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Faking It with the Billionaire Next Door: An Enemies-to-Lovers Romantic Comedy

Page 25

by Jolie Day


  Shit.

  Mom smiled warmly at me, and Rose took the opportunity to move silently away.

  “It’s no problem at all, Mom. Really.” I tried to keep her occupied while Rose silently rushed to the lounge and kicked the underwear further under the couch. She made it in the nick of time before my mom turned to look at her—and at a perfectly clean floor.

  “Oh! I see you’ve ordered in,” she said, looking around the apartment and noticing the Chinese food in the lounge.

  My mom turned to me and sighed with a smile. “You’re about to eat. I’ll leave you two, then. Next time, I’ll call ahead!” She was already walking to the door.

  “Are you sure, Mom? We have enough for three,” I offered, walking behind her, feeling guilty.

  “Of course I’m sure, dear.” She turned at the door. “And by the way, that elevator in this building, it’s so romantic. So nice and cozy. The beautiful mirrors and ornaments inside! I wish we’d had such a magical elevator in our apartment back when Charles and I were young. You two must love it. Am I right?”

  Jesus Christ. “Yeah,” I said curtly, refusing to get into that conversation.

  “Now you two have a lovely evening and Rose, honey, you settle in well, okay? Don’t you hesitate to reach out and tell me how I can be most helpful to you.”

  “Thanks, Helen,” Rose said from behind me, also sounding guilty.

  My mom kissed my cheek before I opened the door. “Toodles!” She waved cheerily as she walked toward the “magical elevator.” It was waiting for her. Once it swooshed closed, and she was on her way, I slowly closed the door and leaned my back against it.

  “Fuck,” I said in a whisper.

  Rose stood in front of me with her hand on her forehead, trying to recover from the embarrassment. “Oh. My. God.” She was also whispering, still worried that my mom was in the hallway behind the door.

  “I didn’t know she’d just pop around tonight,” I said, walking toward the lounge while Rose followed me. “She never surprise visits me. Sorry about that.”

  “It’s not your fault… But, you forgot your underwear.”

  I brightened up. “Yep, and so did you, missy.”

  “Yours was turned inside out!” She snorted with laughter.

  “So was yours.”

  “It was not.”

  “I was stressing my balls off that she’d see them. Great job, by the way. Thanks for handling that so expertly.”

  She held her smiling face, shaking her head. “No problem, really… I just felt like a naughty teenage girl.”

  “Oh yes—yes, you are,” I said, “greeting my mom wearing no panties. Bad girl. Calling me ‘Ducky’ again. Very bad girl.”

  She started running, squealing in delight, but not fast enough. I caught and tossed her onto the couch, plopping down beside her, my hand reaching for the delivery box. “All right. Let’s fucking eat. I’ll spank you later.”

  “All right… I mean, no! No spanking. All right?”

  “Wrong, my sweet Rose. Very wrong. You’re not getting out of it.”

  After I handed her a bowl and she took the remote to put a movie on, I couldn’t help but think about how happy I was that she was here. We’d had amazing talks, we’d had fantastic sex, we’d had an unexpected visit that she’d handled admirably well, we’d shared a hilariously embarrassing ordeal together, we’d laughed our asses off, and now we sat to eat junk food and watch movies, anticipating the night ahead.

  It felt good, and it felt right.

  That was the moment Daisy decided to jump up on the couch, snuggling up right between us. In my Daisy-cat-voice, I went, “Meow…uh…hello, humans?…Meow…Did you see the mouse I put under Mommy’s bed?”

  33

  MILES

  The next morning, we took my bike out to the countryside. Rose had asked—I was more than happy to oblige.

  I rushed to get us out of the bustling city streets and only slowed down somewhat when we reached the open road. Riding with Rose’s body wrapped around me made it somehow more enjoyable. Granted, I always had a great time riding this route, but with her here, I was sharing my experience. She pointed out everything that was beautiful—mountains, bridges, old buildings in the fields—and I could almost hear her “oohs” and “aahs” at the back of my neck. When we reached a little roadside shop about halfway through the drive, where Damon, Oliver, and I normally liked to stop for a break, I pulled off.

