Our Totally, Ridiculous, Made-Up Christmas Relationship
Page 10
When he finishes speaking, I sit quietly and contemplate what he has just shared with me. The way each word replays in my mind makes me glow from the tip of my head to the bottom of my feet. “I lust you, too.” We stare at each other, and momentarily, I forget.
I forget about all of the past hurts. I forget about all of my insecurities when it comes to guys. I forget that right here, right now is all an act; and I allow myself to fall so deeply in lust with this stranger I feel I have known all my life. It feels so damn good to be forgetful.
“Hot cocoa?” he asks. I bite the bottom of my lip, and glance toward my cell phone, seeing that it’s almost five-thirty in the morning.
“Hot cocoa.”
Entering the kitchen to see our pancake mess still there is pretty nice. It wasn’t a dream. This is simply the weird, awkward, totally ridiculous life I’m currently living. Moving to the cabinet, I reach up to grab the mugs and feel two hands land on my waist.
“I don’t want hot cocoa,” Kayden whispers, his lips ever-so-slightly touching the edge of my ear. Twirling me around, I meet his stare. He brushes his finger against my chin and my insides churn in frenzy. His green eyes focus on me, and I cannot tear my gaze away from him even if I want to. He’s smirking with such a strong sense of knowing that I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else on this planet.
“Kayden…” I whine with pleasure as he brings his lips close to mine, millimeters apart, and our breaths comingle into one. His hands wrap around my waist, and he lifts me onto the top of the marble counter. Any minute now, Dad will be around to start his six a.m. coffee pot. Mom will wander down the steps of the isolated cabin soon after, wanting her peppermint tea, her chocolate croissants. “We can’t…” I whisper, pulling him closer to me, rejecting the very definition of my own words.
He doesn’t kiss me, but I want him to. I want him to kiss me in a way that makes real lovers cry out of mere jealousy. I want him to hold me the way he’s never held anyone before. My back arches my body toward him, pressing me against his chest, making our bodies become one.
I don’t know how we got here; I don’t even fully understand why he’s here in Wisconsin with me. Why did I even decide to hire an actor? Why did Stacey decide to sign Kayden that day? Call it a moment of weakness, call it a dark period in my life—or hell, call it fate. All I know is that within the past twenty-four hours Kayden Reece has interjected himself into my life and I am oh so glad he did.
He wraps his hand around my neck, pulling me closer as he separates my legs, stepping in between them. His lips brush across mine, and my eyes want to close, but he warns against it.
“Stay with me, Jules. I want to experience all of you. I want to smell your strawberry lip gloss. I want feel your smooth thighs. I want to get lost in those blue eyes, I want to hear all of your whispers, listen to your secrets, and I want to taste your lips against mine.” When he kisses me, he makes sure I’ll never forget it. I run my hands through his hair, light moans fighting to escape my covered mouth. His hands run up and down my back, holding me still against the countertop.
He kisses me as if we have been doing it all of our lives. He kisses me as if he wishes to do it until the day we die. He kisses me as if he’s so deeply in love with me and he fears that it will be the last kiss we will ever share.
And I kiss him back. Ohhh do I kiss him back… Wanting nothing more than his taste, his body, his words. I kiss him back, wishing to know how his mind works, why his heart beats. I kiss him back, knowing that, even if we say this thing between us is only an act, it’s far from the truth.
The steps from upstairs start to creak, giving us our first warning signals. He allows for our lips to find comfort against each other one last time before he pulls back and gives me a smile that melts me faster than the rising sun melts the fallen snow. He turns me into a complete pile of mush, and I’m absolutely, positivity crazy about the feeling of being his mush.
Creak. Creakkkk.
His eyes move to the mess we made with the pancakes and the batter from earlier. “You want me to clean this up?”
I shake my head as he helps me off the countertop. I smooth out my outfit and nudge him in the opposite direction of the footsteps, toward our bedroom. It’s fine if I’m caught in the kitchen, but being caught with my fake boyfriend would just be awkward for me.
One last kiss to my nose and he disappears.
Nothing about this moment is counterfeit. Nothing about our intense connection can be tagged as a lie. Kayden may be my made-up Christmas boyfriend, but he’s far from being just an act.
