Chapter Six #2
“What? I’m serious!” She gestures wildly with her fork, a piece of pancake flying off and landing on the floor.
“Think about it. You show up with this absolute unit of a man…” she waves her hand at Nitro as if he’s a prize on a game show, “… who’s hot as hell, built like a Greek god, and clearly worships the ground you walk on.
Derek would lose his fucking tiny peanut-sized mind. ”
“Sage, you can’t just…” I turn to Nitro, mortified beyond belief that she even said the words, but especially ‘worships the ground you walk on.’ What was she thinking? There is no way he believes that. “I’m so sorry. She’s hungover and insane, and we can just ignore every single thing she says.”
But Nitro isn’t looking at Sage.
He’s looking at me.
And he’s smiling.
Not just smiling, grinning. This slow, devastating grin makes my stomach flip and my brain short-circuit.
“I mean…” he says, his voice casual but his eyes intense, “… she’s not wrong.”
I freeze like I’m caught in the damn Twilight Zone. “What?”
“If you need a date to make an ex jealous, then I’m your guy, Small Town.”
For a second, I’m convinced I’ve misheard him. That the tequila is still messing with my brain, or maybe I’m still asleep, and this is some kind of fever dream.
But he’s still looking at me with that grin, waiting for my response.
“You’re joking?” I question weakly.
“Do I look like I’m joking?”
No.
No, he definitely does not.
He looks completely serious.
And also completely undeniably and certifiably insane.
“You don’t even know me,” I point out, my voice climbing an octave.
“We’ve met three times. Once when I was crying in your car, once in a café, and then when I was drunk off my ass at a bar, and now I’m hungover and look like death, you’re saying you wanna help make my dickhead ex jealous? You don’t owe me anything.”
“Who said anything about owing you?” Nitro leans back in his chair, which creaks again under his weight, and crosses those sexy-as-sin arms over his chest. “Maybe I think it would be fun. Maybe I want to see this asshole’s face when you walk in looking gorgeous with a guy who appreciates you.”
My heart is doing something complicated in my chest. Something that feels like hope, terror, and the kind of stupid, reckless optimism that always gets me in trouble. You would think I would learn…
“This is crazy?” I say, but it comes out like a question.
“Probably,” Nitro agrees. “But so is sitting outside someone’s house in your car all night. But look what it got me… a free breakfast and a plot to fuck with your ex-boyfriend’s head. I call that a big fucking win.”
Sage practically vibrates with excitement beside me as she claps her hands together. “Oh my God, you have to do this. You simply have to! I will literally die if you don’t! I’ll plan your outfits. I’ll coach you on how to act like a couple. I’ll, I’ll—”
“Sage.” I press my hand to my forehead, trying to stop the spinning. “This is insane.”
“No, this is brilliant!” she counters. “Derek deserves to see you happy. He deserves to see you with someone who actually treats you right. And even if it’s only for one night, even if it’s all fake, you deserve to walk into that gala and feel like the most important person in the room, while giving it to numb nuts. ”
I look at Nitro, searching his face for any sign that he’s messing with me. That this is some elaborate joke, or a pity offer. But all I see is that same steady calm. That same quiet certainty that made me trust him the first time I got into his car.
“Why would you do this?” I ask softly. “Why would you help me?”
He’s quiet for a moment, and I watch something shift in his expression.
Something that looks almost vulnerable.
“Because you deserve better than what that asshole gave you,” he says finally. “And if spending one night pretending to be your boyfriend means that asshole has to watch you be happy without him, then I’m in.”
My chest feels too tight. My eyes are burning, and I’m dangerously close to crying again, which is ridiculous because this is supposed to be a fun, silly, fake-dating scheme. Not a moment that makes me feel like someone actually sees me. Actually, sees me for who I am, not something else.
“You really think we could pull this off?” I ask, and immediately want to take it back because it sounds so desperate.
But Nitro doesn’t laugh.
He doesn’t make me feel stupid for asking.
He simply looks at me as if I’m the only person in the room.
“I think we’re going to make him see that you’re the most beautiful woman he’s never going to have, Small Town. Drunk, sober, hungover, crying, laughing… doesn’t matter. You’re beautiful. And you’re never going to be his again. It’s going to drive him absolutely fucking crazy.”
Sage makes a noise that sounds as though she’s choking.
“Okay, I’m going to need you two to stop being so disgustingly sweet because I’m still hungover, and I will vomit,” she announces, but she’s grinning.
“But also, yes, a thousand times yes, you’re doing this fake-dating thing, and it’s going to be ah-mazing! ”
I’m staring at Nitro, my brain trying to catch up with everything that just happened.
He thinks I’m beautiful.
He wants to help me.
He’s offering to be my ‘fake date’ like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
“We should probably think about it,” I hear myself say, even though every part of me is screaming just to say yes. “Make sure it’s actually a good idea before we commit to anything.”
“Absolutely,” Nitro agrees, but there’s something in his smile that says he knows I’m already going to say yes. “Think about it. Take your time.”
“But not too much time,” Sage interjects. “The gala is in three weeks, and if you’re going to do this, we need to sell it. Which means you two actually need to spend time together. Get to know each other. Build chemistry.”
