Them Back Dimples (Some Girls Do It #4)

by May Sage

  Yeah. That was why he didn’t make a habit of lying. He was screwed.

  On his way home, he asked Amelia, who was driving again, “How can a guy convince a girl to do something she probably really, really doesn’t want to do?”

  “Are we talking anal sex, blow jobs, or waxing appointment?” the French woman asked bluntly, as was the way of her peers.

  He had to laugh, “No, just go to a party.”

  “Is that your way of asking me out? Because that would be weird. I’m not your type.”

  Wren waggled a brow, wondering what she could possibly mean; Amelia was everyone’s type. She didn’t know a guy out there who didn’t fancy her; when they’d met a year ago, he considered hitting on her, but he thought better of it. They had a good thing going; the carpooling was companionable. Plus, she’d shown zero interest in him, or anyone else for that matter.

  Amelia was five foot eight, slender, delicate; her African heritage had also paired all that with a crazy ass.

  “No, I’m talking about a friend of mine.”

  “That makes more sense.”

  Wren shook his head, and wondered, “How the hell does that make sense? Every guy I know has a thing for you.”

  That made her roll her eyes and laugh.

  “That would be a no. Of course, I know they’d fuck me. They just wouldn’t date me. I’m black and French, I know the ropes.”

  That made him even angrier than Cali’s ridiculous insecurities, because Amelia wasn’t shy or unsure of herself. She said it like it was a simple fact, something she’d experienced.

  “Who said that to you?” he growled.

  She shrugged, eyes still on the road.

  “No one had to. I get the hungry looks, and the creepy ones, too. Guys look at me like I’m a piece of meat, but that goes away in public settings.”

  “That’s fucking ridiculous, Mia. And for the record, I’d totally want to properly date you, if I wasn’t taken.” Okay, so he wasn’t quite taken, but he was completely set on Cali. “I’d just never thought you might be interested.”

  Another shrug. She didn’t want to talk about it, but now she’d opened that can of worms, Wren needed to know just how pissed he needed to be on behalf of his friend.

  “Do you deal with a lot of racism, then?”

  “Some,” she conceded, “But in all honesty? I can take the obvious idiots. What actually gets to me is the common assumptions people tend to make, you know.”

  He didn’t know, so he waited for her to tell him, but the silence stretched in the car.

  “I need to understand, Mia. You’ve started this, tell me what you mean.”

  The third fucking shrug made his fists curl. That was sincerely pissing him off.

  “When we met, you asked where I was from, remember? I said I was French. Then, you smiled, and you said, from an outer territory? Other people ask, oh, from a French speaking country, then? Like I couldn’t possibly see the difference between France and another country altogether.”

  Some of his anger disappeared, morphing to shame; she wasn’t pointing her fingers at other assholes who’d hurt her feeling – he was part of those who did it every day, unknowingly. By assuming.

  “I was born in Versailles and raised in France. Sure, my grandparents were born in Africa – I’m black, I have an African history. But do people ask you if you’re Spanish, because you know, you couldn’t possibly be American, given the fact that you’re not a native?”

  Yeah, he felt dumb, and pretty awkward, now.

  “Sorry, you asked. Anyway, that actually gets on my nerves more than the few openly racist bigots I meet.”

  “How do you deal with it? And don’t you dare shrug, woman.”

  She smiled broadly, glancing at him.

  “I don’t. I work from home, and I only meet people at the hospital; they’re generally too poorly, and too grateful for some help to bother with all the supremacy freak shows.”

  Amelia had stopped in front of his building, by that point.

  “Oh, and about your issue? Just be your charming self. Tell the girl you want to spend time with her. Trust me, she’ll cave.”

  “You’re a star, Mia. Some day, some fucking prince charming is gonna knock at your door and he’ll be perfect for you.”

  “Don’t I know it,” she replied with a wink, before driving away.

  Cali

  Wren had lost his mind, there was no other explanation.

