LIVE TO TELL: A Fake Fiancé Romance (Material Girls Book 2)

by Sophia Henry

  Less than a week ago, I packed two suitcases and moved to Charlotte for this assignment without ever having set foot in this city before. The whole reason was to meet new people and enjoy new places.

  Plus, if the two couples in this group get cozy, I’d get to spend more time with Luke. Score.

  “Go on,” I tell Mindy with a wave. “Have fun with Nolan.”

  “Are you sure?”

  I nod.

  “Thank you so much, girl!” She leans in, hugs me and whispers, “Kristen is awesome. She won’t ditch you.”

  I almost laugh, but bite my lip. I don’t blame her at all, actually. I could use a hookup. I glance at Luke quickly and wonder what his story is. Mindy’s departure might give me an opening to find out.

  “Come on, Bree,” Kristen hooks her arm through mine and pulls me toward the street.

  “We’ll show you a good time,” Auden adds, hooking her arm through my other one and leading me toward the road.

  From the Epicentre we head towards “the alley,” as Kristen calls it. When we enter from Sixth Street, I’m expecting a typical alley—a dark, narrow walkway between buildings, maybe a few dumpsters, but that’s not what I find.

  It’s as wide as a street. One side is the wall of a parking deck and the other is the back entrance to three different bars. Crawlers spill out the doors, crowding the entire alley.

  At two o’clock in the afternoon, it looks more like what I’d expect on a Friday or Saturday night. We have a drink in each place before moving on. I remembered Mindy’s advice, making sure to have water between some of the drinks, but I’m pounding back more than I have since college, and by the time we leave the alley, I’m feeling loopy.

  “Where to next?” I ask. My mind is clouded and walking straight is becoming a chore. I never should have tried to keep up with the group.

  Luke must sense my lack of coordination, because he wraps an arm around me, guiding me forward. His T-shirt smells like a mix of laundry detergent and a warm, woodsy scent that makes me want to kiss him. I lean forward, brushing my lips across the sleeve of his T-shirt.

  “The Roxbury,” Kristen answers, grabbing my hand and pulling me forward, away from Luke. “Time to dance off some of these drinks.”

  I glance back to make sure he’s behind us. He is, talking with the guys. Maybe he senses me looking at him because he lifts his head. His eyebrows raise in a silent question, as if he’s asking me if I’m okay. I can’t believe something so small makes my heart flutter, but it does.

  “Having fun now, Capper?” Pavel says, hitting Luke’s stomach with the back of his hand. Luke immediately responds by pushing his shoulder, which sends Pavel off balance. Quickly, I turn around to pay attention as we weave through bodies.

  The Roxbury is a few blocks from the alley bars. It’s actually close to my apartment building, and although I’m having a great time, there’s a part of me that wants to slip away and take a nap. Of course I won’t do that. Not only would it be really rude, but I also don’t want to give the impression that I can’t hang.

  Besides, a snap (the term I coined for sex then a nap) has a much better ring to it. Maybe I can corner Luke in this next bar and see if he’d be up for that? All these thoughts remind me of why I never really took to the party lifestyle. Once I have an idea in my head, I can’t let go. Alcohol and hormones are a concoction that lead straight to trouble.

  There’s a line to get into the Roxbury, but Kristen leads us straight to the front. She walks right up to the bouncer, a tall, ripped African American man in a tight, black T-shirt and dark-blue jeans, sitting on a barstool.

  “Hey, Kevin,” she greets him.

  He stands up. “KK! Where you been?”

  Kevin wraps his arms around her and hugs her, lifting her off the ground. When he sets her down he notices the rest of her entourage. “I see you got your girls with you, but where’s your boy?”

  Kristen nods behind us. “He’s back there with Luke and Aleks. Can you let them in when they catch up, please?”

  “Anything for you, mama.” Kevin winks at her and ushers the three of us through the door.

  “Do you come here a lot?” I ask.

  Kristen laughs. “Yes, but I’ve known Kevin for about a year. He barely works here anymore. Must’ve taken the shift for the crawl. It’s a big money-making day for the service industry.”

  “I can imagine,” I say, more to myself than anyone else.