That’s when I hear “Stop it, Tim!” followed by a fit of giggles and the sound of people crashing into the hallway wall. “Get over here, sexy. Mama wants to taste you some more.”
My hands shield my wide-open mouth. Oh my gosh! That’s Grandma’s voice saying some really disgusting, disturbing things. I pause and then shift my body back and forth, trying my best to think what to do next, attempting to figure out how to not throw up at the thought of my grandmother tasting someone.
Oh my gosh. Gross!
Their stumbles get closer and I slide to the ground, hiding behind the kitchen island.
“That’s right, baby. Slap Mama’s booty. Harder!”
Involuntary gagging starts now. You ever have a fantastic dream and then it slowly creeps into a nightmare? And there’s no way whatsoever to wake the hell up? Story of my night.
Kayden re-enters the kitchen through the same door by which he had just exited, and sees me crouching on the floor. “Jules, what are you—”
“Shhh! Get down here!” I whisper in panic. If I have to listen to Grandma getting some, Kayden should be by my side suffering with me! He slides down to join me just in time to hear a deep male voice call my eighty-year-old grandmother his naughty Tinkerbell, and I swear to God I pee my pants a little. It’s like in those horror movies when the killer is right around the corner from you and you are so afraid that you tinkle just a little out of fear.
The footsteps are closer and I know they are inches away from us. I can feel the island shake when this mysterious Tim character pushes my grandma up against it.
“It looks like someone made us breakfast. Here, try this pancake,” Tim laughs.
“Ohh, get the syrup. Pour it on right here,” Grandma moans. Oh my gosh I swear Grandma just moaned and everything about making out, lust, and sex is officially ruined for me. And I never want to see another freaking pancake in my life.
“Who is that?!” Kayden whispers, and my head falls to the palms of my hands.
“Some random guy, and my grandma.”
When I look up at Kayden, his face is contorted in laughter, which he is trying his best to control. My fingers find his skin and pinch him hard as I send the look of death to him.
“Tim, why don’t you get some ice cubes?” Grandma coos. My eyes shift to the refrigerator sitting directly in front of Kayden and me. Kayden’s face mirrors my ‘oh shit’ face, and we edge closer to one another, curling into a tight ball, trying to make ourselves smaller. Maybe he won’t see us?
Creak. Creakkk.
This Tim guy is getting a lot closer, and I instantly hate him because he ruined the specialness of my early morning pancake date by feeling up my grandmother with pancake syrup. It isn’t until Tim’s back is to us that the knot in my stomach forms and I realize that this Tim guy is much, much younger than Grandma. He’s also shirtless, and I see syrup dripping down his neck.
Ewwww!
When he pulls out the ice tray and his body swivels around, it’s almost impossible for him to miss us. He looks down, our eyes lock, and I gasp along with Kayden. It’s not just some random Tim guy—it’s Tim. As in Tim Faulter from the television show Goners.
He doesn’t say anything, but a smirk is plastered on his face. He tips his invisible hat at us, and all I do is wish that I am invisible, too.
He moves away from us, toward his eighty-year-old girlfriend, and I hear her squeal at what I assume
is the ice cubes finding her body.
Cue the return of the involuntary gagging.
“Okay, okay, okay! That’s enough!” Standing, I wave my hands around and around to stop whatever the freaky-freak is happening on the other side of the island. Grandma’s eyes find mine and she smiles so sweetly.
“Oh hey, baby!” she sings, as if she’s not aware that she just scarred me for life. “What are you doing up?”
“What?! Are you kidding me?! What are you doing here with Tim Faulter?!”
Tim has that same goofy grin that Grandma has on her face, as he extends his sticky hand toward me. “Oh, so you know my work? Nice to meet you. Joyce has been telling me some great things about you.”
Did he just call her Joyce?! Grandma doesn’t have a first name! And I’m definitely not touching his sticky fingers. The idea of where those fingers have been is quite disturbing to say the least.
“I thought you were going to be in the Alps for the holiday?”
