Fake Hearts and Kisses (Fake #1)

10. CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER EIGHT

BLAKE

Now

I wake early to find Daisy wrapped around me, her arm’s thrown over my waist, legs intertwined in mine. Her sweet floral scent fills my nose as I breathe her in, trying to trap it in my memory. Last night was the best night of my life. Better than even the first time I sank into her. She’d woken me up with her mouth, trailing light kisses from my stomach to my cock. The heat of her mouth enveloped me as she took me deep until I hit her throat. I came so fast, her mouth working me, the little purring sounds she’d made sending me over the edge quicker than I wanted. It took me a minute to recover, but I again savored her, licking every inch of her.

My cock stiffens at the thought. Daisy makes a little sound, and I still. I lie next to her, relishing the moment. She shifts, untangling our legs, and turns over onto her back, the sheets slipping to expose the soft mound of her breast. Dread floods through me because this is it. The end.

I slowly slide off the bed so I don’t disturb her. In the doorway, I pause, looking at Daisy as she sleeps. The charm bracelet I gave her is securely latched around her wrist, which is thrown above her head. Messy, tangled hair fans out on the pillow around her head. I’ll never see her like this again. All her softness and curves. I’ll never hear her laugh or her soft moans again. I close my eyes, unable to bear the thought.

Out in the living room, I dress quickly, throwing on the same sweater I wore last night. As I slip it over my head, I’m filled with the floral scent of her perfume. I breathe it in for a moment, savoring the slight earthy tones mixed with the musky smell of sex. Her scent is all over me, and I’m taking it with me.

You got what you wanted, Blake.

So why do I feel so miserable?

I wanted to have her, and I did. Now it’s over and done. I move on; she moves on. Maybe I’ll see her again, maybe I won’t.

Note to self: Do not go to the coffee shop to look for her. Your creeper stalker days are over. Daisy only came to you because there were no strings, no emotions, and no promises to break.

I was safe for her to explore. She hinted at a hurt that runs deep enough that it must be terrifying to commit to anyone. Daisy made sure I wanted nothing from her other than this weekend, and now it’s over.

And it fucking feels awful.

Something changed between us yesterday. The idea of having Daisy was so consuming that I didn’t stop to feel this winding-up pain that sucks my breath away at the thought of never seeing her again. At the thought of stepping out of the car and walking away from her.

I’m so fucking stupid.

This is what I do. Every. Single. Time. With everything . I come up with a brilliant plan; it goes perfectly, then I fuck it up because I want more. I crave more. I need more.

I knew going into this that Daisy wouldn’t be mine after this weekend, but I pushed and took the small bits she offered, eating it up like I was starving. I had watched her for months, knowing I couldn’t have her, then the second I could get close, I jumped, knowing I would want more than a friendly weekend. Knowing that even though we discussed it beforehand, I would try for more, even though I’d never be what she wanted, no matter what I did. And yet, that stupid small part of my brain hoped she’d want me for more.

More. More. More . I always want more.

This is what landed my ass in jail. This is what has led me to this very miserable moment right now. I want more. More than I can have. More than life wants to give me. Even though I went into this mad plan with Daisy, knowing damn well I couldn’t be with her, even knowing this was temporary. I still want more.

I want to be more.

I want to be the Blake she thinks walks to work because he wants to, not because it’s part of his parole. The Blake who taught himself how to cook because he enjoyed it and not out of desperation to survive. She deserves the Blake who didn’t sit for months in jail, stole a car, or hacks into fucking banks. She deserves the Blake that buys pretty little charm bracelets with money he earned, not money he stole.

I put my head into my hands, gripping my hair at the scalp. I’m so sick of pretending. Of being fake.

“Blake?”

I drop my hands to my lap at the sound of her voice, looking up to give her a warm smile. Fake Blake, but this smile is hers. “Good morning,”

She doesn’t smile back, and my heart sinks. “We have to go back today.”

I stand and busy myself with my bag, pretending to check over my items so she can’t see the emptiness her words create written over my face.

Toothpaste. Check.

Socks. Check.

Daisy. No check .

I shove the items around the bag blindly, doing my best to ignore the tightness in my chest. “Do you want me to drive?”

She doesn’t speak right away, and it feels like the knot in my chest twists around my collarbones.

“No,” she says. “I’ll drive.”

I hear the bathroom door close, and I let out a long, heavy breath.

The drive back is going to be fucking torture.

