Chapter Twenty-Two
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
HUNTER
All the oxygen escapes my lungs as I push off the counter and lunge for Lennon like an animal. She gasps in my mouth as I bring our lips together, colliding in a desperate battle of wanting more but not letting myself get carried away again.
I’m pretty certain my heart stopped beating the moment she asked me to kiss her. Hell, I think I blacked out for a second. My head knows this is fake—it’s all show, an act, not real—but fuck, my heart doesn’t care. Tasting her, a desire I’ve craved for over two years, brings back the memories of the night we first met.
Her flirtatious smile, seductive voice, and lingering eyes were on me as I moved behind the bar to mix her drink. Goddamn, it makes me hard.
Then the reality of what I’m doing—what we’re doing—hits me like a ton of bricks, and I beat myself up all over again. I saw her first. But it didn’t matter because she chose him, and Brandon was my best friend. I’d never take what wasn’t mine, and she clearly made her decision that night. However, that didn’t stop the way I’ve felt about her, and when our mouths press together in a soft, sensual kiss, it takes all the fucking self-control in the world not to go any further.
My lips brush against hers, light and sweet with just enough pressure to nearly steal her breath away. We have to make it believable that we’re in love. Then as quickly as I grabbed her, I pull back.
“Was that better?” I ask above a whisper.
“No,” she says, then pops her eyes open. “I mean, yes. Yes. Sorry.”
My brows arch. “You’re sure?”
Lennon chuckles, which has become my favorite sound in the world, and swats at my chest. “You know what I mean. That was…perfect.”
A blush on her cheeks indicates she liked it way more than she wants to admit. I felt every fiber of her body press into mine when I kissed her the first time. She was begging for and needing more, taking everything I’d given her.
But I know she got lost in the make-believe of it all. She probably wishes it were Brandon and not me, and the fact that I’m jealous of my dead best friend rips me away from her.
“Okay, well, I’m gonna head to bed. Or take a shower. Probably a cold one.” I walk backward, and she laughs at my expense. “We have a busy day tomorrow, so you should probably get some sleep too.”
“I’ll get right on that,” she mocks.
Lennon pretends to hate how much I take care of her, making sure she’s eating enough for two, drinking water, and not stressing, but I think deep down she appreciates it. She nearly gave me a stroke when I saw her doing yoga last week with her body bent in half. After the panic subsided, she reassured me it was perfectly safe for the baby.
Doesn’t mean I didn’t have to drink a beer after that to calm down.
If I thought Lennon was gorgeous before, seeing her swollen belly grow is beyond anything I ever imagined. She’s glowing, completely stunning, and beautiful. I can’t stop looking at her, watching her, appreciating every inch of her tempting body. Her shirts have grown a tad snug, showing off her breasts. Since her body is changing, she’ll need bigger clothes soon, but she’s being stubborn about it.
There will be more doctor appointments too, which I’ve already reassured her I’d go to. I don’t want her being alone through this, and even though I say it’s for Brandon, I’m not too selfish to admit I want to be there for me too. This kid is going to be in my life, and I want to support Lennon every step of the way. Knowing my best friend is missing one of the greatest moments of his life has my emotions in overdrive.
As I step into the cool shower, I speak to him. Tell him how amazing Lennon has handled everything so far. Tell him how much we both miss him. Lastly, I tell him how sorry I am for kissing his girlfriend. For being in love with his girlfriend.
I can’t say with certainty if Brandon would ever approve of a relationship between Lennon and me, but I’d like to think he’d trust me enough to care for her and their child. I’d never hurt her. Keeping his memory alive is something I vow to always do. I miss him so much sometimes it chokes me alive.
Once I’m in bed, I stare at the ceiling and think about that kiss. Fake or not, it felt every bit real to me. Her breasts pushed into my chest, back arched to deepen it, and then she moaned.
Fucking hell, that moan.
My cock gets hard just thinking about it.
Because I’m a glutton for punishment, I lower my hand into my shorts and stroke my dick. The cold shower did nothing to subside my hard-on, and I relive the way she responded to me. I think about how things have shifted between us, how close we’ve gotten, and how comfortable we are together. Lennon makes me feel safe talking to her about things I keep inside. She’s managed to do something no one else ever has, and I doubt I’ll ever feel this way about anyone else again.
My cock grows harder, my fist squeezing tighter as I increase the pace. Lennon is all I can focus on—her sweet face, luscious tits, contagious laugh. Fuck, she’s the full package. Always has been.
