10. Hard Launching the Manwhore
TEN
HARD LAUNCHING THE MANWHORE
? Something To Talk About - Bonnie Raitt
CLIO
Me: People are talking. First date at the town meeting tonight?
Asshole Landlord: The movie was our first date.
Me: That was a chance encounter. Doesn’t count.
Asshole Landlord: Chance encounters aren’t in the contract.
Me: Neither is staring at my ass, but here we are.
Asshole Landlord: I didn’t stare at your ass.
Me: You did. It’s ok. Couples do that kind of thing. You have a nice ass too, Weston.
Asshole Landlord: Pick you up at 4.
I groan, ripping off my shirt and tossing it onto the bed before changing into a green floral maxi dress. It’s all wrong, just like the other two times I tried it on. I slump onto my mattress and grab my phone off the nightstand, swiping over to my text thread with my sister.
Me: What the hell do you wear to a first date?
Copycat: Who cares? I thought this was fake.
Me: It is, but I want to look good.
Copycat: You always look good, babe.
Me: You’re really not helping.
Copycat: Give me a second. I’m calling in reinforcements.
Angelina has been added to the chat.
Lina: I need a visual. Send me some options.
I spend the next thirty minutes laying out several outfits on my bed and snapping photos to send to Callie and Angelina.
Lina: White tank, pink cardigan, wide-leg jeans, white Converse.
Me: How did you do that? It wasn’t even one of the options.
Lina: It’s a talent. I built myself a capsule wardrobe years ago. It’s a game changer for mixing and matching.
Me: You’re a lifesaver. Thanks.
Lina: Anytime. Have fun on your date!
Copycat: I want all the details later!
“Mom! I’m home.”
“In here.”
She strides into the room, holds her arms out wide, and falls backward onto my plush mattress, rolling onto her side and propping her face in her hand. “So. You and Noah?”
I blow out a breath, puffing out my cheeks ending in a quiet raspberry. “Kind of. It’s temporary. I’m helping him out with something.”
“What could you possibly be helping him with that would involve cuddling in the back of a movie theater and getting engaged?”
I run my brush through my hair, taking in my appearance in the full-length mirror. For a second, I wonder if Noah will like what he sees, but I think better of it. Noah’s opinion of me doesn't matter.
“It’s a long story. Just trust me, ok?”
“Me? I’m fine. It’s you I’m worried about.”
“What? Why?”
She sits up straighter, crisscrossing her legs and picking at a thread on her ripped blue jeans. “I just don’t want you to get hurt.”
I set down my hair brush and sink onto the bed, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. “You don’t have to worry about me. That’s my job.”
“Be honest. Do you like him?”
“He’s a good guy. I think maybe we could be friends.”
“But not…”
I don’t even let her get the words out. “Noooo. Nope. That’s not going to happen.”
“Ok…” She sounds skeptical, but it’ll be a cold day in hell before Noah sees me as anything more than his annoying neighbor or—at best—Auggie’s teacher.
She stands, arms outstretched, twirling out of the room like the whirlwind that blew her into my life sixteen years ago. “Have fun,” she sing-songs on the way out.
“No. Nope. Absolutely not.”
“If you’re gonna be my woman, you’ll have to ride my bike.”
I cross my arms over my chest, taking a defiant stance. “That’s not in the contract. I never agreed to it.”
“File it under ‘etc.’ in the canoodling clause.”
“Do you want to end up in prison for my murder?”
I regret the words as soon as they’re out. Rumors have been swirling about Noah’s brother lately, and he hasn’t confirmed them, but the look on his face tells me everything I need to know. Way to go, Clio. Open mouth, insert foot.
Noah’s jaw ticks and he looks away, climbing onto the front of the bike. He holds out the helmet. “Get on the fucking bike, Clio.”
My heart stutters. “Noah… I…”
“We’re going to be late.”
I pull on the helmet, tucking my hair away from my face, and climb onto the back of his bike. It’s not the most comfortable position to be in, but I’ve already fucked up enough for one date; I shouldn’t make matters worse.
I hold onto his hips, my hands curling in his leather jacket.
“You’re gonna have to hold on tighter.” In a move that shouldn’t be as sexy as it feels, he takes my hands and wraps them all the way around his waist, setting them against his hard abs.
He pats my hands twice, and the engine starts, vibrations pulsing between my thighs.
“Don’t let go for anything,” he shouts. “I’ve got you. I won’t let you fall.”
Something about those words said by this man at this moment leaves a hollow ache in my chest. No man has ever said such a thing to me.
