Pretend You're Mine

by Crystal Kaswell

  “Not gonna think about him. Mostly gonna think about your tits in that dress. Fuck, that might be all I need.”

  “And my ass?”

  “Of course. You looked like a spy in a porno.”

  “You know—”

  “I do.” He parrots my tone. “Whatever it is, I know.”

  “If I really thought you were masturbating to me, I wouldn’t talk to you.”

  “Believe what you want.”

  “I will.” I sink into my seat. Set my purse in my lap. Stare at my text from Ryan.

  Ryan: I’ll be here if you want to talk. All night.

  I do.

  I want to be there so badly.

  I want to collapse in his arms as he whispers I love you in my ear.

  But that isn’t going to happen.

  He isn’t going to be mine.

  Not when his fucking ex-girlfriend owns his head.

  “Still think I can talk you out of this.” Dean motions to the other side of the divided street. “Not too late to make a u-turn.”

  My heart thuds against my chest. It’s tempting. God, how it’s tempting. Some of Ryan is better than none. That’s what I decided a long time ago.

  And it was.

  But it’s not anymore.

  I need all of him.

  I’m not sure when it changed, but it did.

  “You can’t.” My fingers trace Ryan’s words. I’m here if you want to talk. All night.

  “He text you again?”

  “No.”

  “Uh uh. No way he let ‘safe’ slide.”

  “He did.” Sort of. He knows I’m a scared little bird, that I have to be coaxed into opening up.

  He knows exactly how to play me.

  Even when I’m running away from him.

  “Bullshit.”

  “He said we can talk.”

  “Let’s go back to the hotel. Talk.”

  “I should have taken a cab.” Even if this conversation is the only thing holding me together.

  Dean cares. About me and about Ryan.

  It’s on the surface today. There’s no façade. Just concern.

  It’s fucking terrifying—Dean is never serious—but it’s comforting too. He’s a good friend. He’ll make sure I’m okay.

  I stare at my cell as commercials fade into music. A Foo Fighters song. It’s familiar. A song the LA rock station plays every hour.

  My fingers glide over my cell.

  Leighton: Did you realize you love me?

  The words are even more pathetic in digital form.

  He’s made it clear he doesn’t love me.

  I’m not going to beg him.

  I deserve a scrap of dignity.

  Dean turns. Studies my cell. Shakes his head. “You know it’s more than that.”

  “It isn’t.”

  He turns back to the road. “He’s an idiot.”

  “Not my type. Unfortunately for you.”

  “You think I’d take Ryan’s sloppy seconds?”

  “No, I don’t think you’d sleep with someone your brother is… whatever this is.”

  He shrugs, playing cool, effortless, soulless. “Still not too late to turn around.”

  “I spent a fortune on this flight.”

  “I’ll reimburse you.”

  “That’s sad. Paying me to give your brother a chance.”

  “Paying you to get your head out of your ass.”

  Those are strong words coming from Dean.

  I sink into my chair. Stare out the window. Let my phone rest on my thigh.

  My breath stays shallow.

  My pulse stays weak.

  My cell stays silent.

  “You have another flight in thirty-six hours.” He hits a fork in the road, turns left, toward the airport. “You’ll be fine if you miss it.”

  “A flight next to Ryan.”

  “Gives you time to talk.”

  I shake my head.

  “He has time to make this one.”

  My eyes go to the clock. He doesn’t. I’m barely going to make this flight and it’s the last one out of Maui. At least, the last direct flight to LAX. “There’s no way he’s missing the wedding.”

  “Want to bet?”

  “Not everything needs to be a bet.”

  Dean laughs. “That’s where your wrong.”

  “Okay, fine. I bet. Twenty bucks.”

  He shakes his head. “If you’re wrong, you stay at Inked Hearts.”

  “I’m leaving in a month.” The words are heavy on my tongue. It’s different now that it means no more Ryan. And that means no more Dean or Walker or Brendon. Or even Emma or Kaylee.

  No more laughing at my friend’s stupid jokes.

  No more studying Ryan’s work.

  No more taunting him with miserable music. Or teasing him about being serious. Or eating the lunches he makes me. Or fixing his coffee. Or fucking him on the counter.

  No more Ryan.

  Forever.

  It’s warm in here—the AC is off, the windows are down—but I’m freezing.

  Without Ryan, my future is an ugly, grey place.

  My life is dull and empty.

  I have Iris. But all my other friends are ours. All my hobbies are wrong. Running is ours. Movies are ours. Swimming is ours. Romance novels—

  Fuck romance novels.

  “So stay the month.” Dean’s bouncy voices fills the car. Pulls me back to the moment. “If you’re that sure.”

  “What do I get?”

  “Whatever you want.”

  Maybe there’s some way he can convince Ryan to love me. They are brothers. They share something…

  I swallow hard. Think of something that might give me the tiniest hint of satisfaction. “I want you to go a month without sex.”

  Horror spreads over his expression.

  But it does nothing to thrill me. Teasing Dean is usually fun. But this isn’t. All I see when I look at him is Ryan’s eyes. They’re a little darker. A little deeper.

