CHAPTER 4 #2
Just a quick, tiny press of lips, but it turns out Damián doesn’t do pecks.
Instead, he places the paper bag on the hood of my car and pulls me against his chest. His mouth finds mine, completely swallowing my surprised gasp.
With one hand, he holds me in place while his other hand slides up to cup the nape of my neck, his thumb stroking my skin.
The taste of him, the feel of his tongue exploring my mouth, and the noises he makes turn me into something I’ve never allowed myself to be: a complete mess.
My fingers grip his shirt as my knees turn to liquid. We kiss for a bit more, and he doesn’t let go until way too long past what could ever be considered “fake.”
When he finally pulls back, his chest is heaving slightly.
His light brown eyes look dark, and a wicked smirk tilts his lips. “To what do I owe the pleasure, guapo?”
“Get in the car,” I manage to breathe out. “I want to take you somewhere.”
“Sure, give me a second.” He takes the bag from the hood of my car and walks to a red motorcycle parked near the entrance.
I climb into my Escalade and beg my body to calm down, as I watch Damián through the window. He unlocks a black chain from a matching red helmet, flips it over, and tucks the grocery bag safely inside.
Then, he does the weirdest thing I’ve ever seen… He pats the gas tank and whispers something to the bike.
What the hell is he doing?
Damián opens the passenger door, sliding in and twisting all the way around to put the helmet and bag in the backseat.
“Did you just say goodbye to your motorcycle?”
“Of course.” He puts on his seatbelt as I pull into traffic. “How else is my baby going to know I’m coming back for her later?”
I burst out laughing, and when I glance over, Damián is just staring at me, his mouth open in surprise.
“Why are you looking at me like that? You’re the weirdo explaining his schedule to a piece of metal.”
“Agree to disagree,” he smiles, taking a slow sip of his frappe. “And why are y—”
“Why am I taking you to this place?” I interrupt, giving him a hand signal to mind what he says, and he nods. “Because waiting two more days to see you was too long.”
“Wow, you missed me that much?”
“You could say that.”
“So… where is this magical place you wanted to take me?”
“Are you always this impatient?”
“Worse,” he grins around the straw of his frappe.
“I’ll write that down.”
“You’ll write that down?” he asks, amused. “Are you always this practical?”
“You have no idea.”
“Then I’ll write that down.” He stretches his frappe toward me. “You want some?”
“No thanks. I’m not as eager to get diabetes as you are.”
“Ha! You sounded just like my sister.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“Please do.” Damián looks around and slurps his frozen treat. “Are we there yet?”
“Almost, you impatient child. I just need to take a quick shortcut.” I turn down a narrow street that’s almost hidden between the trees and lower my speed.
I reach deep under the dash, flip a hidden toggle switch, and a low, nearly inaudible hum instantly fills the car.
“Signal jammer,” Damián nods, looking genuinely impressed.
“The car is bugged, but this area has terrible reception, so we have ten minutes of privacy before the ‘interference’ looks suspicious.”
Damián whistles. “Classy. So, what’s the emergency?”
“We need to tweak our plan a bit.”
“What part? The location? The timeline?” he asks.
“More like… our status.”
“Our status?”
“Yeah… We can’t be fuckbuddies.”
“We can’t be fuckbuddies?”
“Oh my God, Damián!” I glare at the man. “Are you just going to repeat every single thing I say? The jammer works for ten minutes, not ten hours.”
“Sorry, I won’t interrupt you again,” he chuckles. “Why can’t we be fuckbuddies?”
“As twisted as it is, my father is incredibly traditional. He only trusts those in his dumb inner circle to get close to his private life. So… long story short, for you to get into our house and for this plan to work out, we’ll need a bigger commitment than just casual hookups.”
He just nods, slurping his drink. Though I’m pretty sure he’s not really understanding what I mean.
So, I spell it out for him.
“As in… we’ll have to be boyfriends.”
Damián chokes on his drink and coughs. Okay, now he understands.
“Yeah… Well, I mean, being my boyfriend will grant you way more access than just being a hookup would,” I explain while trying very hard not to look as nervous as I am.
Who knew asking the hottest man I’ve seen to fake date me would be more nerve-wracking than going against my father?
“I don’t know. That sounds a lot like commitment.”
“It’s a fake commitment,” I point out.
“It’s still a commitment.”
“Can you stop being so annoying? It’s just a title.”
“If it is just a title, then we can have another one that’s not ‘boyfriend’.”
“Yeah, like what? Taco Masters?” I say, full of sarcasm, but the manchild laughs.
“That sounds much better,” he agrees.
“I’m being serious, Damián.”
“Me too… I’ve always wanted to be a Taco Master.”
“Seriously?… How the hell have you ever dated before?”
