Fake it Baby_A Best Friend's Brother Romance

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Fake it Baby_A Best Friend's Brother Romance Page 98

by Tia Siren


  “Watch this,” he said, sweeping down to give Brooke a quick kiss on the cheek.

  “Mark!” she cried in exasperation, pushing him back a bit.

  “What?” he said, frowning, “Look, no one even noticed. That’s why it’s called a ninja-kiss.”

  Sure enough, a quick look around revealed that pretty much no one had noticed. All the smartly dressed passersby were too busy looking at their phones or were completely lost in their thoughts.

  “Oh yeah?” I told Mark, “Well, watch this.”

  And with that, I swept a kiss onto Brooke’s one cheek than the other.

  As Brooke let out an exasperated sigh, I triumphantly informed Mark, “Double ninja-kiss.”

  Despite herself, Brooke giggled with us.

  “I mean it though,” she said, afterwards, shooting us both a scalding look, “You guys are going to get us caught.”

  “I’m just in love and I want the world to know it, show it,” Mark sung tunelessly.

  “Mark!” Brooke groaned.

  “Okay, okay,” he said, “Seriously though—look around us. Nobody cares.”

  As Brooke scanned the surroundings, I did the same. When I turned around, a man ducked into a convenience store. I paused. That was weird—but it was probably just a coincidence. Brooke had me all paranoid.

  “Jake?” she said, with fear in her voice.

  “Oh nothing, I just thought I saw the café,” I said.

  “No, no,” Brooke said, her whole face relieved, “It’s still another few minutes away.”

  “Cool,” I said, and left it at that.

  Because it probably had just been a coincidence, seeing that man ducking in the convenience store. There was no point in worrying Brooke—she’d been through enough these past few days already. And if it weren’t a coincidence? Well, if that man was who I’d been fearing, there was nothing we could do now anyway.

  Chapter 34

  Brooke

  Another morning, another perfect day. We’d all come to work together again. We’d had a fun night last night. Only a bit of sex, more cuddling and bonding really. Which I liked just fine. These men were the kind I could have long deep conversations with and not get bored.

  And now, it was just the three of us, walking through the parking lot to the elevator.

  “Wait,” I told them.

  I took a quick look around. But the parking lot was as abandoned as ever—there wasn’t even a car near ours, let alone an actual person.

  “What?” Mark asked.

  “This,” I said, pressing my lips to his.

  Just as he was getting into the kiss, I broke away. With a teasing look at him, I turned and kissed Jake. We enjoyed the lip lock for a minute or so, before I broke away.

  “You are cruel,” Mark said, although there was a note of admiration in his voice.

  “Oh please, you love it,” I said, smiling back.

  And really, both men looked turned on as hell. I took a longer look around the parking lot, then shook my head, dismissing the thought. That would have to wait—for tonight maybe.

  “Are you two coming over tonight?” I asked.

  Jake shook his head.

  “No, we have early meetings tomorrow morning. But what about the next night?”

  “Alright,” I said, trying not to let my disappointment show.

  Now that I knew I could actually be with Mark and Jake, I couldn’t get enough of them.

  The rest of the day passed as usual. That is, until the end. When I went to hug Jake goodbye, Mark closed the door behind us.

  “Not so fast,” he said.

  His voice sounded odd. When I turned to him, he pressed his body to mine. Then, wrapping his arms around me, he pressed his lips to mine. His breath smelled like peppermint.

  When I broke away, he still had his pelvis pressed against me. My heart was beating a mile a minute.

  “Mark,” I breathed, “We’re in the office. We can’t.”

  “C’mon Brooke,” Jake said, leaning in to kiss me too, “Just one kiss.”

  I groaned as Mark dug his lips into my neck.

  “Just one kiss,” I mumbled, my mind going hazy.

  As Jake twined his eager lips with mine, I watched Mark unbuttoning my top in an aroused daze. Jake’s lips, Mark’s hands.

  Now Mark was massaging my breasts over my bra. At the sound of footsteps, we scrambled apart. I had just enough time to do up my top button, when Deidre poked her head in.

