“I can’t stop thinking about this.” He growled the words against my throat. “I can’t stop dreaming about being inside of you like this, so fucking deep inside of you.” He rubbed faster, pushed further into me. My head fell back and he took advantage of my exposed throat to lick and suck. “Don’t tell me we can’t do this, Ev. Don’t tell me I can’t get lost in you like this.”
I couldn’t tell him even if I tried. I was out of words, my throat hoarse from moaning so loud, from saying his name continuously as he claimed me. When I felt that unmistakable build inside of me I found myself screaming – Cory, don’t stop, please don’t stop. And he didn't. His tempo increased, faster, harder, until he was chanting my name over and over as he emptied himself inside of me. He leaned in and kissed my lips softly as if he didn't want this moment to come to an end.
“We should . . . “ I cleared my throat. “I don’t know when Yvette’s coming home.”
“Right.” He set me down gently and waited until I had my footing before rushing to the kitchen and coming back with a paper towel to put between my legs. “I meant what I said.” He looked me in the eye as I cleaned myself up. “I can’t stop thinking about you.”
“Cory.” I sighed, walking away to finish righting myself before we had the inevitable conversation. I walked toward the guest room. He followed. “We really need to talk.”
“I agree.” He sat on the bed as I undressed and re-dressed quickly. “Nana wants to see you while you’re here.”
“I just told you we need to talk.”
“And I told you I agree, but that doesn’t change the fact that my grandmother wants to see you.”
I whipped around to face him. “We can’t do this again.”
“What?”
“This.” I signaled between us. “Hook up and then act like we’re still just best friends.”
"Why can't we be still friends?"
“It has to be one or the other.”
“Why?” He stood up, frowning. “Why can’t we have both?”
“Because we can’t okay? Because best friends don’t fuck against doors or hook up in random dressing rooms!”
He stared at me for a long moment. I crossed my arms, waiting. I wouldn’t concede. Not on something that was obviously affecting me more than I cared to admit.
“I don’t think I can stop wanting you,” he said quietly. “I don’t think I can stop wanting to kiss you every time I see you.”
“Can’t you see why that’s a problem?”
“For who?”
“For me.” I was being loud again, but I couldn’t say these things in a restricted tone. “I can’t keep pretending that I’m okay hooking up or pretending to be your girlfriend or fiancé and then put on the backburner while you actually date other people.”
“You asked me to be your fake boyfriend first.” His brows rose as if he was surprised with my outburst. As if this would have never in a million years crossed his mind. “You wanted to make that Chris guy jealous, remember?”
“That’s not the point.”
“What’s the point?” He stepped forward, closer to me, his eyes never once leaving mine. “I want to hear you say it.”
My pulse was raging in my ears. The powerful thing about thoughts is that they change your viewpoint in things, but when those thoughts become words that you speak aloud, there’s no way of getting them back. I felt like our entire friendship was being balanced on my next words and they could either bring us together or tear us apart completely. Still, I pushed forward.
"I love you, and not in the best friends kind of way. In a real love kind of way. And I wish I could stop, but it's not something I can just wish away." I felt tears sting my eyes as I finally said the words. "I thought this last month without talking to you would do the trick, but it didn't. Every time something spectacular happened at work, I wanted to reach for the phone and call you to tell you about it."
“Why didn’t you?” He brought his hand to mine and held it between us. “Why didn’t you call me?”
“Because you stopped calling me.” I shrugged. “You were so angry every time I spoke to you that I figured calling you would only piss you off more and I never want to be the reason you’re upset.”
He shook his head. “You never were.”
"And now that I've been forced to see you again, I just . . . I wish we could go back to the way things were before we hooked up that first time. Before we hooked up this last time." I scoffed, reaching up with my free hand and wiping a tear from my face. "And I'm sorry that I've officially ruined our friendship – "
“Evelyn.”
I blinked. “What?”
“I’ve been in love with you most of my life.”
I pulled back, letting go of his hand. “What about Veronica?”
“Oh my God.” He rolled his eyes. “Veronica? Really?”
“Yes, really. You put everything on hold for her.”
“Everything except you.”
“Including me.” I raised an eyebrow, crossing my arms again. “When I told you I was leaving, she called and you took the call and left the room.”
“I left the room because I needed a distraction. Because my emotions were going haywire and I didn’t want to accept that you’d be leaving.”
“She broke it off with her fiancé.”
“I don’t care.” He took a step forward. I rolled my eyes. He brought both hands up and grabbed my arms. “I don’t care if she broke up with him or if she went and married a prince tomorrow. I don’t care because this last year the only person who seems to drive me past the point of sanity is you. The person I go to sleep thinking about is you.”
“So why haven’t you called?”
“I wanted to give you space,” he said. “Every time I hear your voice, knowing I can’t see you, touch you, smell you . . . it drives me crazy. You keep reminding me our engagement is fake and I can’t bear that reality because I want it to be real so fucking badly.”
“Cory.” I uncrossed my arms. My chest felt like it was being overloaded with emotions and I wasn’t quite sure how to handle all of it. “I never asked for space.”
