Not Safe For Work: A Steamy Fake Dating Romance

Chapter 19

“I don’t needboth of these,” I say to Gabby when she hands me two massive breakfast sandwiches wrapped in foil.

“One’s for Olivia, you doof.”

“Wow. You’re finally coming around to her?” I ask. I know they bonded a little during game night, but Gabby has been so against this fake relationship that it’s made me worry she’d be just as against a real one. Not that I’m delusional enough to think Liv wants to be my girlfriend. But I’d be lying if I said there haven’t been moments.

Liv is always a bit frazzled. Ever since the first interview with her I’ve been aware of the energy she gives off. I find it endearing, but I also love how relaxed she is when we’re together. That has to mean something.

“I’ll admit, she was a very helpful addition to game night,” Gabby replies. “Now that Daanesh is always too busy for us, having a fourth really opens up the game options.” I give her a look. She’s really going to act like she’s coming around just because Liv is another warm body? “And she’s fun, okay? And like, stupid hot. I get why you like her. Just please don’t let her break your heart. I’d really prefer not to commit a felony before I’m twenty-five.”

“Thanks for looking out, Gabs. But I’m the one who takes care of you, remember?”

I grab my bags and head to the door when I notice the Uber’s waiting.

“It doesn’t always have to be a one-way street, you know,” Gabby yells as I leave.

Liv is justas surprised about Gabby’s breakfast sandwich as I was.

“Thank god your sister doesn’t hate me anymore. I was starving. And this is delicious.”

“Yeah, she’s a really good cook. I don’t know what I would eat if we didn’t live together,” I reply.

“You’d live off wine and cheese like I do,” Liv offers, a wide smile stretching from her lips. Last night was the third time we’ve shared wine and cheese together. She calls it “girl dinner,” whatever that means.

“That doesn’t sound so bad.” And it doesn’t, if it always includes her.

“So tell me what I need to know about flying with you,” she says, turning to me in the back of the car. “You take medicine, right?”

This catches me off guard, but I guess I did tell her about my motion sickness a couple weeks ago. The truth is that I get migraines. I can’t tell if they make the motion sickness worse or if it’s the motion sickness that sets off the migraines. Either way, it isn’t pretty.

I don”t love the idea of Liv seeing me in my weakest state, but with a four-hour flight ahead of us, I don’t have much choice.

“It’s no big deal,” I lie, wanting to downplay it as much as I can. “I have some pills I’ll take before we leave that help a lot. But they make me pretty sleepy so don’t be surprised if I zonk out right away.”

“I can handle that,” she says with a cheery expression. I definitely appreciate the optimism.

Maybe Liv hassome magical powers because the flight does go well. I sleep the whole time and only wake up once to find myself leaning on her shoulder. This medicine knocks me out hard. I really hope I didn’t drool.

I’m still drowsy as hell when we get off the plane in Puerto Vallarta, and we still have another hour ride to the resort in Punta Mita. I’m not looking forward to more moving vehicles, but at least the medicine is still doing its thing.

My van nap is woken up by my favorite voice and a squeeze to my bicep. “We’re here.”

Liv helps drag me out of the van and we enter the nicest resort I’ve ever seen. It looks like our budget went up from last year. The St. Regis lobby mimics a tropical castle more than a hotel, and we’re all handed freshly made margaritas while we wait to check in.

After a few sips, she nudges me. “Do you mind if I go find a bathroom while you check in?” She starts bouncing with her legs squeezed together. “I really gotta go.”

I laugh and let her know it’s no problem. And moments after she escapes, I’m called to the front desk.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Scott,” the receptionist says, eyeing my passport. “I see you’ve requested a room with two queens.”

I hear someone snicker behind me and turn to find Ian and Vaughn. “Guess someone’s not getting laid,” Vaughn mumbles to Ian, but it’s more than loud enough for everyone around us to hear.