  “You’re joking, right? There's no way I can pass as your girlfriend, and I don't belong anywhere that could possibly be called a gala,” she scoffed. “Everyone will see through it. I mean, real couple act all fuzzy; they can't stop touching each other, and look at each other all lovingly and stuff. There's no way we could...”

  He cut out her train of thoughts by crushing his lips to hers, and as soon as the shock passed, she embarrassingly responded way too enthusiastically, grabbing the back of his neck to pull him closer, losing herself beneath his lips.

  His tongue coaxed hers open, as his hand roamed from her shoulders to the bottom of her back, just above her as.

  Holy shit. What the hell was happening?

  Just as quickly as the madness had started, it stopped; Wren took a step back, smirking down at her.

  “Yeah, you’re right,” he said smugly, before she could manage to form any work. “No way could we possibly act as if we had chemistry, right?”

  Act. Of course. He’d just made a point, showing that they could fake a relationship. Cali could have slapped herself for not realizing that right away.

  “We’ll be fine,” he said shrugging. “A couple of kisses, some heavy petting, and we’ll have everyone convinced. I’ll buy you a dress, we’ll drink some champagne… Come on, tell me you do it for me?”

  She must have completely lost her mind, because she found herself nodding.

  Shitty cake. That was going to be a painful, and possibly humiliating, experience.

  That’s how she found herself wrapped in a floor length green silk dress, her dark hair pinned at the top of her head, in a complicated way she would never have managed herself, the next Thursday. Turns out, Wren’s personal shopper, Laura, doubled as a hair and make-up artist. She couldn’t stop glancing at the mirror, wondering if it was really her reflexion it showed her, or if she was victim of some sort of trickery.

  Wren had told her he was going to arrive early – the hospital was more than happy to let him go when he was on his way to smooch investors and make them look good by throwing his money at some charity auction – but Laura was done with her by five o’clock, which left Cali way too much time to wonder what the heck they were doing. That kiss on Monday night kept replaying in her mind, and each time she thought of it, she became more confused.

  It had been hot; and it had felt like – god help her – he’d been into it. She might be wrong, kissing might just be the equivalent of shaking someone’s hand for a guy like him, but she didn’t think so.

  Ugh, she was a mess. She’d known exactly where she stood before he’d started blurring the damn line.

  Unable to make sense of half of the information on her plate, she did the one thing any normal girl would have.

  So, I need help. I think Wren MIGHT like me a little.

  Immediately, three little dots started moving on her phone, and she received five exclamation marks, followed by a, shut the front door!! He’s made a move?

  Cali bit her lip, reading Lucy’s question.

  Not really? He kissed me, but he said it was to show me would could pass as a couple. We’re going to some dumb posh party for his work tonight.

  More typing. After a second, the dots stopped moving, and then, were back again. Apparently, Lucy was as conflicted as her.

  Okay, so it could go either way, I guess… We’ll just have to wait and see. Hang in there, girly. I’m sending help.

  Cali had zero clue what Lucy had meant when she talked about help, but half an hour later, she was enlightened, when
a delivery guy rang the bell, a huge box in hand.

  She had absolutely no idea what it could possibly be, but she took it upstairs, and opened it on her bed.

  Her jaw hit the floor and didn’t come back up for a full minute.

  “Oh my fucking god.”

  How is that helping????? she sent, her panic evident with each extra question mark.

  Lucy had sent her five different kinds of sex toys; a dildo, a bullet vibrator, a rabbit, a fucking double entry thing she wasn’t even acknowledging and a pussy pump. Really. A pussy pump.

  That way, you can take things in your own hands while the man comes to his senses.

  She had no words.

  “Cassie? Are you ready?”

  The sound of footsteps approaching awoke her from her temporary immobilization; she threw some covers over the offending presents, and ran out, screaming, “Yes, coming now! Don’t come up.”

  Please, don’t come up.