  “Sorry, normally I’d page you, but it’s broken.” She wrinkled her button nose. “All the patients have left and I’m done for the day. Is it alright if I leave now?”

  “Yes, of course,” Jake said, with a strained smile, “Goodnight, Deidre.”

  “Goodbye,” she said.

  And then, thankfully, she was gone, her bright red high heels clip-clopping down the hallway.

  We all breathed a sigh of relief once Jake closed the door.

  “Do you think she saw us?” I asked, anxiously.

  “Doubt it,” Mark said, “We were all pretty fast in separating.”

  “That was too close of a call,” Jake said, frowning.

  I stood up, buttoning up my other buttons.

  “Agreed. We should go.”

  Mark strode in front of me, taking my hands.

  “But I want to finish what we started.”

  Gently, I extricated myself.

  “Not here in the office. It’s too risky. You saw what just happened—what if Deidre forgot something and come back. You boys know I’m not exactly quiet during sex, either.”

  Jake smirked.

  “How could we forget?”

  He turned to Mark with a decided look in his dark eyes.

  “Brooke’s right. We can finish this tomorrow night.”

  “Fine,” Mark said, with a sigh, “Guess I’ll just hit up Jake’s Jenna Haze collection.”

  Jake’s dark bushy brow rose.

  “Who said you were coming over?”

  Mark threw his arm around Jake’s shoulders.

  “C’mon, you won’t help a brother out in his time of need?”

  Jake rolled his eyes, patting Mark.

  “Yeah, okay. Whatever.”

  He turned his content gaze to me.

  “First we have to say goodbye to Brooke.”

  My goodbye with Jake and Mark was a long drawn-out steamy kiss with both of them. We went to the parking garage, and then separated.

  My heart panged a little as they drove away, but a glance at my phone had me smiling. Tonight, Karly was coming over. I’d already told her the good news over text, but now I could tell her in person.

  As soon as Karly came over, she was a bundle of excited energy.

  “I knew it would work out!” she crowed, her blue eyes crinkling with triumphant delight.

  “You what?” I asked, flopping on the couch.

  Karly extracted her two-bite brownie bag, then flopped on the couch beside me.

  “I totally knew,” she repeated.

  Still, I gaped at her.

  “You called them selfish dogs and told me to never think about them again,” I reminded her.

  A brownie pinched between her neon green nails, Karly waved her hand in a dismissive gesture.

  “Oh please, that was just in the moment. I knew they’d come around.”

  When I rolled my eyes, she tossed the brownie in her mouth and, chipmunk cheeks bulging out, asked, “What? I did know. They would’ve been crazy to let you go.”

  I grinned at her, taking a two-bite brownie myself. Really, they’d always been one-bite brownies for Karly and I.

  “Speaking of, how’s your banker doing?”

  Karly smiled shyly.

  “Well, he keeps asking me to sleep over, so I’d say that’s a good sign.”

  Giggling, I asked her “So what’s his place like?”

  Karly gave me the details—from his exquisite indoor pool, to his equally impressive stainless steel palace of a kit
chen.

  Then we went on to snooping at old classmates on Facebook.

  “Doesn’t this make you feel so evil and yet, oh so good?” Karly asked, with a guilty smile.

  “Yeah,” I admitted, “Especially when they were horrid, and you see that their life sucks now, and then you laugh about it.”

  She giggled.

  “Like Howlin—he has what—three kids by three different exes now?”

  “Don’t remind me,” I said, shaking my head.

  Suddenly, all the air had been sucked out of the room.

  “Sorry,” Karly apologized, “But what about Tanya Graydon—surely you can appreciate where that bitch has ended up.”

  I smiled in spite of myself.

  “Yeah—jail for assault,” I said with a giggle, “Where she belongs.”

  Back in high school, Tanya had been a prolific bitch—the kind that stars in high school movies—only meaner. Even the teachers had feared her. She’d gotten some staff fired, stolen boyfriends and best friends, and even mocked me in front of the whole class. I could still hear the other student’s laughter ringing in my ears now.