Grunting, I slide my fist over the tip, again and again until I’m coming, hard and fast. I release a harsh breath between gritted teeth, hoping she can’t hear me in the next room, but shit that was intense. I use my shirt to clean myself off, then grab a new one, feeling temporary relief.
Over the past few months, I’ve jerked off as much as I did when I was a teenager, but having Lennon this close to me every single day makes me edgy. I have no desire to go out on the weekends or find someone else. The mere thought of it has me laughing at myself. All those times I teased Brandon for being pussy whipped, and here I am, whipped without the pussy.
Lennon invades every part of me, more than ever before, and after tasting her lips, I’m worried I’ll lose my self-control. Though I can’t. Things can’t escalate, no matter how badly I want it. Lennon needs a friend, someone she can trust and rely on.
Not to mention, I’d forever live with the remorse of betraying my best friend. Though there’s one secret of his I plan to take to the grave. I can’t lie to Lennon, not if I want to stay in her life, but it’s one thing I promised Brandon. He’s no longer here to propose, and I don’t know if knowing would hurt her worse or give her closure. She’s in better spirits from a few weeks ago even though I know she’s still grieving. With that, we’re now going to pretend to be married, so how in the hell do I mention Brandon bought her an engagement ring and was ready to ask her to be his wife on this very trip?
Hell, if I knew, then I’d know what to do with the damn ring that burns a hole in my nightstand.
Ever since I found the ring in their bedroom, I’ve gone back and forth on what to do with it. Give it to his mother? Let her decide? Keep it for when Lennon’s ready to know, if she’ll ever be ready to know. I hate that I’m left to make this decision when either one could hurt her, or worse—have her running from me.
Each night over the past week, I’ve dreamed of Lennon and our fake marriage. It feels so fucking real, I forget it’s not. She looks at me as if I’m the only man in the room, and then as soon as I touch her, Brandon’s face appears. Every damn time, I wake up gasping, ready to take a beating from him because that’s what I deserve.
I’m so fucked.
Battling my emotions has been the hardest part of this arrangement. I didn’t even take a second to think about how this plan would affect me before blurting it out, but I don’t regret it. I’d do it over and over again if it meant keeping her happy and stress-free.
“Hey, sleepyhead,” I greet as soon as I hear Lennon’s feet pad into the kitchen. I love being able to sleep in a little on Saturdays, but it’s never much. After I start a pot of coffee, I make breakfast, knowing Lennon needs food to fully wake up.
“Ugh.” She leans against the counter, her blond hair a mess on top of her head. She looks freaking adorable.
“Rough night?” I arch a brow, glancing over my shoulder as I cook an omelet on the stove. “Looks like you got into a fight with a toaster in the shower.” I smirk when she glares.
“It’s not fair that you literally wake up like that…” She waves her arm up and down, motioning to my body.
I chuckle. “It’s a curse.”
Lennon snorts, moving around me to reach the fridge. “I had a hard time falling asleep. My nerves are shot, not to mention it’s getting uncomfortable to sleep. My boobs are annoying and sensitive, and I feel like a beached whale.”
I shoot her a look, linger over her breasts, then move my gaze down to her belly. “You have the tiniest bump.”
She takes the jug of orange juice and slams the door shut. “Well, it doesn’t feel tiny when I’m trying to sleep.”
Her death cracks me up.
“I heard a body pillow can help during pregnancy. Want me to find you one?” I ask casually, expecting to catch heat for reading up on this kind of shit.
“I was thinking about getting one.” She pours juice in a cup, then takes a long sip. “Wait. How do you know about those?” She pauses, then continues before I can respond. “Never mind. I should know the answer to that one.” Lennon laughs, then gives me an appreciative smile.
“I like reading up on stuff so I have more knowledge about what you’re going through. You know I’m not going anywhere, so I want to educate myself.” I flip the omelet once more.
“Well, it is your apartment, so it’s not like you’d leave anyway.” Lennon takes a seat at the table, and I shoot her a glare before turning off the stove.
“Yours too since your name’s on the lease,” I mutter softly, grabbing two plates from the cabinet.
“What?” she asks loudly.
“I put your name on the lease,” I repeat, emphasizing each word. “So it’s not just my apartment. It’s yours too.”
She gives me a quizzical look, glancing up from her glass. “When did you do that?”
I place an omelet on each of the plates, grab two forks, then bring them to the table where I set one in front of her and take the other. “About a month ago.”
Lennon stares at me. “Were you ever going to tell me?”
I shrug, not seeing why she’s so rattled about this. “I guess it hasn’t come up till now.”