  Still, I play along. “Including masturbation.”

  “Did it for six fucking weeks after I got my cock pierced.”

  “I try not to think about your cock.”

  He nods. “You’re on.”

  I shake his hand, but there’s no enthusiasm in it.

  I’m out of enthusiasm.

  Chapter 46

  Ryan

  Penny wraps her fingers around her glass of bourbon. She holds it up to toast. “I’m not sure what I should say.”

  I’m not sure why she’s here. The ten minutes I bought myself changing in the bathroom did nothing to illuminate her motivations.

  I should probably tell her to go fuck herself.

  But there’s this doubt lingering in my gut.

  I need to be sure.

  I clink my glass with hers. “To commitment.”

  She lets out a nervous laugh. “To forever.” She brings her glass to her lips and downs half of it.

  It’s good bourbon. Three hundred dollar a bottle top-shelf shit. Rich. Oak. Leather.

  It might as well scream the manliest fucking drink around.

  That was why I got into it. Seemed like a man’s drink. Like most seventeen-year-old boys, I was desperate to prove I was a man.

  Penny sits on the couch and crosses her legs.

  She smooths her ivory dress.

  She looks every bit the bride to be. Glowing, nervous, happy.

  But she’s in my hotel room.

  That’s not a good fucking sign

  Her honey eyes fix on mine. They fill with nostalgia. “You remember the first time we snuck some of Daddy’s bourbon?”

  “I said I loved it, chugged a glass, spent the night throwing up.” Fuck, that was miserable.

  She laughs. “You made it half an hour.”

  “You still went out with me.”

  “I liked you.”

  “Was it the dry heaving that did it?”

  “No. It was you. All those things that are stil
l you. The intensity in your eyes. The way I can always tell you’re thinking something deep and meaningful. The way you never give up on what you want. You’re principled and uncompromising to a fault. And you’re… You were everything I wanted then.”

  What the hell is she getting it?

  “Sorry. I’m getting nervous.” She takes a long sip. “Only twenty hours to go now.”

  “It must be scary.”

  She nods.

  “Frank is good for you.”

  Her expression gets contemplative. She stares into her glass like it contains all the secrets to the universe.

  I take a seat next to her.

  She turns toward me. Finishes her bourbon and drinks me in instead. “Where’s Leighton?”

  I try to find a lie and come up blank.

  Penny’s gaze darts around the room. The clean dresser. The sparse floor. The utter lack of Leighton’s bright pink suitcase. She studies my expression, looking for cracks. “She left.”

  “She’s just—”

  “Is it over?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Because of me?”

  “Is that what you want?”

  Her brow furrows. “Of course not.”

  “Then what the fuck are you doing?”

  Her fingers brush my thigh. It’s a quick thing. Then it’s not. She rests her entire hand on my thigh. “Ryan, I…”

  I freeze.

  “I miss you.” Her eyelids press together. She leans in. She leans close enough to kiss me.

  I wrap my fingers around her wrist. Pull her hand back.

  She jumps back. “Oh. I’m sorry.” Hurt flares in her expression. “That was… I… I don’t know.”

  Bullshit.

  “I wasn’t—”

  “You were.”

  Her cheeks flush. It’s not a blush of desire. It’s embarrassment. “Don’t tell Frank.”

  “I don’t give a fuck about Frank.”

  “But—”

  “You do this a lot?”

  “No. Never.”

  I believe her. Somehow, I can tell she’s being honest. She learned her lesson destroying me. Decided not to do it again.

  Maybe I should be bitter.

  But I’m not.

  “You’re scared. You’re panicking. But I’m not gonna help you run away from your fiancé,” I say. “If that’s what you want, find someone else.”

  “I don’t.”

  “You sure?”

  “No. What if I’m wrong? What if he isn’t enough? If I’m not enough?”

  “How do you feel now, when you think about him?”

  “Happy.”

  “When you think about celebrating your ten-year anniversary?”

  Her lips curl into a smile.

  “Seeing kids in boat shoes and Dockers playing soccer on the weekends.”

  “They’re playing soccer in their boat shoes?”

  “Yeah. They want to dress like daddy.”

  She laughs. “The Dockers too?”

  “Of course.”

  “How are they running?”

  “They aren’t. They suck. But they’re eight. They’re gonna suck no matter what.”

  Her laugh gets louder. “That’s absurd. But I see it.”

  “You love him?”

  “Of course.”

  “What else do you need to know?”

  She stares at her empty glass. “You’re right. God, I’m sorry.” She stands, moves to the counter, wraps her fingers around the bottle. “I told myself I was coming here to make things right between us. But I guess I was—”

  “You wanted validation.”

  Her lips curl into a frown. “How is it so obvious to you?”

  “I know you.”

  “I don’t deserve you.”

  “You don’t have me.”

  “You’re here.”

  “This is my room.”

  She laughs. “True.” She turns and stares into my eyes. “What happened with Leigh?”

  “We’re not there, Pen.”