  “You ever feel like you can’t get away from it? High school, I mean,” I asked Karly.

  “In a way,” she said, chewing on her lip with a thoughtful expression, “Almost like whatever I do or post online, or even aim for—part of it is to look good. To prove them wrong.”

  “C’mon Kar,” I said, tossing her a two-bite brownie, “You weren’t even unpopular.”

  “I know,” she said, taking a bite, “But still—it never felt like enough. It always felt like their lives were better, their boyfriends were hotter, their clothes were nicer.”

  “It just seemed like that because they wanted it to. That was what they specialized in—making things look good. I told you—that one time I was in the principal’s office when Melanie stopped by. I’d overheard the receptionists talking—because Dom—her super-perfect boyfriend, remember?—had hit her.”

  “No shit,” Karly said.

  “I’ve told you this story like seven times,” I reminded her in a pained voice.

  “Obviously not properly,” she retorted primly, “Otherwise I would’ve remembered.”

  “Anyway,” I continued, “I guess all that makes me think to now. What’s really holding me back from giving this a try? And when it comes down to it—it’s just that—what people will say. I’m afraid. I don’t want to be talked about or have people laughing behind my back. Because, really, this is weird and different. And if I saw someone else involved in something similar, I’d probably judge them. Well, maybe not now that I’ve been in their shoes, but you know what I mean.”

  Karly nodded.

  “This whole time, it’s been kind of a joke to me. But now that you mention it, being in a relationship with two people is pretty out there.”

  I glared at her.

  “This from the person who’s been pushing it the most.”

  “I know, I know,” she said, “But just because it’s weird, doesn’t mean that it’s wrong. And if you’re going to live your life to impress a bunch of people you’ll probably never see again, then what’s the point?”

  I nodded, and she continued, “Sounds to me like you know the answer already.”

  “I guess,” I said, “But that doesn’t make it any easier. Part of me really wants the picture-perfect arrangement. You know, the rich successful doting husband, the two kids, and the fluffy dog.”

  Karly crinkled her nose.

  “In what world is a fluffy dog part of the picture-perfect equation?”

  I rolled my eyes.

  “Oh, you’re a cat person—how could I forget? Anyway, you know what I mean.”

  She grinned.

  “Basically. Although you have to admit, even with this throuple arrangement, you are pretty damn close. Both guys are model-handsome, crazy-successful and rich—basically the perfect catch—only you’ve got two. It’s almost like you blew the picture-perfect quota right out of the water.”

  “So far that I’m now on land,” I said, with an ironic snort.

  I sighed.

  “Though there’s no getting out of it. I’ve never cared for anyone the way I do for these two, and my mind’s made up. I’m going to give it a go, whether the whole world calls me a pariah for it or not. I’d rather have a life that looks bad but is good, then a life that looks good but is bad.”

  “That’s my girl,” Karly said, giving me a high five.

  A few minutes later, our faces were gobbed with mint face masks. Their pale green chunky consistencies had the result of making us look like a cross between hideous aliens and terrifying Jason’s.

  “Now, enough about me,” Karly declared, yanking the brownie bag out of my hands, “Tell me more about your new throuple arrangement.”

  “Karly,” I whined, “Give me back the two-bite brownies.”

  “They’re one-bite brownies and you know it,” she shot back, “Now spill.”

  I sighed.

  “We’ve been a throuple all of two days. There’s not much to tell.”

  Karly bit into a brownie slowly.

  “Hmm, too bad.”

  “Fine,” I grumbled, “What do you want to know about—the sex?”

  Karly’s eyes lit up as she passed me the brownie bag.

  “Bingo.”

  “It’s good—really good,” I admitted, taking a brownie for myself, “It’s like they’re part of a team or something—a team working together to get me off. And they’re both so skillful. When one isn’t fucking me, they’re doing something to get me so turned on, that I cum super-fast.”