Digging into my food, I take a huge bite so I have an excuse not to speak. Lennon’s eyes burn into my skin, and after a minute, I can’t take it any longer and stand to get myself a glass of juice. By the time I sit back down, I’m happy to see Lennon’s eaten half of her omelet.
“Hunter.” Her scolding tone has me bringing my eyes to hers. “You added my name to the lease?”
I set down my fork and give her my undivided attention. “Yes. Why wouldn’t I?”
She looks around and blinks. “Well, I don’t know. It seems kinda significant.”
“I said it before, and I’ll say it again in case you’re experiencing pregnancy brain,” I begin, which makes her chuckle. “You aren’t going anywhere, and neither am I. This place is just as much mine as it is yours. You and the baby and me…as weird as that is, I don’t give a shit. This works.”
Lennon frowns, which is the opposite of what I was expecting. “That’s a big commitment from someone who can’t commit to the same pizza place.”
“That’s different,” I tell her. “Not to mention, I like a variety of pizza.”
“And what happens when you’re ready for a change?”
“Then I order Chinese food instead.”
“Hunter!” She bursts out laughing. “You know what I mean.”
“Don’t you trust me?” I ask her.
She nods, sucking in her lips.
“If we’re pulling off a fake marriage, then don’t you think my wife should be on the rental lease?”
“Who the hell is going to check that?”
“I don’t know, you tell me,” I mock.
“Pfft. It’s my apartment, remember? So I added you to my lease when we got married .” She snickers. “Except you didn’t think of this plan until a week ago.”
“Lennon,” I warn. “Drop it.”
Thankfully, she does, and we go back to eating in silence. Once I’m done, I rinse my plate and load the dishwasher. Then I make a cup of coffee, and Lennon glares at it.
“You can’t hate me for drinking caffeine,” I quip.
“No, but I can still scowl about it.”
“You can have one cup, Lennon,” I remind her, smiling as I take another sip. “If you want.”
“Of course I want to, but I’d rather be safe than sorry. The last thing I need is a hyperactive toddler running circles around me.” She places a hand on her little bump.
“I don’t think it works that way, but suit yourself.” I wink. “Let me know when you’re ready to finish those notecards.”
She takes her last bite, then slides her plate next to mine. “Thanks for breakfast. I’m gonna shower, then I’ll be ready to play wifey .” She rolls her eyes, frowning.
“You sure know how to make your husband feel good,” I mock as she saunters off.
Lennon stops before leaving the kitchen. “Oh sorry, did I bruise your inflated ego? Figured that was impossible.” She makes a face, then walks down the hallway.
“Pretty sassy for a pregnant woman!” I holler so she can hear me, but I can’t stop smiling as I finish my coffee.
Deciding I better take this opportunity to call Hayden since we’ve only randomly texted over the past few months, I grab my phone. I haven’t filled him in on the details of what’s been going on since Brandon’s death. Honestly, I don’t even know where to begin. He texted me a few days ago, and it slipped my mind to call him when I got off work. I wait until I hear the water running and Lennon singing before I dial his number.
“Hey, bro,” he answers. “I was wondering when I was gonna hear from you again.”
“Shit, I know. I’m sorry. Lots going on,” I tell him, walking into the living room.
“I bet,” he says with insinuation in his tone. I ignore it and decide not to call him out on it. “Well, I’m glad you called either way. I have some news.”
I pause and wait. “Well, you gonna say it, or do I have to guess?”
Hayden laughs. “Sav and I are officially getting hitched! I popped the question, and she said yes!” he announces, loud and proud.
“I told you she would!” I’m smiling so wide, my cheeks hurt. “About goddamn time! I was wondering when you were gonna do it, considering you picked that ring out two months ago.”
He laughs, and I can hear how happy he is. “I wanted the proposal and everything to be perfect and special for her. Donny helped me plan it. It’s still soon, but I think we’re gonna get married in California next summer so everyone can make arrangements and be there.”
“Wow, that fast?”
“It’s been over ten years, Hunter.” He chuckles.
I roll my eyes at his exaggeration. They haven’t been together for ten years, but them finally getting engaged has been a decade in the making.
“I’d get married tomorrow, but she wants her parents there and the whole big fancy white wedding, which is understandable. So I’m going to do whatever she wants because her happiness is all that matters to me.”
“Well, I’m excited as fuck for you guys. Seriously.”
“Thanks, man. If you had texted my ass back, you would’ve known the day it happened…” He doesn’t finish his sentence, but he doesn’t have to for me to know what he was going to say.
“I know. I’ve been preoccupied. I’m sorry. Congrats to you both, though! I’m glad you two are finally gonna tie the knot.”