  The bar we enter is a dream come true for kids raised in the eighties and nineties who were too young to get into clubs. Mark Morrison’s “Return of the Mack” blasts through the air and suddenly I’m transported back to the kitchen of our old house, where mom and I used to dance around to whatever was on the radio.

  A line of pendulum lights with hot-pink globes hang above the main bar, leading to an oversize replica of Rubik’s Cube suspended by a long rod, while black light fluorescent tubes are scattered across the rest of the ceiling. Vintage album jackets and concert posters cover the walls. Behind the bar, multiple sixty-inch flat-screens play the video of the song that’s blasting from the speakers.

  Kristen swings her hips to the beat as she walks toward a doorway, away from the long bar across the room from us. I follow her around a corner to a dark, narrow staircase.

  “We’re going to another dance floor, not kidnapping you,” Auden says from behind me.

  “I wasn’t worried.” I tell her, excited to be having such a great time with new friends. I hope this will be the first of many outings—with Luke, too.

  “It’s too crowded and bright upstairs. The basement is appropriately dingy for dancing,” Kristen calls over her shoulder. The music gets louder as we get closer to the bottom. It’s a different song than what’s playing on the main floor.

  The stairs lead us to a dimly lit seating area with low ceilings. I’m immediately drawn to the hand chairs—which must’ve been taken straight from an eighties-movie prop sale. They glow, neon pink and green under the black-light bulbs above. The palm of the hand is the seat, while the fingers curl upward to make the back. I need to get a selfie in one of those chairs before we leave. Hell, I may ask someone here if I can buy one of those chairs. It’d look amazing next to Dad’s vintage Pac-Man arcade table in his game room.

  “We should take her to Olde Mecklenburg,” Kristen suggests once we’ve all cleared the last step.

  “Olde Mecklenburg? Is that another city?” I yell over the Journey song. Which is hard to do. Steve Perry can belt it.

  “No,” Kristen answers. “It’s a local brewery. German beer-hall style. Everyone sits around long picnic tables eating German food and drinking beer. They have a huge outdoor area. It’s a fun place. Super casual.”

  A local brewery with a German beer-hall vibe is completely my style. I whip out my phone and type a quick note to myself. Usually, I carry a notebook with me, but I switched to a small purse for today. I can’t explain why, but I love the act of writing things down on paper rather than using technology. My phone is all I have with me, though, and I don’t want to forget the places I’ve been to or heard about today.

  “Sounds great.” I pause. “But I work tomorrow.”

  “And I’m pretty sure the guys play the Flyers tomorrow,” Auden says.

  “You would know, hockey girl,” Kristen teases her.

  We shimmy our way from the seating area onto the packed dance floor. “Don’t Stop Believin’” blares, and even though I don’t really like the song, it’s a welcome change from the same ten top-forty songs we’ve heard at all the other bars we’ve stopped into today. I can only stomach so many pop hits.

  When I spot a wicked Beastie Boys concert poster from 1986 hanging on the wall behind Kristen, I reach for my phone again. I have to tell my friends back home about this place, but I’ve already forgotten the name. Above the bar, a sign advertising specialty drinks with names like “Purple Rain” and “Long Island Mr. T” makes me smile, but doesn’t tell me where I am.

 
; “What is this place called again,” I yell to whoever can hear me.

  Auden leans close to my ear and yells, “The Roxbury.”

  The small crowd on the dance floor screams in unison when the opening notes of Bon Jovi’s “Livin’ on a Prayer” fills the air. Kristen and Auden each wrap an arm around my waist, and we sway together as we sing, making me feel like I’ve been one of their friends forever. We belt out the chorus at the top of our lungs with so much flair Jon Bon Jovi might ask us to be backup singers.

  After bouncing and swaying to a few more eighties hair-band hits, my head is somewhat clearer than it was before we got to this bar. I can’t say dancing helps metabolize the alcohol faster from a scientific standpoint, but it always seems like it does. I’m not about to hop in a car and drive, but I definitely feel less buzzed.

  “Come dance!” Auden yells, beckoning someone toward us. I follow her gaze to the hand chairs where Luke, Aleksandr, and Pavel look exceptionally comfortable.

