Chapter 14
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
ASLAN
A fter a night of drinking with my brothers, I realized that I want to explore something real with Keaton.
A relationship.
Falling in love.
Share our chaos, hold onto each other, and live through it all.
I never thought I’d want something like that with anyone, but yesterday, while I tried to be the person she needed, I felt accomplished. It wasn’t the fact that I was able to pay for her past due bills. I loved holding her while she was finally relaxing after a stressful event.
Never in my life have I felt that way before, not while getting straight A’s to make my parents proud, or when I picked up the shards of our lives when Dad left us—not even when my company reached a new milestone.
I want her.
I want to learn to love her and to give her my heart.
Last night, I tried to develop a plan to get what I want—her. It was almost impossible since I was drunk. Maybe too drunk to come up with something that would make sense to Keaton and me.
Keaton and me, that’s a foreign concept, but I like it.
According to Gatsby, there’s a disadvantage to my plan.
I haven’t had a romantic relationship during my adult life.
My experience is limited to one-night stands.
Leave it to Gatsby who studies relationships and human behavior to give me the theory.
If I didn’t know any better, I’d think he has some secret relationship in New York.
He’s hiding her because we’re nosy and overwhelming. He’s scared that our mother will scar his children…there has to be more to his knowledge than claiming it helps him with his company.
He concluded that I have to remedy the years I spent avoiding complicated feelings before I make a move. If not, trying to date her will be compared to a twelve-year-old trying to fly a private jet.None of that made sense to me. I thought it was because we were drunk.
After drinking Heath’s hangover remedy, I’m still confused as fuck about his advice.
I’ll work hard to convince Keaton that we can be more than just a fake fling. My game plan is to woo the fuck out of her, make her fall in love, and never let her go.
Step one, picking her up in the morning with her coffee and driving her to the office. If this doesn’t say I care about you, then…well, I’ll try something else.
Are there some holes in my plan? It’s pretty much like a brick of Swiss cheese.
Let’s start with the misty rain falling while I wait outside her house.
I didn’t bring an umbrella with me, and I don’t have a change of clothes in the office.
I’m going to look like a wet dog during my nine o’clock meeting—unless Lysander takes mercy on me and brings me a clean suit as I requested.
When the door swings open and she steps out, my heart almost stops. She looks gorgeous. It’s not like I haven’t realized that she’s attractive, but today she looks more radiant than other days.
“Good morning, beautiful,” I greet her, handing her a to-go mug.
She blinks a couple of times, opens her pink-polka dot umbrella, and covers us both. “Morning, do we have an early meeting outside the office?”
“Not that I know of. I’m here to take you to work.”
She smiles. “You shouldn’t have gone out of your way, but thank you.”
I tilt my head toward the car. “Well, we agreed last night.”
We make our way toward the car. She stops right in front of the open door. Tim takes the umbrella, holding it for both of us. As Keaton climbs in, she says, “No, we didn’t. I’d remember.” She gives me a suspicious look. “Are you still drunk?”
I burst into laughter as I get in the car. “I had a buzz,” I lie because it was a lot more than that. The only reason I don’t have a hangover is because Heath prepared some weird beverage for all of us. I swear if he doesn’t make it as a doctor, he can become an inventor of sorts.
“Well, if you check your texts, the last one says I’d be picking you up. I assumed your silence was a confirmation that you agreed to it.”
She shakes her head, giving me an annoyed look. She might as well say, I can’t deal with your foolishness today . Then, she goes through her purse and pulls out a face towel. “Here, let me at least dry some of those drops. Why didn’t you ring the bell or…wait for me inside the car?”
“It seemed more romantic if I did it outside, in the rain. You can’t deny it was a very John-Cusack-Patrick-Dempsey move. I just couldn’t find a boombox or a riding lawn tractor though.”
She shakes with laughter as she pats me dry with the softest towel I’ve encountered. “You’re playing it a little too thick, Spearman.”
“What?” My voice comes out innocently.
“This dating game.”
“It’s a game?”
“Well, that’s what I came up with as I was taking one of the coldest showers of my life. If I want to succeed, I have to think of this as some sort of game show or a competition. Probably a gameboard. There has to be something intriguing that keeps me focused. And I know that I’ll win.”
I give her a challenging gaze. “Sure, but that’s because you’ve never played against me. I beat everyone at Monopoly, Pictionary…you name it. I always win.”
“We’re not competing against each other,” she clarifies. “We have a common goal. Think of this as a game show where we’re a couple, and we have to defeat all other contestants. We’re an alliance. The rules are that we have to convince everyone we’re in love without crossing the line.”
“What line?”
“You’re my boss. We can’t fraternize.”
“I thought we agreed yesterday that we’re friends.”
“Okay, we’re friends who have to pretend that they’re in love but shouldn’t step into forbidden territory.” She gives me a conspiratorial look. “The forbidden part will make it interesting.”
Her eyes look slightly wild. Did she drink last night? Maybe she didn’t get any sleep and she’s losing her mind. “Okay, so is there a strategy?”
“Yes, we have to follow certain rules in order to win.”
I stare at her soulful eyes. Did she spend all night thinking about us? While I was figuring out how to make her fall in love, she strategized our week. I don’t know if I’m falling for this crazy quirk or if I’m terrified.
I shouldn’t be surprised. She’s passionate about everything she does. I place a hand on top of hers. The towel is right next to the corner of my lip. “You don’t have to worry. We’ll make this believable. I’ll be the best boyfriend, while you’re going to pretend that you’re madly in love with me.”
Hopefully, by the end, she’ll be used to who I am, and she’ll be in love with me. Maybe I’m not thinking this through, but I hope the plan works.
“Wait, are you telling me that you won’t be in love with me, but I have to be in love with you?”
I lean forward, kissing her cheek and drawing my lips closer to her ear, whispering in a low voice, “Well, if I’m fetching the moon for you, it’s obvious that I’m crazy for you too.”
She shivers. “Umm, now I’m confused as to what we’re doing. Why is the moon involved in this thing?”
“Well, we’ve been together for several months—well, a year. They have to believe that we’re on honeymoon stage number three.”
She opens her eyes wide. “What does that mean?”
“The first one is when a couple begins to date. They can’t keep their hands away from each other, and they behave like crazed teenagers doing it on any available surface and place.
That doesn’t last for long. A couple of months later, they have their first fight.
That’s when they discover makeup sex. So, there’s another wave of crazed love.
They fight just so they can have intense, raw, angry sex. ”
She’s watching me attentively, hopefully eating the bullshit I’m feeding her.
I don’t even know how I’m coming up with it, but I keep going.
“The third one happens when the couple discovers that they can’t live without each other.
That’s where we’re at, sweetheart. We finish each other’s sentences, we know what the other wants to eat, and we?—”
“We’re going to lose this game if that’s your plan,” she interrupts me.
“You’re wrong. It’s perfect.”
“You couldn’t finish my sentences, even if you tried. Actually, you just rumble and grumble to people. I have to translate so others can understand you.”
“See, that’s what I’m talking about. I can’t talk for shit. You’re the one who does it for me. We’re perfect.”And when I finish that sentence, I realize it’s true.
Maybe we are indeed made for each other, and we didn’t see it before. She understands me like no other woman.
She pulls out her tablet and her digital stylus pen. “We’ll do it my way. My ideas will work better.”
Her ideas are temporary. I have to make this permanent, but how?