Turning back to the front desk, I loudly say, “There must be some confusion. I called to confirm that we had a king bed.”

“No, Mr. Scott. I have the notes right here and it says?—”

“Your notes must be wrong.” I feel like an asshole right now, but Ian and Vaughn are still giggling behind me like a couple of high school mean girls. I think about switching to Spanish, trying to explain the situation, but with all of Ian’s fancy degrees I wouldn’t be surprised if he could understand me.

“I’m sorry sir. I’m sure we can accommodate the change. Just let me get a manager.”

By the time Liv gets back I’ve secured a room with one bed, as well as a free upgrade to their beachfront villa with a private pool—for the trouble they caused.

I really am an asshole.

“What’s wrong?” she asks, as we leave the main building. There’s no tower at this hotel, just tons of winding paths to take you to your villa. Since ours is right on the beach it’s the furthest away.“Wow, this place is beautiful,” she adds, distracted by the views.

“Well, I’m glad you think so. I got us an upgrade, one of their nicest suites.”

“Really? You’re awesome.” She nudges my shoulder. “But how?”

“Don’t thank me yet.”

We find our villa and it is awesome. The entire thing is an indoor-outdoor space with a full living room and separate bedroom. The bathroom is massive with a deep soaking tub and oversized shower and looks fancy as hell with marble tile everywhere.

The living space opens straight into the private pool which faces the ocean, and there’s an enclosed outdoor shower as well.

The bedroom is probably bigger than Liv’s whole apartment and?—

“There’s only one bed,” she says, looking around like there might be another one hiding in the closet.

“Like I said…”

“But you called and asked for two, right?” I quickly explain the fiasco at the front desk and how we were able to upgrade. “Oh. Well, that’s okay. I can sleep on the couch.”

“I will sleep on the couch, Sparkles.”

“But it’s your trip.”

“That I forced you to go on.”

“Gavin.”

“Olivia.”

“Ugh, fine!” She dramatically flops down on the king-size bed and huffs. “I guess if you insist, I will have to endure the most luxurious sleep of my life.”

Liv meetsAndie for a drink by the pool while I take a nap in the luxurious bed. The drugs usually wear off after five or six hours so I should be fine for dinner tonight.

I’m just about dressed and ready to go when Liv bursts into the villa in a state of distress. I think I can see a vein popping on her forehead.

“What’s wrong?” I ask, finishing the last button on my shirt.

“Do I have to go tonight? Everyone’s talking about me.”

“Everyone? What do you mean?”

“Andie and I were sitting by the pool, and you know how water carries sound? Well, some idiots don’t seem to know that. Like everyone who’s here from the HR team.”

“What were they saying?” My voice comes out raspy, deeper than usual. There’s a part of me that feels fiercely protective over Liv. I can’t let anyone hurt her, not after I was the one that got her in this situation.

I motion for her to sit on the couch with me and she sniffles a few times but doesn’t let any tears slip. I hold on to her hands in between us and she stares down at the connection. After a few moments she finally looks up at me and lets our eyes meet.

“They said I finally got a man to bring me here. And they called me a slut, which I’m used to by now but still.”

Yeah, that’s rough. Especially because I know how wrong they are.

“That’s really shitty, Liv. I’m sorry they said that. But you know they’re all just jealous of you, right?”

“What? They’re not jealous. They think I’m a joke. It’s not like this is the first time people at work have said that about me.”

“Was Stacey one of them?” I ask.

“Yeah, why?”

“She’s asked me out like ten times. Last year on this same trip, she showed up to my room in the middle of the night with a bottle of tequila. She’s jealous.”

“Really? You’re not just making this up so I feel better?”

“I swear. I can show you some of her Slack messages. For someone in HR, they are very inappropriate.”

Olivia starts to laugh. At first, it’s just a light chuckle but then it grows until her whole body is shaking with it.

“Thank you,” she says. “For telling me that. Even if it isn’t true?—”

“It’s true. Don’t you trust me?”