  Wren

  The dinner at the gala had Cali frowning, and he smiled at her, confessing, “We all go for some tacos afterwards, don’t worry.”

  It was delicious and delicate, but the portion could barely keep a parrot alive.

  “Thank god,” she said, relief evident on her face.

  Anna, seated right opposite Cali, laughed, saying, “You’ll fit in alright… although, what’s your feeling on video games?”

  Her eyes narrowed, and Wren tensed, knowing that was a test Cali had to pass to be entirely accepted by his weird-ass friend.

  “I haven’t played in a long time, but I used to like role-playing games – like Final Fantasy and Fable, you know?”

  Perfect. That woman was perfect.

  “Talking about RPG fans, where’s Finn?” Wren wondered, explaining to Cali, “Finn is Patrick’s brother. He and Anna are normally joined at the hip.”

  “We’re not,” Anna lied. “And he couldn’t make it; he’s working on a big case.”

  Wren allowed himself a secret smile. Some day, Finn would wake up, and that wasn’t going to be pretty; he couldn’t wait to watch from the sideline.

  “So you’re Trick’s date, instead? I wonder how Finn’s going to take that,” Wren pushed, making both Anna and Trick shrug.

  “He knows I’m not into Anna – no offense, sweet,” he added with a wink. “I have a girlfriend, of sorts. She just wouldn’t have come here with me.”

  “So, you didn’t ask her?” Cali translated.

  Cali sounded like she couldn’t believe it, but Wren wasn’t surprised. Both Finn and Trick were idiots. He hoped he was never going to be as stupid in his dealings with Cali.

  “She doesn’t even let me touch her where there are people around. We’re not at the public dating stage yet.”

  See? Idiots.

  “And how long have you guys been together?” Trick asked Cali, smirking.

  “We’re not really together. Wren just asked me out as a favour, to get out of taking some girl his boss wanted him to accompany.”

  “You don’t say,” the man replied smugly.

  He might as well have worn a sign saying, at least I have the girl, dickhead.

  Dammit. The man had a point.

  They ate, then walked around the ballroom, stopping to talk to anyone who was anyone; Wren had to admit, the boring ordeal was far more enjoyable with his arm wrapped around Cali’s waist, holding her close. Now they’d left Trick and Anna, she was done saying that they weren’t together, and he got to feel what it would be like to have her with him. To be able to drop kisses on her neck and caress her soft curves.

  Sure, he was hard and trying his best to hide it, which wasn’t easy in dressed pants, but oh, well. Worth it.

  Finally, after less than two hours, Anna found them, announcing, “That’s it, I can’t take another minute of this shit. The shoes need to come off. We’re breaking free – you guys coming with?”

  She was wearing high heels, as she always did for this kind of event; plus, a form-fitting dress, make up, girly shit on her nails. Basically, she looked like the opposite of the normal Anna, but she pulled it off well. A while back, it had felt like she was playing dress up; she never had the right clothes, or her hair was a mess. She’d found her thing, now, owning her platinum blond hair instead of hiding it under a ton of dye, and wearing short, sexy things that showed off her endless legs; Anna turned eyes, just like Cali, although neither of them seemed to notice it.

  “I thought you’d never ask,” Wren said, bending down to Cali’s neck one last time. “You’re good to go now?”

  She nodded, her eyes avoiding his. Yeah, she was affected alright.

  Cali

  Okay, so Lucy, in her infinite wisdom, had had a point. The vibrators really were there to help. After spending the last five hours with Wren’s hands and lips on her, she fucking needed them – all of them. Well, except maybe that double one she’d tossed in the trash.

  She barely said goodnight after they’d come home, dashing upstairs as fast as her feet could carry her, and put the toys to good use, curving her back away from her bed sheet as both of her hands moved between her legs, pushing her bits of heavenly plastic right there.

  “Fucking hell!”

  The yell made her lift her head, and when she saw Wren standing in front of her, eyes bulging, Cali died. She must have died, of embarrassment, there was no way to survive that, right?

