. Thick scruff is hands-down my favorite facial hair look a guy could sport. How did he know?
He doesn’t know that, you twit. He was probably exhausted from carting you home last night and didn’t have time to shave.