Not Safe For Work: A Steamy Fake Dating Romance

Chapter 13

The seagullsoutside my window sound like pterodactyls this morning. I wake up and immediately cover my ears with the pillow. The screeching feels like it’s burrowing into my skull.

It only takes a second to remember why my head is pounding. Mixing wine and rum was not the best idea.

A quick check to my phone confirms that it is thankfully Sunday, and I can stay in bed as long as I wish. It’s only nine-thirty. But seeing I have several unread text messages has me upright and alert.

I decide to click on Gavin’s first. It’s from an hour ago and I might as well rip off the Band-Aid to see if I did something embarrassing last night.

Gavin Scott:

Hope your hangover isn’t too prickly

Of course, it’s followed by another adorable picture of Churro, and then another text.

Gavin Scott:

Left your keys on the kitchen counter

My brain is trying to quickly figure out what this text means. Gavin was in my apartment? This is when I realize I’m still wearing my dress from last night. He must have brought me back here after I passed out or something.

I guess it could be worse but I’m still a bit rattled by it. I rarely drink that much. But I also rarely have that much fun. And then I remember Lucy. Oh no…

(232) 018-9779:

THIS IS LUCY GOLDS PHONE. YOUR PHONE DIED BUT SHE WANTS YOU TO HAVE HER NUMBER. YOURE BASICALLY BEST FRIENDS NOW OMG OMG OMG

Oh my god. Do I message her back to apologize? Or never use the number in hopes that she doesn’t actually see this message? I decide to let that simmer, but I save her name in my phone, just in case. And then, to my absolute shock, a new message comes in.

Lucy Gold:

Hi Olivia! It was great meeting you last night. We’re in town until tomorrow and decided it would be fun to visit wine country. Could you recommend some places that are dog friendly? And if you’re free, I’d love for you to join us. Let me know!

I chug a glass of water to clear away the tiny daggers in my throat and pull up her contact. I may feel like I spent the night being pummeled by a stampede, but I will not turn down another chance to hang out with Lucy Gold.

Me:

Mind if I call you?

A few moments later my phone rings.

“Hey, Lucy.”

“Liv! I’m so glad you’re not one of those ‘I only text’ people. It’s so much easier having an actual conversation sometimes.”

“I couldn’t agree more.” I know we aren’t hosting any events today so I tell Lucy that I can give them a special tour of Diamond Sky, and that there are several other wineries close to my family’s that we can check out. And while Napa can get a little snooty, most places in Sonoma are dog friendly.

“Amazing!” She squeals over the phone. “Henry’s finding us a limo now, so no one has to drive. I’ll text you when we have an ETA.”

I jump in the shower even as my body is screaming at me to go back to bed. Adrenaline is my best friend right now.

Trying to decide what to wear, I can’t help thinking of Gavin and his comment about my dress last night. I should text him back.

Me:

I’m so sorry if I fell asleep on you. Thanks for getting me home safe!

He immediately responds.

Gavin Scott:

Isn’t that what fake boyfriends are for?

I’m sure he’s sick of me by now, but I feel compelled to invite him. We were all together last night, so I doubt Lucy would mind.

Me:

Going to stop by the winery today with Lucy and her friends. Do you wanna come?

Promise I won’t be drinking too much – no fake boyfriend duties

The typing bubble appears but minutes pass before I get an answer.

Gavin Scott:

Can’t. Rugby

I wait again, assuming more is coming. His other texts always feel so warm and friendly. But I get nothing.

He’s busy, I tell myself, and also, not my boyfriend. Sure, we had fun last night, but that doesn’t make this relationship suddenly real.

I check the weather app to find it’s the perfect day for a sundress in Sonoma. I grab one from my closet that my mother hates. It’s bright yellow and the entire hem is lined in frothy pink bows. I add a denim jacket on top that’s studded with pearls and tiny crystals, mimicking a clear night sky, and some simple white sneakers because my feet are still throbbing from last night.

I have five minutes before Lucy’s group arrives, based on her last text, so I do a quick once-over in the big mirror to make sure I look okay.

I love this outfit. My hair is still wet from the shower but I leave it down to dry in natural curls, even if it’ll be a little wild. The jacket sparkles every time I turn, and another crystal catches the light.

Feeling the best I have in a long time, I take a quick video to send Gavin, popping my shoulder back and forth to show off how it glimmers.

Me:

Sparkly enough for ya?

Excitement rolls through me as I see a limo pull up outside my window. I toss my phone in the crossbody bag I’m wearing, and I head out the door.

Exhaustion hitsme hard when I get home and flop down on my bed. But I have zero regrets. Running around Sonoma with Lucy was almost as fun as last night. At one point, after she was pretty sloshed, she opened up to me about her ex, and how she fell in love with Henry. Her story was so hopeful it made me believe in real life fairy tales.

Then she went on and on about the way Gavin looked at me last night. She said that if she had to describe it in a book, she would write that his eyes were full of more pine than a Christmas tree farm.

I did my best to pretend like her words didn’t matter, but I spent the whole ride home forcing myself not to check my phone and see if he’d responded. Graham and Jayce were also great distractions. They went crazy for the archery practice field on our property. They loved it so much we never actually made it to another winery. We only left to have a picnic in Sonoma Square.

Now that I’m alone and free to process my emotions without any judgment, I open up my messaging app with the same fervor of opening a birthday present.

Nothing. Well, nothing from Gavin.

I do have a couple messages from an unknown number though.

(473) 860-5515:

I have thought of nothing all day but you in that black dress

Put me out of my misery and call me back?

I check my call log and see two missed calls from the same number. One is from last night around ten-thirty, right before my phone died, and another from this afternoon.

It must be a wrong number, except the comment about the black dress has me curious. I’m sure lots of women wore a black dress this weekend. It just seems a little too convenient. I think, deep down, I know it’s Tristan. But I find myself searching for any other scenario that doesn’t further complicate this entire situation.

Maybe I should just delete the messages. Or maybe I should get it over with.

Me:

Who is this?

My phone starts ringing a few seconds later, making me jump off the bed. It’s the same number as the texts.

“Hello?”

“Olivia,” Tristan says, stretching my name into something overtly sensual. “She lives.”

I want to ask how he got my number, but I’m also still worried about coming off rude. Mitch might think I pissed him off with the initial rejection, but that doesn’t seem to be the case. Now I’m just trying to salvage whatever weird working relationship we still have.

“I was worried about you,” he continues. “When you ran off last night, I asked the group at your table if anyone had your number.”

“Sounds like I need to give my family members a lesson on privacy.” I immediately regret my words because they’re sure to offend him, but he just starts laughing.

“I guess I lucked out, then. Have dinner with me.” It’s not a question. The confidence he showed last night is still there, like the multiple times I’ve turned him down don’t exist. It’s not not attractive.

“Tonight? It’s a little late.” My clock just turned nine.

“Any night you want, Olivia.” The way he says my name makes me sound like a rich chocolate dessert, or maybe a fine wine, something to be savored.

“Sorry, I think I have plans,” I reply, grinning into my phone.

“Sounds like I’ll just have to wait until those other plans get boring. I’ll see you soon, Olivia.” He hangs up before I can say another word.