“Yeah, I do, actually. I know you wouldn’t lie to me.”

“Just remember, when people talk shit, it’s always more about them than it is about you.”

“That is incredibly wise, Scottie.”

“I have my moments. Now go put on one of those gorgeous dresses I picked out.” I wiggle my brows. “If they’re gonna be talking about you, they might as well be looking at you too.”

I stay on the couch to give her some privacy, but when she comes out to show me her outfit she might as well be naked. I can’t imagine her looking better than she does right now. It feels like the wind was knocked out of me.

“You don’t like it?” she asks, nibbling her cheek. I remember helping her pick this one last night, but I had no idea what it would look like on her. The top is a sheer black mesh, highlighting her curves, and the bottom is a metallic green skirt that hugs her hips and thighs. I simultaneously want to rip it off and glue it on her so she can never wear anything else.

“There is absolutely nothing I don’t like about that,” I reply, a little breathless.

She likes my response. I can tell by the way her face changes, adding a little more pink to her cheeks. She’s trying to hide her smile but it’s plain to see. She’s still fidgeting though, doing the nail tap thing I know so well.

“Are you still feeling anxious about seeing everyone tonight?”

“Yeah, a little.”

I’m pretty sure it’s more than a little.

“I brought some edibles. Do you want one?” I ask. I hope she doesn’t judge me for bringing them. I always need a little help getting through these events. But I never want my co-workers to see me shit-faced, so I usually limit myself to a few drinks. Weed tends to keep my migraines at bay too.

Her reaction has me worried because for a second, she looks a little stunned. It’s not like it’s illegal. It’s barely even frowned upon in San Francisco. But then she runs toward me and throws her arms around my neck.

“Thank you, Scottie. I can’t think of anything that sounds better right now.”

Once she’s finished getting ready, I hand her one of the gummies I brought. “We can share—” I freeze when she pops the whole thing in her mouth. “Umm, I usually just take half.”

“Oh, I’ll be fine. I take them all the time.”

I guess we’ll see about that.

“I know you’re nervous, but don’t let those girls ruin your trip.” She twists her lips and I can tell she’s deciding how difficult it will be not to think about it. It’s hard for me to understand what she’s going through, and for the umpteenth time I think about how much worse I’ve made things for her by trying to help. So I just keep trying to make up for it. “We’re gonna have fun, right?”

“Right,” she says, slipping on her sandals. “Let’s do this.”

“See,”Liv whispers in my ear. “Everyone is looking at me.”

“That’s because you look gorgeous.” She scoffs. “Sparkles, you literally took my breath away earlier. You just have to give everyone else a chance to catch theirs.”

She loops her arm through mine and clings to me a little more. We’ve never really discussed how to do this fake relationship thing, how often we should be holding hands or showing affection. Not since the night she asked about us making out. Or more.

But it never feels forced with Liv. I don’t think she does anything for show. Maybe we’re just friends, or maybe there’s something more here. Either way, we feel good together.

“Want a drink?” I ask.

“Yes, please. These edibles are taking forever.” Weed might help her anxiety but mine’s on alert waiting for the edibles to kick in. I’m not really sure what to expect. After she popped a whole one, I took a quarter. I figure one of us needs to keep their wits tonight.

We make our way over to the bar area. Tonight’s event is the welcome reception, so it’s basically a cocktail party. They have people passing around appetizers and a bar is set up next to the beach. Instead of dining tables there are lots of smaller high-tops to use while standing. In the past, we’ve all gone out for dinner in large groups once this winds down, but I’m not sure what Liv will want to do so I haven’t agreed to anything yet.

Unfortunately, Stacey and her HR trio had the same idea about ordering drinks right now. We bump into them as soon as we order.

“Wow, Olivia,” Stacey croons. “That dress is amazing. You really went for it, huh.”

Then Marissa has to add her two cents. “I could never wear something so showy. Good for you.”