  Aleksandr smiles at his wife, but shakes his head no.

  Now is my chance. To get close to Luke and sit in a hand.

  I tap both Auden and Kristen on their shoulders and motion to where the guys are sitting, letting them know I’m going over there, too. “I’m going to take a break.”

  Without giving him warning, I climb into Luke’s lap and lean back against his chest. It’s a bold move, but I’m fairly confident he won’t shut me down, since we’ve been communicating in flirty smiles and touches all day.

  “Well, hello,” he greets me.

  “Hey,” I respond, unable to contain a silly grin.

  The Roxbury is definitely the most fun bar I’ve been to in Charlotte so far. It’s not an every-night kind of place, but it’s certainly my pick for the best music and dancing. Every once in a while, I need to let loose and shake it out.

  Being snuggled up to Luke is an odd juxtaposition. It gives me a sense of peace, yet fires me up at the same time. I can’t concentrate on the blaring music or anything else when I’m this close to him. The only thing I can think of is straddling him in this crazy, neon-pink hand chair, grabbing his long, thick hair, and covering his lips with mine. Instead, I lean my head back, so it’s resting on his shoulder.

  “Are you drunk?” he asks, squinting at me as though he can read the level of intoxication on my face.

  “No.”

  Luke’s fingers dance along my waist, attempting to tickle me into another answer. But all I can think about is how much I want his fingers to dip lower.

  “Fine,” I admit. “I may be a bit tipsy.”

  “A bit,” Luke says and laughs. His chest shakes under me.

  Before I forget, I dig into my purse and retrieve my phone. “Smile,” I tell him, holding it at arm’s length to take a selfie. I shake my hair out and place my cheek close to his.

  The photo is completely on point. Luke and I look like we’ve known each other for years, rather than hours. And you can see a bit of the amazing chair. If I don’t go home with Luke tonight, it won’t be for lack of trying, since I’ve literally thrown myself into his lap. Hopefully, my hardcore flirting doesn’t jinx me into waking up with nothing more than a massive hangover. It’s silly, because I’ve never really pursued a guy before. My relationships have always happened organically over time. Then again, time is not something I have a lot of in Charlotte.

  “Text that to me, would you?” Luke asks.

  “Sure.” I press the screen. “What’s your number?”

  Luke recites his digits and I send him the picture.

  Luke’s lips touch my ear and a shiver rushes through me even before he speaks. “You know you’re fucking beautiful, right?”

  A smile tugs at my lips as he slips one hand under my shirt and curves the other around my upper thigh. Internally, I curse myself for wearing jeans. If I were in a skirt, he could be hitting a really sweet spot right now. The thought of Luke fingering me in a public place turns me on.

  Now that I’ve confirmed there’s a mutual attraction, I turn my head and catch his eyes. “If you think I’m beautiful now, you should see me naked in your bed.”

  “When?” he asks, seemingly unfazed by my bold comment. But I’m sitting on his lap, so it’s easy to tell it effects him.

  “Tonight.”

  “What the fuck are we doing here, then?” Luke tightens his arms around my waist, hugging me to his chest. He nuzzles his face into my neck and kisses me softly. My eyelids flutter, enjoying his warm lips against my skin. His slides his hand from my thigh and slips it under my shirt. Both thumbs skim the bare skin just below my bra.

  “Well, well! Look at you two getting cozy,” Kristen teases us. When I look up, she’s already holding her phone up capturing the moment with a flash.

  “I can’t wait to get you to my condo so I can push your face down into my pillow, lift your hips and fuck you from behind,” Luke whispers in my ear. “Would you like that?”

  “Totally,” I say, embracing the eighties vibe of the club as my heartbeat races in anticipation.

  “I need to eat,” Pavel announces.

  “Must feed the Russian bear,” Kristen says in a robotic accent that sounds more French than Slavic.

  “Bears,” Aleksandr echoes. “I’m starving, too.”

  I expect Luke to pat me or prod me to get up and follow his friends up the stairs, but he doesn’t. He squeezes me closer and kisses my temple.

  “I am not hungry for food right now. Wanna skip dinner and head straight to my place?” he asks.