“I’m sorry I assumed.” He chuckled, shaking his head. “I can’t believe this.”
“Neither can I. Yvette’s been telling me for over a year to tell you how I feel and I’d been scared it would change everything.”
He stepped forward, his hand on my hip. “It does change everything.”
“Yeah?” I smiled because he was smiling and I knew that smile meant he was happy beyond belief.
"This means you definitely need to co-sign my lease." He brought his lips to the side of my neck. I laughed. "And I'll have to come to visit every weekend."
“I haven’t agreed to either of those things.”
“But you want to.” He pulled back and met my gaze, eyes twinkling.
I nodded. “I want to.”
Six
The wedding was beautiful and expensive as fuck. I mean, I'd been expecting the latter after seeing Monica and Andrew's place, but I hadn't expected a ceremony at St. Patrick's Cathedral and a reception at the Plaza. I sat beside Yvette and Devon as we waited for the deejay to announce the happy couple. Cory was part of the wedding party, which meant I'd only caught a few glimpses of him through the night. Devon stood up while I was still admiring the larger than life centerpieces.
“You ladies want something from the bar?”
I looked up with a smile. "I'll have water, for now, thanks though."
He nodded and looked at Yvette. “Yvette?”
“Red wine, please.” She smiled and swiveled toward me in her seat as he walked away.
“You two look smitten again,” I commented.
“We’re working on things.”
“That’s promising.” I reached for the water in front of me. “Does that mean you’re not moving out?”
“Actually, we’re moving to Brooklyn.” She laughed. “He found a nice little place.”
“Define little.” I set down my glass.
“It’s a two bedroom.”
“Where?”
“Dumbo.”
“Oh, just a little two bedroom in Dumbo that probably costs more than Harvard Medical school,” I said. “No big deal.”
Yvette laughed. “It’s an old building. It needs renovation.”
“I didn’t realize those still existed in that area.”
“You’d be surprised.” She nudged my shoulder, still laughing. “How are things going with you and Cory? I noticed you’re not wearing your engagement ring tonight.”
I wiggled my left hand. I wasn’t going to lie, I felt naked without it, but I wasn’t going to wear a fake engagement ring. The next time I wore it, it would be because he asked for real, with no pretenses. As it is, it was taking time to accept that we were really doing this. We were really holding hands in public, kissing in public, and acting like a normal, loving couple. Devon came back to the table with Yvette’s wine and his own drink and we started talking about the brewery.
“If it does as well as I think it’ll do by the end of next year I may quit my job,” he said.
Yvette’s head whipped in his direction. “What?”
“Just a thought.” He shrugged. “You’re always saying I work too many hours and never have time for you.”
“But you also make great money,” she responded. “Would you really quit?”
“Only if we’re doing as well as I think we will be.” He leaned in and kissed her forehead. “Stop worrying, babe. We’ll discuss this again when we get there.”
She took a long, deep breath followed by a long gulp of wine. “It’s crazy, but I like that idea.”
I looked away, not wanting to intrude on their moment any more than I already had. I waved at Cory's grandmother, who was sitting a few tables down, and his parents. I'd have to go over and say hi once Cory got back here. As I looked around the room, my eyes found Veronica and I froze. I glanced at Yvette, but she was having a whispered conversation with Devon and smiling. The doors opened and the bridal party was finally announced. The entire room stood and cheered, and cheered louder when the bride and groom walked through the doors. They had their first dance, then the father-daughter dance, and soon everyone was invited to the dance floor. We were still standing, cheering everyone on when my eyes met Cory's. It felt like the room quieted, time stopped, as he made his way to our table. I watched as Veronica walked over to him, with a flirty smile on her face. She was that woman. The one who flirted even when she wasn't really flirting, but she always went above and beyond when it came to Cory. I couldn't say I blamed her, but it bothered the hell out of me as I stood there and watched.
I couldn't make out what they were saying to each other, but they were both smiling, and soon, she started moving her body as if to start dancing with him. I gripped the top of the tiffany chair beside me. We'd had lengthy conversations about her and his friendship with her these last few days and I'd decided I was okay with it, but as I stood there I knew I wasn't. He seemed to read my mind because when he looked up he stopped smiling immediately and said something to her that made her stop moving. She looked over at me, frowning, back at him and smiled again. They hugged, one that lasted two seconds too long for my liking, and then he continued walking toward me. The room was no longer quite as he closed the gap between us. It was blaring, noise roaring in my ears.
“Evelyn.” It was a warning tone. I narrowed my eyes at him. He shook his head. “Don’t go there.”
“I went there the moment you stood in front of her smiling like an idiot at whatever idiotic thing she was saying.”
He chuckled. “I love you.”
“I’m not the one who needs that reminder.”
“And you think I do?”
“Maybe.” I glanced away. “Maybe I should go dance with one of these single guys and see how you feel about it.”
“I can tell you right now how I’d feel about it.” He brought his hand to my waist and stood directly in front of me. “I’d be very, very upset.”
“Maybe I should ask one of them to be my fake date for the night.” I met his gaze. He smiled.