“We have plenty of chemistry,” Nitro states matter-of-factly, his eyes boring into mine.
I swallow hard, clenching my thighs together, my clit throbbing uncontrollably, letting me know I am alive.
Sweet baby Jesus.
“Hell yeah, you do,” Sage agrees. “But Derek won’t believe it unless you two look like you’ve been together for a while. So that means dates… lots of dates.”
My stomach does a weird flip at the word ‘dates,’ and I take a sip of coffee to hide my expression.
Fake dating a man I barely know to a work gala is already a bad idea. Fake-dating a man I barely know to a work gala when your ex is also your boss seems like a terrible idea.
But terrible ideas have never looked so damn good.
“Okay,” I hear myself say. “Let’s think about it.”
Nitro’s smile widens. “Deal.”
We eat breakfast in comfortable chaos, Sage making increasingly inappropriate comments about Derek’s probable shortcomings, Nitro laughing in this low, rough way that makes my toes curl, and me trying to wrap my head around the fact that my life has turned into some kind of rom-com in the space of a week.
At some point, the conversation drifts away from Derek and the gala, into easier territory.
“So how old are you anyway?” Sage asks Nitro around a mouthful of pancake. “Because you’ve got that whole silver-fox-in-training vibe going on, but you also look as though you could be anywhere from thirty to fifty.”
I nearly choke on my coffee. “Sage!”
“What? It’s a valid question!” She turns to Nitro, completely shameless. “How old are you, Uber man?”
Nitro looks amused rather than offended. “Old enough to know better,” he says, shooting me a look that makes my stomach flip. “Young enough to not care.”
“That’s not an answer,” Sage points out.
“No,” he agrees. “It’s not.”
I’m fascinated by the way he deflects, smooth and easy, like he’s done it a thousand times before. Like his age, he doesn’t particularly want to discuss it, but he’s not uncomfortable with it either.
“Are you like… forty?” Sage presses, her head tilted to the side.
“Sage, stop interrogating him,” I mutter, because I already know how old he is.
Nitro grins. “I’m forty-three.”
Sage widens her eyes. “Ohh… Daddy vibes, Marley. I like it.”
“Jesus, Sage,” I mumble as Nitro shakes his head and continues eating.
But the fact remains, he is older.
Does it matter?
It shouldn’t matter.
It doesn’t, I realize.
It really, really doesn’t.
If anything, it makes him more attractive. There’s something about the way he carries himself, confident but not arrogant, experienced but not jaded, that suggests he’s lived enough life to know what he wants.
“I love the little bit of silver in your hair, Uber man, makes you look distinguished,” Sage says, shoving more pancakes in her mouth.
Nitro chooses to ignore her and turns to me instead. “She always like this?”
I chuckle as Sage drops her mouth open in mock shock. “Yeah, she has a whole vibe.”
Nitro shrugs. “I dig it.”
“Why, thank you, kind sir,” Sage chimes, bowing her head and waving her fork through the air. “We can keep this one, Marles.”
I chuckle out a laugh. “Okay, too much sugar for you this morning.”
Nitro smiles at me. “You don’t wanna keep me, Small Town?”
I grin, because I do. I really, really do. “Look, I’m just a small-town girl… living in a lonely world… I don’t need to be corrupted by a city boy.”
Nitro raises an eyebrow at me. “Is that what I am, a city boy?”
I shrug, trying to look innocent. “Well, you called me Small Town. Seems only fair you get a nickname too.”
“City Boy,” he repeats, testing it out. And then he grins.
Sage snorts into her salted glass of orange juice. “You guys are so fucking weird.”
The rest of breakfast passes in a blur of laughter and teasing, and Sage dramatically declares that she’s never drinking again.
A lie.
We all know it’s a lie.
But the whole time, I’m hyperaware of Nitro across the table.
The way he listens when I talk, and like every word matters.
The way he looks at me when he thinks I’m not paying attention.
The way my heart speeds up every time our eyes meet.
This is probably a terrible idea.
Fake dating to make my ex jealous.
But terrible ideas have never been so damn tempting.
And as Nitro stands to leave, promising to text me later so we can ‘think about it’ even though we both know I’m already in, I smile.
“Thanks for breakfast,” Nitro says, pausing in the doorway. “And for the entertainment.”
“You’re welcome anytime, City Boy,” Sage calls from where she’s flopped back on the sofa with a pillow over her face. “Just bring coffee next time. Lots of coffee.”
He looks at me, and there’s something in his expression that makes my breath catch.
“I meant what I said, Small Town,” he says quietly.
“You’re beautiful. Don’t let anyone make you forget that.
” Then he’s gone, the door closing softly behind him, leaving me standing in Sage’s living room with my heart pounding, my head spinning, and the distinct feeling that my life just changed in a way I can’t quite articulate.
“You’re gonna fall in love with him,” Sage mumbles from under her pillow.
“Shut up.”
“I’m serious! You’re going to fake date him, and then you’re actually going to date him, and then you’re going to marry him and have adorable babies with red hair and big muscles.”
“You’re insane.”
“I’m also right,” she yells, throwing one of her plush pillows at me.
I dodge the plush pillow, without responding, and turn to walk toward the bathroom, because I need a cool shower after being so worked up around Nitro for so long.
Holy mother of mercy!