A knock at the door sends my jumbled nerves over the edge, and my entire body jerks, my teeth grinding. I stalk to the door and swing it open too fast .

“Good morning,” Daisy’s mother says. “May I come in?”

I step aside, my thoughts moving in a million different directions, but you’d never know it by how I give her a smile, stepping aside.

“Are you both packed and ready?” Heather asks. She eyes the room and sees my bag on the couch. “Did you enjoy this weekend?”

“It’s been wonderful,” I tell her, the fake Blake smile plastered on my face.

She walks around the room, eyeing me. Her head turns in the direction of the bathroom. Hearing the shower running, her face changes. It loses the happy, motherly expression as she steps close to me, stopping just inches away. Whatever smoothly constructed front she wears falls to the floor, and her eyes bore into me. Her finger runs over my chest, the nail scratching on the fabric, and she stops at my heart, jabbing the manicured nail through the threads. I resist stepping back from her viperous glare.

“If you hurt my daughter, you’ll regret the day you ever laid eyes on her.” Her voice grates over my skin. “You better be everything you say you are. ”

She backs away with a sweet smile, like she didn’t just spit venom in my eyes. Heather walks to the door and opens it. “Have a safe drive home.”

# # #

I’m right. The drive is awful. Thankfully, we take a break from the quiet drive a few hours in and stop at the same small diner we visited on the way up here. Daisy has smiled at my jokes, and even laughed a few times, but she isn’t present like she has been for the last two days. I am scared she regrets this. Me.

I’m even more terrified her mother has somehow figured out who I am. That could be a problem. An immense problem.

I watch her exit the car and walk to the door, taking a minute to calm myself. I catch up and open the door with a wide smile, watching her scan the diner until her gaze lands on the same booth we sat in two days ago. Daisy orders her food, picking the same items she had on our last visit, and I watch her pick at the fries, swirling them around in ketchup. She takes a small nibbles, her eyes moving to the door, her plate—everywhere else but me. I watch her wrap her lips around the straw, sipping her water, and think about how her mouth tastes. How she tastes. How her tongue slid over mine so naturally it was like we were made to kiss each other and only each other. It’s overwhelming, so I close my eyes, and I have to look away. When I look back, her eyes dart away.

“What are your plans when we get back?” she asks me suddenly.

I take a sip of soda to distract myself, trying to think of what to say. What am I going to do? “There are a few projects I’ve been working on. I’ll probably start those.”

“New banks to pretend to hack?” A slight smirk breaks the tension. She relaxes back in her seat.

My heart trembles, but I give her my fake smile. “Maybe.”

She keeps smiling and finally eats her food. Maybe she hasn’t been stewing, thinking about how much she’s regretting bringing me, or worse, regretting fucking me. Perhaps she’s just feeling confused, try to process the last two days. She could just feel strange sharing so many intimate things with me. Her family, her thoughts, her entire body. I’m little more than a stranger.

That’s right, Blake. You are a stranger. You may have watched her like a fucking creep almost three days a week for eight weeks, looked at every image she posted and dissected the meaning behind them, and examined her entire family and her friends, but she didn’t know you existed.

Fuck . When I think about it like that, I’m such an asshole. Not just an asshole, but a demented one at that. I can justify that I didn’t break into Daisy’s emails or file storage, but I’d be lying to myself if I tried to say that somehow made me better.

This is why I can’t be with her, even if she wants me. I’m bad.

Shoves her plate away, she rubs her belly, sighing. I pay the bill with my stolen money, give her a fake smile, tell her a stupid joke, and pretend that her laughter doesn’t make me wish I was better. Different.

Back in the car, she falls back into an uneasy silence. The closer we get to town, the heavier the air in the car feels. I watch the clock on the dash, then avoid it altogether. Then I check my phone to see if time magically went backward, and I have her for a few more minutes, but it’s the same. Time just ticks away. Every minute right before it has passed feels like the best gift because I’m next to her, but then it’s gone, and then every moment with her becomes another second closer to when she’s gone, making that tightness in my chest feel like it’s creeping up and strangling me.

I want to ask her if she has this tightness too because if she does, then we did something without knowing it, and the consequences of the last two days mean we’re both being strangled on the inside.

“Did my mother threaten you this weekend?”

My head swivels in her direction so fast my eyes practically spin out. Daisy grips the steering wheel, her entire body stiff.