“Yeah?”
“Why not, I mean, you’d be surprised the kinds of relationships that develop from fake situations.”
He brushed his lips against mine and I felt my anger begin to dissipate. “I never faked anything with you, Ev.”
“Do I need to remind you of all the fake relationships I’ve been in over the years?”
“Do I need to remind you that you’ve been in all of those relationships with me?”
“No.” I bit his lower lip.
He groaned. “We should get out of here.”
“You have a speech to make.”
“Fuck speeches.” He kissed me, hard and deep. “I’d rather be doing something else right now.”
“Hm?”
“Something that doesn’t include faking things.”
“And how are you so sure I haven’t faked anything when it comes to that?” I smiled against his lips.
“I know because I know every sound you make. I know your exhausted groan and your moan of ecstasy when I’m licking your – “
“Cory!”
We both jumped away from each other at the sound of his name.
He looked to his right. “Nan. You scared the hell out of me.”
“That’s because you two are over here making out like a pair of rabbits and you haven’t even said hi to us.”
“Pretty sure that’s not the example they use rabbits for, but we get your point.” He sighed, putting his arm around my waist. “Let’s go say hi to my parents before they come over here too.”
“You look lovely, Nana,” I said.
She beamed. “You look like a doll, Evelyn.”
We walked over to the table she’d been sitting in and said hi to his parents. They both stood up to greet me with huge bear hugs.
“Dr. Evelyn Estefan.” His mom smiled wide. “We are just so proud of you.”
“How much longer until you move back?” His dad asked.
“Two years and a few months,” Cory said.
“I guess we can wait a few more years to welcome our grandbabies,” his mom said.
My eyes widened. “I mean, we have all sorts of things to do before we get to that step.”
“Not that many steps,” Cory said, grinning.
“Cory.”
He chuckled. “What? I’m just saying.”
“Evelyn is right to want to get married before starting a family,” Nana added.
“See? It’s not a crazy thought.”
“I’d marry you tomorrow if you’d let me,” he said. His eyes were no longer twinkling, no sign of amusement in them. My heart sped up. “I’d marry you right now.”
“Oh, that’s so sweet,” Nan said at the same time as his mom said, “That’s my baby.”
I was leaning in to kiss him when Monica got on the microphone and said, “Toast time!”
Cory and I seemed to be glued to our spot, but his mom or maybe his dad or Nan managed to snap us out of it and get him to walk over to the stage. I watched as he made his way over there and walked up the steps, taking the microphone from Monica. He smiled, leaned down and kissed her on the top of the head.
“These speeches are always awkward, at least I think they are and this is my first time giving one.” He chuckled. “Mon, you’ve been bothering the hell out of me since you were born, which was promptly one month after I was, and I’m not calling either of us old but that’s a hell of a long time now.” The crowd laughed. Cory laughed too, and then he got serious. “I’ve seen Monica go through a lot of stages in her life, and those stages brought their share of boyfriends even though she always insisted that she would never ever get married.” He shot her a look that made the crowd laugh again. “But in all seriousness, I’ve never seen her as happy as she’s been these last few months, and I know that sounds like the same cliché eve
ryone says at weddings, but it’s true.” He paused. “There’s a running joke in our family about commitment. We’re always slow to get there, but once we find the one, there’s no going back, and that’s how I know that you guys will be married forever.” He looked at Andrew. “Sorry, bud, you’re stuck with her.” The crowd laughed again. I smiled. Cory looked up, seemingly in our direction. “I’ve already found my one, and I can only hope that someday very soon Monica will be standing up here giving a similar speech for us. May you enjoy a healthy and happy marriage.”
We all toasted to that. I walked back to our table and sat down beside Yvette again. She was giving me an expectant look when I got there.
“Was I not invited to the fake wedding?”
I smiled. “There is none. There’s no wedding at all, actually.”
“Well, it seems like there may be one very soon.”
“Not a fake one.” The words came from Cory, who startled both of us.
“Nice speech, man,” Devon said.
“Thanks.” Cory took a seat next to me and leaned in to speak to Yvette without shouting. “Nothing about our wedding will be fake.”
"You're not even really engaged yet." She raised an eyebrow.
“We will be soon.”
“If I accept,” I said, feeling the need to add something.
Cory kissed the top of my shoulder. “If she accepts.”
Seven
I wasn’t joking when I said I wanted to marry her as soon as possible, preferably before she went back to finish her residency, but that meant planning and I knew it would overwhelm Evelyn. Instead of proposing this, I called her father to ask for her hand in marriage. I hadn’t felt the need to do that for the fake engagement but a part of me always wished I had, probably because I’d started treating that engagement like the real thing soon after I’d given her the ring. Growing up, I’d only met her father a handful of times. Her mom was always around though, and that was who I ultimately got his number from. Actually, if I was being entirely honest, I asked my mother, who asked Evelyn’s mother for it. We literally played a game of telephone for a telephone number, that I really hoped was correct now that I was dialing it and thinking about all the ways a digit could’ve been misunderstood.
Fake Love: NYT Bestselling Author Page 4