“Thanks,” Liv replies curtly. I don’t blame her for being short with those kinds of backhanded compliments.

I wrap an arm around her tightly, so snug that she has to bend a little at the hip. “Thanks ladies. I picked it out. Liv’s way too modest, but I love seeing her shine.” Without thinking, I kiss the tip of her nose. I’m elated when she doesn’t flinch, just drops her eyes while a small grin forms.

Stacey clears her throat, but I don’t give a fuck if our little display of affection bothers her. I just squeeze tighter.

“Olivia, we heard you got a meeting with Surf and Stream. How’d you get so lucky?” Stacey asks.

I really need to get away from these women, but before I can find a polite way to exit, Liv straightens and looks directly at them.

“You think I got lucky?”

Stacey and Marissa both laugh uncomfortably, just a little chuckle that shows they have no idea what to say.

I don’t know where this newfound confidence comes from, but Liv continues, “Would you tell Gavin he got lucky? Or Eduardo? Or any of the men on my team?”

“She didn’t mean anything—” Marissa says, before getting cut off.

“She meant exactly what she said. And my answer is no, I didn’t get fucking lucky. I put in hours of work to research that company, to find the right contact and to message him again and again and again until he agreed to take a meeting. Luck had nothing to do with it. It was hard work, and perseverance, and plain old grit that got me that meeting. So next time you’re chatting about me, those are some words you can use.” Olivia looks down at her margarita for a moment and then she chugs the whole thing. “You know, besides just calling me a slut.”

Stacey and Marissa both go bug-eyed, but Liv is already dragging me away. She pulls me all the way onto the beach where a fire pit is roaring to life. And then she not-so-elegantly plops down directly in the sand.

“Sparkles?” I sit down next to her.

“I am so high right now.”

Oh. Well, that was bound to happen. “So when you’re stoned, the filter turns off? Because that shit was awesome. I wish I had it on tape.”

“Scottie!”

“What do you need?” I ask.

“Just five minutes to get my limbs working again. Then, maybe a quesadilla. I’ve gone too long without cheese.”

I lean into her and laugh. She’ll be fine.

“I bet they have some pretty good wine at this hotel. We could skip this thing and order room service if you want,” I offer.

She squints at me, but I can tell she’s mulling it over. “You’d really want to leave the party?”

“I don’t give a shit about anyone here but you.” Fuck. I hope she’s buzzed enough to let that one fly. Though if I’m honest, I’m starting to care less and less about hiding my feelings from her. She’s single. We have fun together. How long am I supposed to pretend I don’t think about kissing her every damn day?

“We do have our own pool,” she muses.

“We do. And if I’m correct, you have two swimsuits to choose from.”

“I’m not positive I can walk,” she says, completely serious. She pushes out her lips, trying to solve the dilemma.

“Let’s start with standing.” I haul her up and try to brush as much sand as I can off her dress. She leans on me but it’s definitely not all her weight. “Can you take a few steps? You can hold on to me.”

It feels like I’m teaching a toddler. Liv gives me a skeptical eye roll but hesitantly takes a step. Then another, and another, letting go of me entirely.

“Yep. I’m perfect,” she says, right before falling back into the sand.

We wait about ten minutes before trying again. Luckily no one has noticed us over here, everyone consumed with the bar for now.

This time, when I get her up, her balance is back to normal. She also doesn’t let go of my arm as we walk toward the other side of the beach.

On the way to our villa, Liv quizzes me over and over on our new agenda.

“Quesadillas, then swimming? Or swimming first? Or wine first!”

Once we get inside, I get her settled on the couch and hand her the room service menu. “How about you look at the menu and the wine list and tell me what to order. Then we can swim while we wait for them to bring it.”

“Scottie?”

“Sparkles?”

“You’re a genius.”

I can’t stop laughing at her serious tone, even when I’ve left the room to change into trunks.

