Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 67432 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67432 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
“Would it be so bad if you did?” Yvette asked.
“Yes, considering he said he’s with someone.”
“So how are you going to be fake boyfriends? Wouldn’t the family know about the other one?” Tristan pointed out before taking a big swig of his rosé.
“Maybe the family doesn’t know about the other one yet,” I said with a shrug.
“Then it must not be all that serious.” Tristan arched a brow, Yvette nodding her approval. These two weren’t helping the situation at all. Why were they poking all these holes into my carefully crafted excuses?
Our conversation was put on indefinite hold as more knocks announced the last of the arrivals. Tia and Jess were standing next to Jake and Noah, the four of them looking like the brochure of a Pride parade with Noah’s rainbow shirt and Tia’s rainbow shoes practically glowing under the hallway lights.
I let my friends in, grabbing the tray of freshly baked fudge brownies from Jess, the scent of them already making my mouth water.
“What’s up, guys?” Noah asked as he sat down on the love seat.
“Oh, nothing,” Tristan said. “Just talking about how Eric is seconds away from agreeing to a trip to France with his future fake husband.”
That was the moment our entire book club night devolved into an attempt at getting me to say yes to the fake-boyfriend mess.
And by the end of the night, I had to admit they were getting me pretty close.
6
COLTON COOPER
Tonight was a royal fucking hot mess.
It wasn’t supposed to be. I had planned on attending Eric’s book club and making some new friends before I was set to spend the night with Shane, the guy I’d been talking to recently. He wanted to watch a recent release on Netflix—which I had assumed meant we’d be dealing with a whole different kind of release by the end of the night.
So imagine how surprised I was when Shane texted me saying he wanted to talk. We didn’t even get to the “boom-boom” intro for the movie before Shane was telling me he had to cut things off.
“Are you serious?” I asked him, standing in his barely furnished living room, looking at his unshaven face and expecting a loud laugh any second now. Shane didn’t have the best sense of humor, but even for him, this was a pretty dumb joke.
“It’s not a joke.”
Oh.
“Seriously?” I echoed. “Why? We were planning a trip to Disney just yesterday.”
“I know— that’s mainly why. I’ve gotten a little too connected with you. You’re a great guy, Colt. A catch, hands down, no cap.” He played with the rounded tongue of his hat, flipping it backward. “But I’ve already got a boyfriend. Fiancé, actually. He’s been deployed this entire time. He comes back next week, and I don’t want our relationship to get ruined.”
My jaw dropped as my head fell forward. “You have a whole-ass fiancé fighting somewhere overseas, and you have the balls to sleep over at my house nearly every night?”
“He’s a doctor, actually, but—”
“I don’t give a fuck if he’s Cher. You’re an asshole.”
“If it makes you feel better, I wasn’t with anyone else. Just you.”
I huffed out a disbelieving breath. Lightning crackled overhead, bathing his living room in a bright white light. “Yeah, just me and your soon-to-be husband. Jesus. I should have known. I should have realized you were talking to someone with all those text messages you’d send.” I winced, hating how quickly I had fallen for this big-dicked douche bag. It seemed like every guy before him was a dud, so when we’d stayed up to see the sunrise on our first date, lying naked and spent in his bed after a night of some of the best sex of my life, I really felt like I’d found someone who was boyfriend material. Beyond the sexual chemistry, the conversation between us was always fun and sometimes even enlightening. Shane had studied history in college and always had some kind of interesting fact to spill, connecting past with present.
Too bad there’d be no more future. Not between us.
“Does your fiancé know?” I asked, already assuming the answer.
“No, he doesn’t. And I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t say anything to him. We’ve fooled around before but never got into something as serious as you and I got.”
I shook my head, the disgust rising in me like bile. He even said it. Admitted that we were serious, more so than any of his other flings from the past. And what if his fiancé hadn’t been coming home for another year? Would I have been strung along the entire time, developing stronger and stronger feelings, until Shane grabbed the knife and plunged it through my ribs? Thankfully we’d only been dating for a few weeks, so it wasn’t like I wasted tons of time on this douche, but it still fucking sucked.