Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 97466 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97466 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
“Yeah,” I said softly. “Obviously, it was Frank. So what if we set a deadline right now and agree to it ahead of time? You and I can be boyfriends—fake boyfriends—until the day after the wedding. January first, we walk away with no guilt or pressure. Easy-peasy.”
His eyes narrowed. “Easy-peasy?”
I shrugged. “Not really. But no more difficult than it’s already been staying away from you. Heck, leaving you today would be hard. At least this way, at least we’d end things on a positive note. You already know I enjoy spending time with you. I love sleeping with you. That’s just how it is. Only… in this proposed scenario, I get more of what I like before leaving it behind. That’s a good thing.”
Lies. All lies. But I was desperate. And desperate people were really fucking stupid.
Oscar’s forehead furrowed. “You’re sure?”
I nodded. “Absolutely.”
I was getting good at this lying thing.
He snuggled back against my chest. “I, uh… I was thinking about something like this,” he reluctantly admitted, the words warm against my skin. “A little while ago. I like going to events with you. I like being alone with you too. And I don’t just mean the sex. I like talking to you. You… understand me. Maybe better than anyone. And it’s been a while since I’ve had a good cuddle. Don’t usually let it happen with hookups anymore. Gives them the wrong idea. Love ideas.”
The poor, sweet man. He’d had a thousand and one hookups and a billion quasi-boyfriends before that, but somehow, he didn’t seem to understand that when you found a person you liked going out with and staying home with, talking and cuddling and having sex with, who understood you better than anyone… that was love.
But maybe… maybe… I could show him, if he gave me the chance.
I ran my hands up and down his bare back, trying to hold back a massive sigh of relief at my temporary stay of execution.
“I won’t get the wrong idea,” I said, practicing the same careful truth-telling I’d used at Abby’s party the day before. “Trust me, I know exactly where I stand with you, Oscar.”
He didn’t speak for a moment. “It’s not because I don’t care about you. I hope you know that.”
I let out a soft huff. “I know.”
“I care about you a lot. A lot.”
I bit my lip to keep from smiling. “I know that too.”
Oscar was quiet again for several minutes. He ran a lazy fingertip in patterns across my shoulder. Finally, he said, “So, you finally got to meet the Flower Family.”
“Mmhm.”
Silence fell again. I waited for him to reveal his thoughts.
“Crazy, right? Chaotic and loud. Eccentric, really.”
I moved a hand up into his hair and scratched his scalp lightly. “I liked them very much, and it’s clear they adore you.”
“They’re genuinely grateful for everything I’ve done to help them, getting Birch’s career off the ground and introducing him to my mother,” Oscar corrected, his fingers still gentle on my skin. “They adore my mom.”
I snorted and put a hand on his chest, pushing him back so I could see his eyes. “How could you possibly be that smart and so fucking wrong?”
His eyes widened comically. “Wrong? No. Did you not see the way they were with her? They call her Mom, and—”
“Not about that.” I shifted until my back was against the headboard. “Oscar, are you grateful to Arco Steel?”
He looked confused for a moment. “What do you know about Arco Steel?”
“I may have… read an article or two about you at one point in our friendship.” I cleared my throat and waved this away. What was a casual bit of internet stalking among friends? “Irrelevant. The point is, I know they were one of your early investors. They helped your company get to the next level, right?”
“Well… yes, but—”
“Do you invite the shareholders to Sunday brunch, Oscar? Do you tell them to stop by for Thanksgiving? Do you spend as much time as possible at the CEO’s Vermont estate because it makes you feel close to him and because you hope he might be around so you can see him for an hour or two? Does Frank call the company president Uncle? And if he did, would the president buy enough cookies to send his entire Girl Scout troop to Puerto Vallarta?” I shook my head. “Those people love you, Oscar. And you love them. You can call them stepsiblings until the cows come home, but it won’t change who they are to you… or who you are to them.”
Just like calling us “fake” boyfriends wouldn’t make the way I felt about him any less real.
Oscar’s nose twitched, and he looked away. After a moment, he excused himself and left the room.
I exhaled sharply. I’d pushed too hard. Great job, Linzee. You can’t even keep a fake boyfriend around for more than ten minutes.