Then I hear Liv start huffing.

“What’s wrong?” I ask when I get back, trying not to laugh. She’s frustrated about something but the faces she keeps making are so overly animated it’s making me chuckle.

“Well, they have one of my favorite wines, the Goldeneye Pinot. But I’m pretty sure the price is marked up by a thousand percent.”

I take the menu from her. “I’m sure it’s fine. What do you want to eat?”

She grunts again and covers her face in her hands. “They have seven different quesadillas. I can’t decide.”

I eye the menu to check because seven seems excessive. But she’s right.

“I’ll decide for you, okay? Go get your swimsuit on.”

She hops up and throws me a grin full of gratitude. Once she’s in the other room I call for room service. And I order all seven quesadillas.

The wine arrives almost immediately via butler and the quesadillas soon after, so we hold off on getting in the pool. It’s a blessing and a curse because instead of swimming, Liv is sitting cross legged on the bed in her bikini.

I asked If she wanted to sit on the couch. The coffee table seemed like a better place to put the food. But she insisted.

“Scottie, it’s not room service if you don’t eat it in bed.”

I open up each container until she realizes what I ordered.

“You got every kind?” I nod. “I swear I could kiss you right now.” I honest to god seal my lips shut so I don’t say “please.”

We polish off about a third of the quesadillas, which is pretty impressive, and half the wine while we watch some Disney movie in Spanish. Liv can’t understand it, but she says she likes it anyway, and apparently enjoys having me translate.

Before we both pass out from a food coma, I ask if she still wants to go swimming.

“Definitely.” She immediately pops off the bed and runs outside like she just heard the ice cream truck was here. I quickly clean up the food and pour some more wine into each of our glasses before I go out and join her.

The night rolled in, murky and silent, while we were laughing over quesadillas. Liv is floating on her back under a star-filled sky. I’m tempted to take a picture because it fits perfectly with the labels on her family’s wine bottles. Each one I’ve seen has a different starry-night styled image. She said all the bottles are named after different stars or constellations. But from where I’m standing, they need one called The Olivia.

“Hey, beautiful,” I announce when I hop in and hand her the glass of wine.

“Thanks.” She takes a few small sips and places it on the ledge.

“I’m sorry if I’ve made things worse for you, Liv. The way those girls talked to you. It’s fucked up.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“But—is that always what it’s like? Being a woman? I mean, Marissa is always talking at our company meetings about the women’s group she started. I swear she uses the word empowerment so much I could make a drinking game from it. But then she talks to you like that? What the fuck?”

“Yeah,” she sighs. “Misogyny isn’t always from men. It’s so internalized at this point, it’s like all the shitty men from yesteryear found a way to outsource it. They can just sit back and watch us tear each other apart now.” She grabs the glass and takes another long sip of wine. “I’m just glad I have Andie. No one else at Sizzl likes me.”

“That’s not true.”

I lean against the edge of the pool, half-hoping she didn’t hear the conviction in my voice. She sets down her glass and swims closer to me, stopping just short of my personal space.

“You know you’re the nicest guy I’ve ever dated.” Her voice is sad when she says it, each word coated thick with shame. “I mean, we’re not even actually dating. And you’re still the best boyfriend I’ve ever had.”

I’m not sure how to respond so I don’t. It feels like she’s trying to work something out, and I want to let her.

“Are you always this nice?” She places a hand on my shoulder, and I feel the contact roll through every inch of my body. I could swear each hair on my legs stands at attention. “Are you like this with everyone?”

“No,” I state simply. Because it’s true. Because I’ve barely dated since we moved to the city, haven’t made friends outside of the office. All I’ve cared about for most of my life is making sure my sister has everything she needs. Making sure she’s happy and healthy and has a roof over her head.

My crush on Olivia awakened something in me when we first met, but it was snuffed out as quickly as it began. Now, all these feelings she’s stirring up in me, they make me feel like anything is possible.