“Why in the hell would I be in the Alps? I’m always at the cabin for the holiday. Your mommy dearest was throwing a big hissy fit about me bringing Tim along, saying it was supposed to be a family gathering, but I figured, what the hell? It’s my damn cabin, I’m a grown woman, and I can bring whomever I want into this place. Besides, she said you were bringing that Richard guy along, and no offense, but he’s not exactly family.”
Tim leans over the island and looks down to Kayden. “I’m assuming you’re Richard.”
Kayden slowly rises and looks as if he’s been caught by his parents doing very bad things. “Yeah.”
Grandma’s eyes send this weird wave of energy to Kayden, and she places her hands on her hips. “Who are you?”
He distributes his top-of-the-line smile her way and his long eyelashes blink once before those sexy eyes reappear. “I’m Richard.”
“No you’re not.”
I feel every hair on my body stand up straight at Grandma’s simple comment. “Yes he is.”
Her sassy attitude almost sends me away to my room in despair. “Julie Anne Stone, do you really want to stand in front of me right now and lie straight to my face?” My gaze falls to the ground and I feel her stern look staring me down. “Don’t make me ask again,” she warns.
“His name is Kayden,” I mutter, watching Tim eat our leftover pancakes.
“And how do we know Mr. Kayden?” Grandma uses her scolding voice and now I feel like I’ve been caught in a terrible act.
“He’s an actor from my agency.”
A short laugh is heard first, followed by a landslide of laughter that gives my grandma the hiccups. “You hired an actor to be your boyfriend?!” More hysterical laughter is heard as she bends over in a fit, as though I am the funniest clown in the room. Seriously though, it’s not that funny. “Oh my…Just when I think this family cannot become anymore dysfunctional.”
“How did you know it wasn’t Richard?” I ask.
“You texted me some weird picture of some nerd guy wearing a headset that said ‘I love my Richard.’”
Ohh, so Stacey really didn’t get my picture of Richard the other night. I owe her an apology.
Grandma walks over to me and kisses the top of my head, leaving me confused and afraid until she says, “I’ll keep your little white lie a secret, Granddaughter.” Her eyes travel to Kayden and there’s a soft grin on her face. “If you hurt her, I will cut off your penis.”
With that, she takes Tim’s hand and walks off, leaving me to witness the terrified expression her final comment has left on Kayden’s face.
Heck, if I were him, I’d be scared shitless, too. I’m kind of surprised Danny is still alive after what he did. Kayden doesn’t blink, and I chuckle at his fear. “We should get to bed for a few hours. Today’s going to be a long…long day.”
Before we can leave, Tim rushes back into the room, grabs the bottle of syrup, smirks, and tips his invisible hat again before disappearing.
Mother-flipping gross.
“Sunshine, wake up.” Kayden’s lying next to me, and I can feel his body heat radiating against mine. When my eyes open, his greens smile and I can’t help but want to kiss him. “Good morning.”
“Good morning, indeed.” I wiggle out of the comforter and sit up on the mattress.
“Ah, you’re a much happier morning person now.” His hair is dripping wet and he smells like coconut shampoo. Dang, if I would have woken up a few minutes earlier, I could have ‘accidently’ walked in on him in the shower.
Well, there’s always tomorrow for the accidental walk-in.
“You see that window? And the sunlight shining on the snow? That’s why I’m happier. Because it’s actually morning, loser.”
“Oh…” He edges me closer to him and wraps me up in his arms like I’m his to protect. “You’re much more of a loser than I am.”
“Kiss my ass, jerkface.”
“Fuck off, freaky-ass freak.” He hisses as I lean against his chest. I love the way he smells...I love the way he feels. Mostly though, I love how he tells me to fuck off and calls me a freaky-ass freak.
“Bite me, asshole,” I bellow, playfully slapping his cheek with the palm of my hand.
He lays me down on the bed, and his body hovers over mine. His hands are pinning me down, and I never want to get up. “I would, but you would like it too much.”
I would. “I wouldn’t!”
“Is that a challenge?”