“I haven’t.”
“What?” Now that’s shocking. “Why?”
“I don’t date. I’ve never had a boyfriend, and I’m not starting now.”
“Not even a fake one?”
“I don’t do boyfriends.”
I sigh, annoyed at this whole conversation.
And even if I don’t want to admit it, I feel a bit hurt. Like, fuck him for acting as if being my fake boyfriend was such a horrifying torture.
“As you wish,” I say, beyond annoyed. “But since you are the one who fucked up my mission by not holding onto a damn phone, you’d better find another way to infiltrate my father’s business, a plan that doesn’t include me.”
I stretch my hand under the dash to turn off the signal jammer, but Damián catches my wrist, stopping me.
“Stop… fuck… just…” He rubs his hands over his face and groans. “Fine,” he mutters, sounding entirely unconvinced. “We’ll be boyfriends or whatever. Just one condition…”
“If it’s something childish, I swear—”
“It’s not, I promise… But, if we do it, all this, our new fake status and everything, never reaches my family. Understood?”
“Understood.” I nod back.
Don’t ask, don’t ask why…
It’s personal, Ollie, don’t ask…
“Why?… Is your family against you dating men?” I ask.
To my surprise, he laughs out loud. “The exact opposite. They would be so fucking ecstatic; they’d probably find us a church to get married in as soon as they hear I actually committed to someone.”
“They sound great.”
“They are. Which is why I don’t want them to feel hopeful and happy, only to break their hearts.”
“I promise you, it won’t reach your family.” Without thinking, my hand moves to squeeze his, and he must be as startled as I am because his usual grin drops and he just stares at me. “And I mean nothing will reach or touch your family, Damián.”
“Thank you.” He squeezes my hand back before moving away to grab his never-ending frappe. “By the way, how did you know I was at this grocery store?”
“Please… I am the primary informant for four agencies around the world. I know your favorite coffee, the name of your first pet, and even the fact that you buy the expensive organic eggs because you think they taste ‘happier.’ Finding you at your favorite grocery store isn’t exactly Mission: Impossible. ”
“Point taken… You’re a scary man, Oliver West.”
“I’m a desperate man,” I correct him. “And speaking of knowing most things about you… You need a new apartment to keep as a front and a new identity.”
“Alexios already erased my entire life and connections to Harknett.”
“Online, yes, but when we become public, my father’s men will eventually follow you. I don’t want them to see the real Damián Soto when they do. Did this Alexios already give you another identity?”
“He’s working on it.”
“Do you know anything about art?” I ask, and he nods. “Tell him to add ‘art dealing’ to your profile; Elijah will like you right away.”
Damián takes out a phone and starts texting.
“The jammer is still on…”
“I know.” He turns and shows me his phone the same way a kid would show off a new, expensive toy. “This sexy thing is an Ultra-Wideband.”
And okay, I am impressed. I’ve always wanted one.
“Let me guess… Alexios?”
“Yep,” he says as he finishes his text and sends it.
“I need to meet that Alexios guy.”
“Why?”
“He sounds super cool.” I shrug and sigh. “Maybe I picked the wrong Harknett to be my boyfriend.”
“Hey! Not even two minutes of a fake relationship, and you’re already replacing me? Ah! The betrayal.”
BZZT… BZZT.
Damián opens his phone and checks the text. “My team says they’re adding the art dealer part to my profile and that I’ll have a penthouse in Soho by Tuesday.”
“Penthouse?”
“Yes. Rich people are more open and quicker to trust those who also have money. Most think others won’t try to use them for what they have when they already have it themselves.”
“Sounds about right.” I check the timer I set for the signal jammer. “We have less than two minutes left. Anything else we need to discuss?”
“No. You?”
“No…” I say, and look around in different directions to decide where to go.
“You don’t have anywhere to take me, do you?”
“No… But I can’t drop you back without looking suspicious.”
“Need help getting out of this? I can text my team to give me an urgent call so that the van following us can hear.”
“Is that a thing? I thought that only happened in movies when the actress wanted to get out of a shitty date.”
“Oh, it’s a thing. And a very useful one.”
As Damián types another text, the alarm I set for ten minutes starts to beep, and the jammer turns off.
“But that is the stupidest thing to be worried about,” I say, the first thing that comes to my mind. “But I guess Zara is that way.”
“She was probably just having a bad day,” Damián says, following along. “Maybe you should go get some drinks with her.”
“Now you sound like her.”
Damián’s phone rings, and he clicks the speaker button, followed by a friendly “Hello.”
“Hey, dipshit! You left your tortillas in the oven, and now half of the kitchen looks black. Come back and fix it!”
I bite my lip hard, trying my hardest not to laugh. Who the hell is that man?