She puts her free hand on my other shoulder, boxing me in just enough to make me sweat.

“Then why are you so nice to me?” she asks.

“I think you know why.”

And I hope that’s true, because I really don’t feel like spelling it out right now. I don’t feel like talking at all with how close she is.

She slides forward until it’s her forearms that are resting on my shoulders, our lips only a few breaths apart. The water in this pool is chilly, the perfect contrast to the balmy air, but my body feels like it’s on fire.

“I think I might kiss you,” she whispers. The words land on my lips and I push forward, barely an inch. But she doesn’t make a move.

“I think I might let you,” I admit.

“Really?”

“Really.”

“But do you think it’d be bad? You and me kissing?”

“No, Sparkles. I don’t think it’d be bad at all.”

I’m tired of this waiting game. I reach for her waist and pull her toward me. Her lips quickly find mine in a tentative press. It’s soft, teasing and makes my pulse beat like a drum.

Our heads tilt at opposite angles and her mouth softens a little more against mine.

It’s killing me a little to go at her pace, but I’m still not sure what this is, so I let her move as slowly as she wants. She leans in again and this time I can feel her insecurities melt away. Her arms press against my shoulders and she wraps her legs around my hips, her lips parting just enough to let me know she wants more.

So I give it to her.

Our tongues meet and it feels like my entire body sighs in relief. She tastes like lazy mornings and daydreams, like I could stay here forever and be the happiest man alive.

My hands trail down her back and under the water until I can fiddle with her bikini bottoms. She gives a little gasp when I squeeze her ass, but I can tell it’s the good kind.

“You were right,” she whispers into my mouth.

“About what?”

“This isn’t bad.” She grins against my mouth, so wide I can feel it. I let my hands wander while I kiss a path down her throat, eliciting more gasps and sighs.

“I love how responsive you are,” I say on a breath, letting my tongue glide along her collarbone. I stop to suck on every new spot I find, creeping down to the hollow of her breasts. I’m tempted to go lower. This hot pink bikini has been torturing me all night, her half-naked body wrapped in a bow. I want nothing more than to destroy it, ripping it apart piece by tiny piece. “Nothing about this will be bad.”

She swallows thickly against my mouth before she pulls herself back. I take in the sight of her: swollen lips, heaving chest, hair a wet and tangled mess that’s entirely my doing. Pride swells through me.

“Fuck, you’re sexy.”

“We should stop,” she says, still panting each breath. “That was…” she trails off. Amazing? Incredible? Something we should actually never stop doing? “A lot.”

Shit.

“I’m sorry,” I say, immediately taking my hands off of her. “Did I misread something?”

“No! Not at all. It was just going a little fast.” She bites her lip and yeah, she’s right. I was ready to spend all night between her legs. I still am.

“You’re right. We should probably…umm, call it a night.”

She climbs out of the pool, but I stay behind and try to catch my breath. What the hell just happened? For a second it felt like every dream I’ve had for the last two years was coming true, and then I woke up with a splash of cold water.

I finish off the rest of my wine and grab a towel.

I change into sweats while Liv is in the bathroom, most likely doing the same. Part of me wonders if I should leave, give her some space. A bigger part of me wants to stay, talk out whatever’s going through her head.

“Hey,” she says, coming out of the bathroom. “Just wanted to rinse off real quick.” Her hair is still wet, but it’s brushed out, perfectly smooth. And she’s swapped my nemesis bikini for shorts and a T-shirt. “Are you tired?”

“A little,” I reply. It’s after midnight, but with everything that just happened I’m not sure sleep will be so easy. I also napped for half the day. I grab a pillow from the bed anyway. “I’ll go in the other room. See you in the morn?—”

“Will you stay in here?” she asks.

“You want me to sleep in the bed with you?”

She nods, repeatedly. “If that’s okay with you.”

My lips tug into a grin.

“Sure, Sparkles. Whatever you want.”