  I shifted on the couch. Truth be told, I was getting wet just thinking about how hot sex was with Jake and Mark was.

  “Damn,” Karly said, “You’re making me want to try out this throuple thing, too.”

  I laughed.

  “Believe me, you do not want to try this out, unless you have absolutely no choice.”

  Karly frowned.

  “Why not?”

  I took a bite of my brownie, shaking my head.

  “I’m not sure. Forget it.”

  It was only later that night, once Karly left, that the answer occurred to me. I’d said that not because of the obvious taboo nature of the relationship, or even the difficulties inherent in the type of relationship itself. It had to do with something deeper, some subconscious sense I had. That this, despite everything, was too good to be true. Yes, as I closed my eyes, my mother’s words sounded in my head, “If it seems too good to be true, it probably is.”

  Chapter 35

  Mark

  My ringing phone was my alarm clock.

  “Hello?” I said, answering it without looking at who was calling.

  “Dr. Sawyer, what are your comments on your new fling?”

  I stared at the phone for a minute. It was an unknown number.

  “Mr. Sawyer,” the nasal voice pressed, “Who is the identity of this mystery woman?”

  I hung up. A glance at my phone had my pulse rocketing up. Forty-seven missed calls. Forty-seven. And about twenty new texts. Texts like, “TNT News Agency would like an interview with you. If interested please call 576-989-8723”.

  I clicked open an internet browser tab. I searched my name, ‘Mark Sawyer,’ and then my heart fell to the pit of my chest. There it was—not one article about me, but ten. And not just about me, either. I clicked on one and there it was, on the top of the page. A picture of Brooke kissing me—and Jake. The title of the Provincial Inquirer read, “Who is Teller-Sawyer’s New Fling?” The article went on to make a bunch of ridiculous conjectures about Brooke’s identity—including that she was a Russian mail-order bride, a Slovakian escort and, most plausibly, a former patient.

  I called Jake.

  “Check the internet,” I told him.

  “I just saw it,” he said in a tired voice, “I was about to call you.”

  “Well, fuck man!” I exhaled sharply. “This
was exactly what we were worried about. What are we going to do now?”

  Jake paused.

  “I think we should just wait it out,” he said finally, “I mean you and I are in this for the long run, right?”

  “Hell yes,” I said, without hesitation.

  “So, we’ll just go to work like normal and hope it just blows over. You know how news is, every other day, there’s a new ‘hot’ story. People get bored easily. They’ll probably forget about this after a week at most.”

  I breathed out in relief.

  “Yeah, you’re probably right. I was just flipping out here. There’s something about seeing your face on the front of Provincial Inquirer that makes you a bit crazy.”

  “Tell me about it,” Jake said, “I just finished consoling my mom, trying to convince her that I’m not destroying my career with pointless debauchery.”

  Despite the circumstances, I couldn’t help but chuckle.

  “Knowing your mom, you probably actually had to use the word ‘debauchery,’ didn’t you?”

  I smiled, thinking of the pale powdered woman, with her pearls and furs, and the aristocratic tilt of her chin. A proud snooty bitch to the last, even after Jake’s dad had run out on them.

  Jake sighed, although I could hear the smile in his voice.

  “I sure did. Anyway, I just prevented her from having an aneurysm by promising it was photo shopped. In a week or so, I’ll have her meet Brooke herself—she’ll see just why I’m willing to do anything for her.”

  “Man, for once I’m real glad I don’t have any relatives to answer to,” I said.

  “Don’t remind me,” Jake said, “I still haven’t returned my aunt’s calls.”

  “Anyway, what are we going to do about Brooke?” I asked.

  “I tried calling her, but it went straight to voicemail,” Jake said, a note of worry in his voice now, “Do you think she saw them?”

  “Hell, I hope not,” I said, “Here, hang on. I’ll try now.”

  I tried calling Brooke, but both calls took me straight to voicemail.

  Back on the line with Jake, I told him, “Couldn’t reach her. So, what should we do about Brooke? Just meet her at work?”

 

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