I nod once and stretch my neck out. His fingers run up and down my neckline before his teeth lightly begin to nibble on my neck. Oh, fuck my life…That feels good. I feel new levels of excitement, his gentle caressing fingertips give me goose bumps; and Kayden knows he was right that I would like it. He’s slow at first, sucking gently in one spot before his teeth run across my skin. A moan escapes my parted lips the moment his tongue leaves his mouth and explores my collarbone. His kisses get deeper, and a growl emanates from his throat letting me know that he loves biting me as much as I love being bitten. His hands fall to the hem of my t-shirt, and when his fingers make contact with my stomach, my back arches toward him, silently begging for more of his soft caresses, more of his bites.
OhMyGod. I’m lusting so hard right now.
I get it now… It all makes sense to me, why Bella was all gaga for Edward and shit in Twilight, because he made her feel—the same way Kayden is making me feel. If he looked at her the way Kayden looks at me; if he touched her the way Kayden touches me; if he nibbled into her soul the way Kayden did mine, then I would expect nothing less than to be transformed into something that would be his forever.
Kayden’s eyes find mine, asking permission to remove the shirt, and I have it off and tossed to the side before he can even blink once. Next, I reach for the sides of his shirt and remove it before he can blink twice. The penny on his chest stares right at me, and my finger circles it, slowing down time. I feel his heart pounding, and my hand lies over it. Breathing deeply and slowly, he closes his eyes and gently places his hand over my heart. Matching breath for breath, my hand rises and falls against him as our hearts beat as one.
He sits up and moves to the other side of the bed, away from me. When I push myself up on my elbows, I turn to him to find such sadness, such regret, lying inside his eyes.
“I can’t sleep with you, Jules.” He bends his knees, resting his elbows against them, his eyes staring at the comforter wrinkled underneath him. His breathing is heavy, and I only wish I could read the thoughts flying through his mind. He rubs the bridge of his nose before he looks at me, and my heart shatters. He looks so hurt, and I worry I’m the one who’s hurting him.
“Did I do something wrong?” I push myself up and sit cross-legged, positioning myself directly in front of him. He brushes a piece of fallen hair from my face and through tight lips, he slowly releases the breath he’s been holding.
“No. That’s the thing. You’ve done everything right. All of these former assholes you dated used you, treated you like shit, and pu
t their hands on you for their own greedy needs. And I hate them for that. For making you doubt yourself. I hate that they touched you like they meant it. I hate how they looked at you as if you were the only thing they saw. And I hate how much you gave of yourself to people so unworthy.”
I don’t know what to say to him, but I’ve never felt so exposed in my life. My arms wrap around my body, and Kayden lifts the comforter, quick to cover me up.
“You deserve more, and I don’t deserve to touch you. At least not the way I want to touch you—not yet, anyway.” He holds his hands toward me, palms up, and stares into my eyes. I place my hands against his, and unknowingly he changes my life in an instant while he keeps talking.
“You deserve to have your hands held. You deserve to be taken out to a nice restaurant. You deserve to go dancing because you fucking love dancing. Then the lucky bastard who gets to do all of these things with you should walk you home and stop at the front steps. He should want to make love to you, but he doesn’t even really let the thought cross his mind. He kisses you gently, with no tongue, and no longer than a five-second peck. He pulls away from you, smiling because he knows the simplistic kiss was the best thing that has ever happened to him. Finally, he walks back to his car, telling you he’ll call you, which he does. He calls you the moment he hits his car, just to thank you for allowing him to know you.”
“Why do you always say the right thing?”
“I don’t. But after meeting you, I realized how much meaningless sex I’ve had with girls who were probably as hopeful as you are. So from the head master of the Meaningless Club to the head mistress of the Hopeful Club, I apologize on behalf of all the losers, users, dumbasses, dicks, fuckers, meatheads, nerds, liars, cheaters, and just plain idiots.”
Best apology ever. “Well, we Hopefuls fully accept your apology.”
“Good,” he sighs, and I see him really taking in my acceptance. His body relaxes, and he edges closer to me, “Now get dressed. It’s already two in the afternoon. I gotta go pick out some Christmas trees with your ex-asshole, Tim Faulter, and your dad, and you have to go bake cookies. Then later on, I’m going to be the best boyfriend ever and make everyone in your family super jealous of our fake relationship. You have no idea the kind of things I have planned for these next few days.”