  “Want an ice cream?” I asked Rose over my shoulder.

  “Oh yes, please.” She sounded excited, like a child. “I love ice cream.”

  For some reason, I loved that she loved ice cream—honestly, what human didn’t love ice cream—but her enthusiasm and eagerness, it was addictive, it was contagious.

  She climbed off the bike and removed her helmet, admiring the view around us. I removed mine. It was breathtaking. There were mountains to one side, and a big winding river to the other. That’s why the guys and I loved to stop here—because we could sit, relax, and enjoy the view.

  But this time, I was here with Rose, and it might sound lame as shit, but she looked more beautiful to me right now than the scenic view. More beautiful than anything I’d ever seen. I sighed and shook my head to wake myself up. What was I thinking?

  Get a grip man. Remember, no fucking feelings. Business partners.

  We walked over to a bench, with our soft-serve ice creams in hand. A chocolate-hazelnut for her, a mango-vanilla for me. There, facing the view of the river, we sat in silence for a while, enjoying our cones.

  “You like it?” I turned my head to look at Rose.

  “Love it,” Rose said, licking.

  I tried to avert my gaze, but it was impossible. I couldn’t not be entranced by the cute way she was licking her ice cream, her little tongue gliding deliciously across the thick, melting cream. She licked and licked the treat, and all I could see was her licking something completely else. I watched her until she felt my gaze and turned her head to look at me.

  “What?” she asked.

  “You keep licking that ice cream, and don’t you ever stop,” I said, settling in to watch the show.

  She covered her mouth in embarrassment. “God, Miles, you never stop, do you?” she carried on licking.

  “Stop what? Not sure what you mean.”

  “Just… joking around. Making me laugh.”

  “You love it. Don’t even lie.”

  “I never said I didn’t.” She looked into my eyes, and it felt like a lifetime before she pulled her gaze from mine. “Back to business.”

  “Back to business?” I asked.

  “We need a proposal story, and then we need to tell your parents and family.” She raised her eyebrows, waiting for my answer.

  Huh. Didn’t expect that.

  “I didn’t know you were in such a rush to get that ring on your finger.”

  “Oh,” she said, her eyes wide. She was so taken aback she forgot her licking. “I thought, you know, because your mom was here and I, you know, officially moved in and all… but of course, we should wait a few more weeks until we announce it.”

  “Relax. It’s fine to plan ahead.” I hadn’t planned to make this trip about our pretend engagement, but she was right to discuss it, and now was a good time as any. “But I’m glad you want that ring on your finger.”

  “Okay, good,” she said, her tone reassured. “I’m relieved that you didn’t think that I was trying to rush you. Because I wasn’t—”

  “I did think that.”

  “You did?”

  “You tried to lock me down. Rush me, like we’re running out of time. Clearly. I’m not surprised, woman. Who wouldn’t want to seal the deal with this?” I gestured to my body.

  Playfully, she shoved at my arm, rolling her eyes. “So, what’s our proposal story?” She took another lick of her ice cream. Some of it had dripped on her fingers. She licked it off.

  “Ah, well,” I breathed out a sigh, trying to think. “You’re the mor
e romantic one. How should our fake proposal go down?”

  “Hmmm…” She pulled the one side of her mouth up as she thought. “You know what? It could be at a nice restaurant. Or, it could be at the top of the Empire State Building, you know, because of ‘Sleepless in Seattle.’”

  “Because of what?”

  “The movie? No? Oh, never mind. Men.” She waved her hand. “Let’s keep it simple. Let’s just say we went away for a weekend and that you’d made arrangements to get the honeymoon suite and asked me over dinner that evening.” She turned to me with a questioning look. “Good?”

  “Yeah, I like that. Sounds about right,” I said, shrugging my shoulders. This was new territory to me, and I had no idea how I would’ve done it. This sounded like the perfect setup that many women would’ve liked, although I couldn’t help but notice that Rose was less than excited about it.