  A tingle courses through my body and suddenly his touch is more intense than before. There’s no doubt in my mind that I’m fucking Luke Daniels tonight. But I really like hanging out with everyone else, too, so I don’t want to walk away from my new friends.

  “Ditching would be rude.”

  “Tease,” he says with a sly smile.

  “Anticipation, baby.” I jump to my feet, then offer Luke my hand to help him up. I know he doesn't need it; I just like touching him. My stomach flutters every time we make contact. I can’t even explain how excited he gets me.

  We trudge single file back up the dark staircase. Thankfully, it brings us out near an exit, so we filter straight out onto the sidewalk.

  “Basil?” Kristen asks as we walk toward the corner of Fifth and Church streets. “Is everyone cool with that?”

  “Do you like Thai food?” Luke asks.

  “Love it,” I answer honestly, though I’d go along with whatever place the group picked.

  Pavel holds the door to Basil open, ushering Kristen in first before the rest of us follow.

  “It smells amazing in here,” I say. The heavy scent of garlic permeates the air, so thick I can almost taste it. The promising possibility that there’s good Thai food in Charlotte makes me excited to check out the menu.

  Kristen cups her hand over her mouth and says, “I used to like the smell.” Her skin has a green undertone. She’s standing still, fingers covering a slight grimace and I think she’s going to be sick.

  I place my hand on her arm. “Are you feeling okay?”

  “Yeah, I . . .” Suddenly she lurches forward and runs toward the back of the restaurant, where I assume the bathrooms are. Auden follows on her heels.

  I’m about to go back with her to see if I can help when Aleksandr punches Pavel’s shoulder and says, “Nice work.”

  “She said she was craving this place. Do I tell her no, and get yelled at?” Pavel asks, throwing his hands up.

  The word craving strikes me as odd. I glance at Luke who has a confused expression on his face. We both look at Pavel.

  “She’s pregnant,” he confirms without being asked.

  “What?” Luke exclaims. His eyes light up, transforming his confusion into happiness. “Really?”

  Pavel nods and breaks into a huge smile.

  “Congratulations, man!” Luke leans over, grabs Pavel’s hand and pulls him in for one of those bro shoulder-bump things, the way guys hug these days.<
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  “Congratulations,” I tell him, though I’m thinking of all we’ve had to drink today and how Kristen kept up, doing shots and all. It’s a bit unsettling.

  “Thanks,” Pavel says. “We are happy. Really happy.”

  “Is everything okay?” Luke asks. His voice has taken on a more serious tone.

  “So far, so good. She’s really early, like ten weeks or something. But her doctors are watching her closely.”

  “I have cystic fibrosis,” Kristen explains. Her voice startles me and I turn around. “Everything’s good, just extra precautions.”

  “Do you want to go somewhere else, KK?” Auden asks.

  “I think we should head home. I thought the smell thing was getting better, but it looks like I still have an aversion to garlic.”

  “At least you didn’t puke,” Auden offers.

  “How were you doing shots?” I blurt out. There’s zero tact in my delivery, but I can’t help myself. My judgement may have just cost me my new friends, but I’m completely okay with that.

  “My shots were water. Why do you think I made Pasha do all the ordering?” Kristen winks. Then she adds, “But thanks for calling me out. I appreciate a person who does that.”

  A noticeable breath of relief escapes me. “Here.” I dig a piece of candy from my purse and hand it to Kristen.

  “What’s this for?” she asks inspecting it.

  “It’s lemon flavored. It should help the nausea,” I tell her.

  “Thanks.” Kristen unwraps the candy and pops it into her mouth.

  “Congratulations,” I tell her. “Let me know if I can help or answer any questions.”

  “Umm, okay,” she says slowly.

  “I’m a pediatric nurse,” I explain quickly. I got so comfortable with the group that I completely forgot they don’t know anything about me. “I’m not some creepy lady that offers people candy and says I can answer questions about pregnancy.”

  Kristen laughs. “I wasn’t sure where you were coming from with the questions thing, but I didn’t think you were creepy.”

  “I did.” Pavel raises his hand.

  “Of course you did.” Kristen rolls her eyes and pushes him toward the door. “Let’s go. I can’t smell this place any longer.”