“My mother likes to corner her children’s partners and make threats.” Daisy smiles. “I think she likes to watch them squirm.”

My entire body relaxes back into the seat. “Heather came to the cabin this morning.”

“Was it a threat to ruin your life or remove your manhood?”

I unclench my jaw. “I think it was my life, but I’m pretty sure removing my dick would be like ruining my life, so maybe both, though she didn’t specify.”

She nods, and the car falls quiet again. We spend the rest of the drive making small talk. I tell her more stupid jokes; we share laughs about what her family said on the trip and how mortified Forest must be.

She laughs loudly. “Traumatized is more like it.”

And then it settles again in the car. The realization we are almost back.

After fighting traffic downtown and throwing out a handful of curse words, she stops in front of the coffee shop, looking at the sign in the window. The air in the car is heavy. It’s obvious I don’t want to leave because I’m making no move to open the door. She isn’t kicking me out, so I sit and wait for her to speak.

“You really don’t like coffee?” she asks after we’ve been sitting there too long.

“I hate it,” I tell her.

“Did you really see me in the library and follow me here?”

“Yes.”

“Two months ago?”

Yes,” I say. I want to tell her she doesn’t have to ask me again. None of that was fake.

Just everything else about me.

She finally tears her gaze off the sign over the door, meeting my eyes. There is a strange slant to her mouth, like a grin mixed up with a grimace. “You know, if you weren’t so hot, that would be really creepy.”

“Because hot guys aren’t stalkers.” I smile, but this time it’s my genuine smile.

“Exactly,” she says. She looks back at the coffee shop.

“Are you writing a book?” I ask. “When you become a full-time writer?”

She looks at me strangely for a second, then nods. “Yeah.” Her eyes fall to my hands. “I’ve written five books.”

“Five?”

She nods.

“That’s a lot, Daisy.”

She nods again.

“I think you may already have a writing career,” I say, turning in my seat to face her.

She laughs. “They aren’t published.”

“Yet.”

She looks back at the coffee shop. “Yet,” she agrees.

“Then I’ll look for your name in the bookstores.” I brush the hair from her face and tuck it behind her ear. How did I not notice her tiny ears? Four little studs run up her earlobe and another one in the cartilage up top. It’s now I realize I never kissed her ear. How did I not kiss her tiny little ears? I’m a fucking idiot. That tightness gets worse. I need air. Gripping the handle, I shove the door open, ready to escape before I grab her and kiss her ears, her face, and every single freckle on her cheeks.

“Blake?”

Please don’t say anything sweet or funny. It will make leaving the car impossible.

“Thank you,” she says to my back. “You made this weekend special.”

With a smile that feels as fake as me, I step from the car, grabbing my bag from the back seat. If I walk fast, I won’t feel how bad this sucks. It will feel less shitty knowing I’m leaving the most perfect woman because I don’t deserve her. The tightness in my chest will disappear when I’m not around her anymore, and I’ll forget this weekend. I’ll forget her. My life will go back to normal.

“Blake!”

My jaw, my hands, my entire body clenches at the sound of her calling my name. Her shoes scruff on the sidewalk as she stops behind me. She is not making this any easier.

“Blake,” she says my name again.

I turn to face her, still clenching my bag. “Yes, Daisy? ”

“So…” She looks around, down to her feet, at my bag, again everywhere but at me. “The next Conner Family Gathering will be soon.” She stills and looks down at my shoes before looking me in the eyes. She searches my face for a second before a smile tugs at the corner of her mouth. “And I’ll need my fake boyfriend to come with me.”

That tightness in my chest suddenly breaks, the band around my chest snapping, freeing my lungs it was holding too tightly. I can breathe again. I drop my bag to the sidewalk and cup Daisy’s face, rubbing my thumb over her lips.

“You need your fake boyfriend with you?” I ask to make sure. “To defend you from your shitty sister?”

“Yes.” The small smile breaks into a massive grin. “Exactly.”

Hoping she can’t see the excitement rippling through me, I breathe in slowly to calm my racing heart. She wants to see me again.

Again.

She wants this, me , again.

“I think that would be a good idea,” I say. “They would never believe you dumped me. I’m amazing.”

She laughs and clasps her hands over mine. “So, I’ll see you soon? ”

I lean down to kiss the tip of her nose. She looks so earnest, practically begging me to say yes. So beautiful. “You know where to find me when it’s time.”

Until then, I will do everything in my power to become everything she needs.