  “You two—”

  “No, me and you. We’re not there and we’re never gonna be there. I’m always gonna love you. But I can’t be this person for you. I can’t be your friend. I’m glad I’m here. I’m happy for you. Really, I am. I want you and Frank to have a big, beautiful life together. I want you to soar.” My shoulders relax. “But I don’t want anything to do with it.”

  The words hit me someplace deep.

  I want her to light up when she whispers I do.

  I want her and Frank to make a billion babies.

  And I don’t want a fucking thing to do with it.

  Those French-manicured nails release my heart.

  I’m done with Penny.

  And not in some I’m better off without her break up song kind of way.

  I don’t want her to die in a fire.

  I want her to burn bright with passion and love and joy.

  I can see her big, beautiful life and it makes me feel good.

  I don’t want her anymore.

  I don’t miss her anymore.

  I don’t need a single part of her.

  “I gotta go, Pen.” I stand. Move closer. Plant a goodbye kiss on her cheek. “Congratulations, really.”

  Her smile gets sad. “Thank you.”

  I walk her to the door. “You deserve it.”

  “You really mean that?”

  Yeah, I do.

  She tore my fucking heart out.

  But it’s still beating. I’m still here. I’m still alive.

  And I feel so much fucking better wanting the two of them happy.

  “Are you and Leigh gonna be okay?” she asks.

  “I don’t know.” I close the door behind us. “I hope so.”

  “Me too.”

  I walk Penny to the elevator.

  I say goodbye to her.

  To her hold on me.

  To this whole fucking phase of my life.

  This is it. The end of the Penny chapter.

  I just hope it’s the beginning of the Leighton one.

  No.

  Hope isn’t enough.

  Hope hasn’t ever done shit for me.

  Somehow, I’m going to make this right.

  Chapter 47

  Leighton

  The automatic check-in machine spits out my ticket with a loud whir.

  The air conditioning hums.

  A middle-aged couple hugs a twenty-something guy goodbye. They linger in their embraces, exchanging promises and I’ll miss yous and love.

  Dean taps his foot against the tile. “It’s not too late.”

  I wave my ticket.

  “So?”

  “I asked you to drop me off.”

  “You really think that was gonna happen?”

  No. But not for the reasons Dean is suggesting. Not because he’s an asshole who lives to cause trouble.

  He is. But he’s staying to see me off.

  To make sure I get to security without crumbling into a million pieces.

  My cell buzzes against the pocket of my shorts. Again. This must be Ryan’s fourth call. Or maybe it’s the fifth.

  I can’t bring myself to look at my phone to find out.

  “What is that?” Dean nods to my pocket.

  “My crotch.”

  He makes a show of laughing. “Is that a call you’re getting or you just packing your vibrator with you?”

  “My vibrator is too big to fit in my pocket.”

  “Go on…”

  “In your dreams.”

  Again, he motions to my pocket. “It’s buzzing.”

  It is. “It’s nothing.”

  “Nothing, really?”

  “Yeah. An alarm,” I lie.

  He shakes his head you’re so full of shit. His sandals squeak against the tile as he takes a step toward me. “Then let me see.”

  “I have to go.”

  “Am I holding you down?”

  “You’re into that?”


  His grin gets mischievous. “Maybe I am, maybe I’m not. I’ll fill you in if you let me see.”

  “I don’t care.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “Even if I did.” I really don’t. “You’ll fill me in either way.” I should go. I should turn and run to security. But I can’t leave. This is normal. It’s easy. It’s family.

  As soon as I leave, that’s gone.

  Hell, this might be the last time I see Dean for a while.

  Or ever.

  My entire life revolves around Ryan.

  There’s nothing to go back to in Los Angeles. I want to crawl into my bed and cry. I want to fall apart in my apartment. I want to be home.

  But without Ryan, I don’t have a home.

  I don’t belong anywhere.

  My damn cell buzzes again.

  Dean stays teasing. He motions hand it over.

  I do.

  I need to be here.

  I need him screening the message.

  I need someone making this okay.

  The call ends. Right away, the screen flashes with a text.

  Ryan: Penny

  That’s all I see.

  Her name.

  Penny is naked in my bed.

  Penny told me she’s in love with me.

  Penny is dead to me.

  I don’t have a clue what it is.

  Dean unlocks my cell with the password.

  I raise a brow.

  He shrugs. “Like you don’t know mine.”

  I know everyone at the shop’s passwords. But I never use them. Even when it’s tempting. “I plead the fifth.”

  He reads from a text. “Penny came by my room.” His eyes go wide. “Wait. Shit.”

  “See.” My heart sinks like a stone. She came by his room. God knows what they did after.

  I don’t get a say.

  I ended this.

  I broke up with him.

  I have no right to hurt over him fucking Penny.

  But he’s better than this.

  He deserves more than this.

  He deserves everything.

  That’s why I feel this in my bones. Because everything should be right. We’re good together. We’re happy together. He wants to love me. He just can’t.

  “No.” Dean’s voice goes dead serious. “He talked her out of her cold feet then told her to get lost. But, fuck, maybe he should have led with that. It’s like he’s trying to lose you.”

  My shoulders soften. “They didn’t have sex?”