The sentiment curls around me like soft velvet, easing my frayed nerves—at least until he starts driving and my stomach plummets to the ground.
I bury my head against his back, hanging on for dear life as he navigates through the alley and onto the road.
I’m positive he’s taking it slow for my benefit, but I still feel like I might throw up.
It’s a short ride to the library, but I’m grateful all the same when he parks in the back alley and kills the engine.
I pull off the helmet, practically hyperventilating.
He climbs off the bike first and gives me a once-over. “Still in one piece. Guess I won’t be joining my brother.”
“Noah. I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking. I shouldn’t have said what I said back there.”
“It’s fine. We shouldn’t keep them waiting.”
I gaze at him expectantly, holding out my hand. “Engaged, remember?”
He loosely weaves his fingers through mine, the bare minimum by anyone’s standards. As he starts to walk away, I tighten my grip and tug him back. “We don’t have to do this. We can end it right now if that’s what you want.”
“No. We already signed the contract. Let’s get this over with.”
I scoff, pulling my hand away. “Sure. Because I want the entire town to see just how much my so-called fiancé enjoys my company.” I turn my back on him, pacing back and forth a few steps in each direction.
“God, I can’t even make it through one fake date.
How the hell am I going to handle a real one? ”
His strong arms wrap around my shoulders from behind, halting my movements. Warmth spreads all the way from my toes to my cheeks, which are probably a ridiculous shade of red. Against every one of my finely tuned instincts, I rest my hands on his forearms and melt into him.
His warm breath ruffles my hair when he exhales. “Are we good?”
I sigh, releasing the residual tension. “Yeah.”
A comfortable silence descends, neither of us pulling away or daring to say anything else. Naturally, my mind starts spiraling, and I’m overwhelmed by the need to fill the space. “Are you canoodling, Noah Weston?”
“Don’t get used to it, princess.”
That’s exactly what I’m afraid of.
NOAH
I’m so fucked.
The second she stepped out of that apartment in her painted-on jeans, I knew it. How the hell am I supposed to keep my hands off her when she looks like that? With the no sex clause in place, it’s just my hand and me for the next three months, and I’m already on edge.
I took my frustrations out on her over some stupid fucking joke, and I hurt her feelings. I’m supposed to be teaching her how to date, but all I’m doing is throwing up red flags.
We could’ve easily walked from the apartment and saved ourselves the argument, but a dark part of me wanted to know what it would be like to have her on my bike.
I refuse to acknowledge why that is. This is temporary.
Once the three months are up, she’ll go back to her sunshiny existence, and all will be well.
Hand in hand, we walk into the meeting room where the usual crowd has already gathered. Chatter dies down and heads swivel in our direction as we take the two empty seats beside Ben and Quinn.
Quinn’s eyes widen, and she lets out a high-pitched squeal. “Oh my god, it’s true?”
Clio scrunches her nose, nodding as she nibbles on her bottom lip.
“I fucking love this for you. Get it, girl.”
“Quinn!”
“What? One of us should.”
Ben recoils. “Can you not? I’m right here.”
“Oh, shut up, Benjamin. You’re not exactly a virgin.”
“I don’t need to hear about my sister’s sex life.”
She crosses her arms and shrinks in her seat. “Well, lucky for you, I don’t have one.”
Milton bangs the gavel, putting an end to the awkward back and forth happening in the back row.
“Welcome to the Willow Valley town meeting. We have a lot to go over today, so I will cut to the chase. The Willow Tree Festival kicks off this weekend, a tradition that is deeply rooted in this town’s history.
Nearly a hundred years ago, John Sinclair and Annie Belmont met at a small summer camp nearby.
As their teenage whirlwind romance was coming to an end, they agreed to meet here on the cliffside at the old weeping willow tree on the same day every year until they could finally be together.
Some years later, after the summer camp disbanded, John proposed in that very same spot, and they settled on this land, founding the town of Willow Valley.
They met beneath that tree every year until she passed away.
John still visited with a bouquet of flowers every year until the day he died. ”
“Hogwash,” Janet says. “That’s just some old tale the Sinclairs made up to make this town seem more interesting. There’s a stack of old records in the library to prove it.”
“They do this every year,” Quinn whispers. “In four seconds, Teddy’s going to lose his shit. Three… two…”
Teddy stands, his chair legs scraping against the floor. “On behalf of my family, I’m offended that you would even suggest such a thing. My grandfather has a pile of love letters and the engagement ring to prove it!”
“Booo. Sit down, Teddy,” shouts a heckler in the front row.
Quinn snorts, and Clio offers her a discreet high five.