“I get it. I do,” he sympathizes. “And thanks. Sav’s pretty fucking thrilled.”
Since we’re chatting about our lives, I decide to spill my own truths. “Well, then there’s something I need to tell you, but you can’t judge me.”
“Hunter, what’d you do?”
I roll my eyes at his accusing tone.
“Nothing. But?—”
“So, hubby …you ready to do this?” Lennon comes into the living room at the worst fucking time possible.
Son of a bitch.
I pinch the bridge of my nose, knowing Hayden heard her.
“Oh sorry, you’re on the phone. I’ll finish packing for our honeymoon while you’re chatting.” She laughs to herself, then walks back to her room.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me, Hunter! What the hell?”
Hayden chews my ass like I figured he would. In fact, he fucking roars.
“Are you done?” I deadpan.
“Don’t make me jump on a plane to come kick your ass,” he threatens.
Guess not.
“It’s not what you think. Fucking relax.” I lean forward on the couch, grabbing my mug and chugging the rest of my coffee.
“I heard ‘hubby’ and ‘honeymoon.’ Not sure how that can be interpreted any other way.”
“We’re faking it,” I explain.
“Just when I thought you couldn’t possibly say anything stupider, you do. Christ, Hunter. What the hell does that even mean?”
Inhaling a deep breath, I begin to tell him. From Lennon finding out she’s pregnant, to the story of her parents and their religious background, to the plan that has us flying to Utah to fake our marriage. I tell him everything. He’s the only person I trust with my life, so I know he won’t rat me out, but there’s no doubt he’s judging me pretty hard.
“Well?” I ask after he doesn’t say anything.
“Hmm. Part of me wants to pat you on the back for helping her out and doing what you think is best, while the other part wants to shake some sense into your puny brain for even suggesting it. You know this isn’t going to end well.”
“It wouldn’t end well either way, Hayden,” I tell him honestly. “At least this way her parents won’t disown her, and she’ll have support for the baby.”
“Yeah, and what does that mean for you?”
“I’m not worried about me right now.”
“Clearly.” He scoffs. “You’re in love with her, Hunter. How the hell do you plan to pretend? I mean…”
“I know,” I grit, not wanting to say anything Lennon can overhear. “I owe her. I owe Brandon. This isn’t about me, I promise.”
After a beat of silence, he sighs. “Okay, well, I wish you the best. I’m just worried about you, but you’re a big boy, so I trust you know what you’re doing.”
Do I know what I’m doing? Christ, I hope so.
We chat for another couple of minutes before ending the call. I’m excited for him and Sav, but part of me is so envious he gets to be with the love of his life. He deserves it all, and I can’t wait for the wedding. When I was a teenager, I watched him self-destruct after their breakup, and it was a wake-up call.
Don’t trust women.
Mostly, I didn’t. It was proven to me time and again that they’d chew you up and spit you out without a second thought. Then Lennon entered the picture, and everything changed.
“Hey, if you’re done, I wanna show you something,” Lennon calls from the bedroom.
“Yeah, sure,” I shout.
She steps into the living room wearing a knee-length sundress that fits her perfectly. I can’t even see her bump from this angle. It’s not until she turns to the side that I notice there’s one.
“What do you think? I want to look nice so they don’t ask me a hundred questions about how I feel about Brandon or the pregnancy. So if I look decent, they’ll assume everything is great.” She shrugs, but there’s sadness in her eyes.
Pushing myself up, I stand and walk toward her. I smile and nod. “You look amazing. Really good.”
“Yeah? Okay, well, thanks. I need to dress the part. Now that I’m a wife and future homemaker.” She snorts.
“I don’t even wanna know what that means.” I shake my head, the nerves setting in about meeting her parents tomorrow evening. Tonight’s our last night of normalcy—well, normal for us—and then everything’s gonna change.
“No, you don’t, but don’t forget to pack some dressy clothes. You’ll need them for dinner and whatever else they drag us to.”
“I won’t.”
“Well, I’m going to change back into some comfy clothes so we can continue looking over those notecards and finish packing.”
She goes to walk away, then stops and turns back to me. “I know I’ve said it a million times, but thank you.” Lennon closes the space between us and wraps her arms around me. I wrap one around her, pulling her to my chest, and kiss the top of her head.
“Whatever you need, Lennon,” I promise.
“Oh, that does remind me of one more favor…” She pulls back so our eyes lock, and she bites her bottom lip.
I raise my brows, wanting her to say it. At this point, nothing she could say will shock me.
“We’re gonna need to sleep together tonight.”
Okay, except that.