  “What are you doing here?” she shouted.

  “I don’t know, you looked flush, I wanted to see if you were okay,” Wren shouted back. “Fucking… right. Hm. Leaving you to it. See you tomorrow?”

  He stood there for a few seconds, before turning his heels and running out as fast as possible.

  Holy…

  As she somehow hadn’t perished on spot, Cali decided that she was going to murder Lucy first.

  Somehow, she made it downstairs the next day. She hid for as long as she possibly could, but eventually, her stomach made her tiptoe to the kitchen. But of course, as the man’s house was an open plan downstairs, he saw her from the lounge, where he was drinking some coffee with a newspaper on his lap.

  He jumped to his feet and walked straight to her, his eyes not quite meeting hers at first.

  The jury was still out as to whether she was going to survive the humiliation. Probably not. Her heart could give in at any moment.

  “So, we’re going to have to get the awkwardness out of the way. Here it is: I saw you masturbating,” he said, making her cringe. “It’s normal, and healthy to... Jesus, to…”

  “Don’t say it.”

  “Okay. So, let’s move on, right? I never saw your fantastic tits, or your…”

  “Don’t say it.”

  Wren finally looked at her, and strangely, what she saw was amusement. The guy was fucking laughing.

  “You think it’s funny?” she seethed.

  He bit back his grin.

  “Nope. No one’s laughing here.”

  She stared at him defiantly, up until a giggle escaped. So, yeah. It had been kind of funny, in the I’m the unluckiest chick in the entire world sort of way.

  “Well, I saw you move them back dimples in front of your mirror like a weirdo, so we’re even.”

  “Even would be you catching me wanking, sweetheart.”

  “Are you offering a show?” she asked, finding a brazen, sexy voice she didn’t think he’d ever made use of. Ever. In her entire life.

  Wren seemed surprised, but took it in stride, indulging her as he leaned forward and whispered, “Anytime.”

  Wren

  They found a rhythm, for better or worse. Cali worked from home, at all hours of the day and night, a computer on her lap and spreadsheets around her. She was back to wearing large t-shirts and that was okay, because that was her. Besides, whenever he dragged her out for dinner, she made an effort, putting on some mascara, pink lipstick and sexy little dresses that drove him mad. They flirted. He introduced touches, increasingly familiar, and she didn’t mind them one
bit.

  “Look at how sexy they are,” Cali said, holding up a trashy magazine. “I had to buy it when I saw us, Anna and Trick on the front cover!”

  Wren grabbed it, and smiled.

  “They really look like a couple, don’t they?”

  Anna’s hand was gracefully resting on Trick’s forearm and he smiled at her, while Wren held Cali tight against him. That had been taken on their way out from the gala, a few minutes before they’d made it to a taco place, begging the owner to serve them although they’d arrived right after closure.

  “So do we,” he replied, and Cali didn’t freak out.

  He was wearing her down, slowly but surely. Now she sat against him when they watched a movie, her head touching his arm. She let him feed her from his plate when they ordered something different. And the touches – the touches were driving him to madness and making him want more, all at once.

  “Do you plan on going anywhere for Christmas?” he asked, controlling his expression to attempt to keep it casual, until she shook her head.

  “No, I don’t have anyone.”

  Just like him.

  “What happened Cali? How come you’re alone?”

  There had been plenty of time he’d wanted to ask, but he never felt comfortable enough to; now, they were past that, or so he hoped.

  “Three years ago last summer, my family went for a holiday abroad. I didn’t go – I had an internship with a prestigious art gallery. My mother gave me the disappointed speech, but my father and brother were supportive. Told me I was right – it’s not easy to make it as an artist without contacts, you know? Anyway, there was an earthquake. None of them made it back.”

  Fucking shit.

  His arms went around her, and kept her close, as she sniffled.

  “You know, it’s almost funny. I couldn’t believe it at first. We always think that kind of thing only happens to other people.”