  “How’d you have liked to have been asked, in real life?” I asked.

  Rose looked surprised by the question, but she didn’t have to think it over. “Well… it depends on the guy,” she said. “If we had a favorite place to go to together or someplace with history, you know, like a restaurant where we had our first date. That would be best. It can’t be one of those anonymous, inhospitable, and stuffy places that affluent people like to frequent. You know, with snooty waiters and ten forks. Rather a cute little place, family owned. Something you have fond memories of. It’s gotta be personal, like an inside joke.”

  “Got it.”

  “But for this, for us,” she said, “I think we should keep it as low-key as possible. Less room for error.”

  “Yeah.” I agreed and kept eating my ice cream. Rose was right. “We don’t want to get caught at the finish line. How about we call my parents in a few weeks and tell them? No need to make a big scene.” I was making a point to my dad, not the world. And the less extravagant the engagement, the less likely anyone was to call us out.

  “Cool.” Rose nodded. Her ice cream was finished, and she stood. “Are we gonna get going again?” she asked me with her hands on her hips, clearly impatient and excited to cuddle back up behind me and enjoy the freedom of the open road.

  “Aye-Aye, Ma’am,” I played along. I took the last bite of my cone, stood and threw our napkins into the trash. “Get your ass over to the bike.”

  “All righty… This is really relaxing, just like you said. It clears the mind.” She looked up toward the sky and closed her eyes as the sun warmed her face. “You know what, Miles?”

  “What?”

  “I’m really happy. I hope we can do that more often. It’s great fun.”

  “It is great fun,” I said, “I’m glad you’re enjoying it.”

  We headed back to my bike and picked up our helmets. “We’ve got another two or so hours of this route left.” I handed her helmet to her. “Your butt’s not hurting yet?”

  “No, I’m fine. Is yours?”

  “My butt’s fine. Stop thinking about my butt, woman.”

  “Okay. I’ll try my best.”

  “Okay, perfect, then let’s go.”

  “Let’s go!” she said with a cheerful expression and put her helmet on.

  I helped her with the strap, as usual, not without gently caressing her neck, then put my own on.

  The ride home was nice. I felt myself smiling at times, because I just felt content. The view, the wind, and the sun all contributed, not to mention the woman strapped to my body. Every now and then, I’d become aware of her, of her hands sliding around my waist, her legs squeezing against mine, her excitement when we picked up speed or turned a particularly fun corner.

  She was so different from other girls. She grabbed my attention—and fucking held it. I never felt bored around her. She actually was becoming a real friend, despite any sexual tensions or deals. We enjoyed spending time together, and it felt natural, easy.

  When we reached the city and stopped at a red light, I dropped my hand and squeezed her knee, just because I could. She squeezed my waist in return, making my heart smile. An unusual sense of regret about us being back home hit me. I should’ve picked a longer route. I was almost sad. Because I knew I had to let this thing go, the animal in me screaming, urging: “I want fucking more.” My stomach ached just thinking about the day this would soon be over.

  What the fuck was I doing? I needed to control myself.

  I was getting so wrapped up in having her around, I needed to remember that she wasn’t my girlfriend.

  I needed to remind myself that I couldn’t get possessive with this one. I couldn’t get jealous with this one. I couldn’t fall in love with this one. Mostly, I couldn’t get attached to this one. Not like I had with Sarah.

  But, Rose made me feel something, and that was more terrifying than anything else. However, every time I reminded myself of these things, my resolve about not having my fucking heart torn out in shambles became weaker and weaker.

  Somehow, now, with Rose, it seemed not only possible but also worth it.

  34

  MILES

  A few weeks passed.

  We were about four months in—where the fuck did all the days go—and it was time to announce our pretend engagement. Rose and I were living the lie. And by living the lie I meant we were together all the time—apart from a couple of business trips I had to take—hanging out, chilling, even evening shopping for groceries. She visited her friend Juliette from time to time, and I saw the guys, but at most nights we came back home to each other. Sex became a regular thing—it was pretty fucking fantastic and neither of us had any objections.

  The only rule we had was that we slept in our own beds afterwards, to avoid cuddling or sharing a bedroom, because we both silently knew that would complicate things even further.

  And, for the record, it was her idea, not mine. She said no cuddling. Whatever.

  So, sex became this activity that we’d do for fun—on the couch, against the kitchen counter, in the shower, anywhere we wanted to really, on my bike, hell yeah, baby—before accepting our fate and going our separate ways to our rooms.

  Sounds great?

  Yeah, almost.

  The thing was that I wanted her to sleep in my bed. I wanted to hold her after sex. But it wasn’t just the sex. I also wanted to call her up around lunchtime every day to find out how her day was going. I know, sounds pathetic. So, I didn’t do it. I know, even more pathetic.

  This loud voice in my head was telling me that I created this deal for a reason, that life would go back to normal and ultimately, that was the goal—not to fall in love. That same fucking dick-bag voice would shout out that I’d made a pact with myself, that I wouldn’t let another woman in, and never to hit fucking rock bottom again.

  So, what was I doing? I was walking on a cliff edge. That’s what I was doing. Safe on the one side, with my inheritance and my job and the life I knew, risky on the other, with this huge ass long drop toward a life unknown: A life with Rose in it.

  Problem one: I had no fucking idea what was happening with “my feelings” or whatever the fuck it was or how to deal with it.

  Problem two: I had no idea how she felt.

  If this was a normal situation, I would’ve asked her on a date and figured things out as we went. But, we were in a different situation. We were living a contractual life—a make-believe life. A life with an expiration date. Best I could do was to remain in denial, enjoying the time I had with Rose while she was here. I knew she was enjoying it, too, and not just riding it out because she needed the money and the place to stay.

  “Okay, are you ready?” Rose asked me, surprising me out of my state of deep thought.

  I turned to her, averting my gaze from the window to a forest of trees.

  We were at a spa for the weekend, and she’d just walked into my suite from the adjoining room. I’d decided to make this proposal seem as classic and as real as possible, and, secretly, to treat Rose a bit. We had the all-inclusive package, so she’d already been for a full body mas
sage and some kind of hand and foot pampering.

  I’d, of course, made sure we had separate rooms as well, so we could keep Rose’s “own bedroom, no cuddling” rule alive.

  When I turned around, I saw Rose looked pretty. She was wearing a white sundress, and her hair hung in curls over her shoulder. She looked radiant after her pampering, comfy and not nervous at all.

  “Yeah, I’m ready,” I said, “Let’s do it from the couch.” I gestured for her to take a seat first then sat down next to her, putting my arm around her shoulders and getting comfortable. “Ready?” I asked Rose.

  She took a deep breath in and then nodded.

  I pressed the call button. Dad answered, sitting in the sunroom at their house, and from what I could see, looking at ease.

  “Hey, son,” he said. “Fancy hearing from you on a Sunday afternoon. Unexpected. Rose. Nice to see you, too. How are things going?”

  “Hey, Dad,” I said, while Rose gave him a wave with a large smile. “We’re doing pretty well, actually. Is Mom around?”

  “Here, honeys!” We heard her cheerful voice, and Dad turned his phone slightly to reveal my mom sitting on the couch right next to him, a book in her lap.

  “Okay, great. Well, we have some news.” I looked at Rose and pulled my lips into a happy smile. “Why don’t you show them, Baby?”

  Rose lifted her left hand and waved the engagement ring we’d bought yesterday.

  “We’re engaged!” she said excitedly.

  “What?!” my Mom’s voice shrieked. “Are you serious, children? Show me that ring properly, honey!” My mom basically had her nose to the camera as she was trying to get up close to see the ring, rearranging her glasses.

  I smiled at her but felt slightly stressed about my father’s silence.

  Rose began telling our story, just as we had agreed upon. “Miles booked this weekend away for us. We went to a resort with an amazing spa and a beautiful restaurant. I had no idea, everything happened so quickly.” She turned and kissed my cheek while holding my chest. I kissed the top of her head.

 

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