Getting Real With a Fake Boyfriend

1. Chapter One

Chapter One

Samantha

Will always drove like a bat out of hell.

Since our very first date, when I’d allowed him to pick me up—against every one of my instincts and the chagrin of smart women everywhere—he’d been in a rush.

He hated being late with the passion of a thousand burning suns, and if anyone got in his way…

well, he simply didn’t allow it. He would have mowed down a nun if it meant getting to his destination five minutes sooner.

It was a funny habit. Almost endearing, if my life hadn’t been in constant danger the last six months.

I had been clinging to my seat as he sped around curves, narrowly missing pedestrians, when my phone signaled an incoming text, then another, and another.

Will took his eyes from the road to glance at me. “Let me guess who’s texting you.”

My fingers were gripping so hard they left imprints when I let go. I would have held on to the oh-shit handle above my window, but Will found that insulting, like I didn’t have confidence in his driving abilities.

He was a perfectly skilled driver. In fact, he would have done well on a racecourse. His driving style combined with busy Denver streets, however, I wasn’t sure mixed well.

But I didn’t say that. He didn’t find jokes about our imminent death funny. I’d learned that early too.

I dug in my purse for my phone, frowning at the screen.

Ade: I’m dying, Sammie.

Ade: Fever, chills, the works. It’s embarrassing.

Ade: You know I hate bothering you, but I could use some help.

Leave it to Adrian Wells to be embarrassed over being sick. Truth be told, I couldn’t remember him ever having more than a cold, and even then, he’d banish the germs as quickly as they’d take hold. Knowing Adrian, he probably scowled at them until they scampered off, terrified.

Sighing, I texted him back.

Me: You absolutely love to bother me. What kind of help do you need?

Ade: True. But only because I know how much you enjoy being needed.

Will took a sharp turn, and my shoulder crashed into my door, my phone nearly flying out of my hand. I hadn’t been prepared, and a little shriek slipped out before I could bite it back.

He grunted, flexing his fingers around the wheel. “Really, Samantha? Don’t be so dramatic.”

I straightened, clutching my phone tight in my hand. “Sorry. I wasn’t paying attention. The turn took me by surprise. Are we late?”

His exhale was as heavy as a bull’s. “What does Adrian want?”

“We haven’t gotten to that yet. He said he’s sick, which isn’t something he would willingly admit unless he was feeling really poorly.”

Me: Thanks for doing me a favor.

Ade: Anything for you.

Me: Was there a reason for this text, or did you just want to disrupt my evening?

Ade: The disruption is a bonus, especially if you’re with the douche. I need medicine. Whatever shit will make me stop shaking.

Adrian had liked exactly one of my boyfriends, and that was back in high school. Barely scraping five and a half feet—a full six inches shorter than me—Simon Mills, captain of the chess team, had worshiped the ground I walked on. Adrian had approved of him wholeheartedly.

As most high school relationships went, we’d lasted a semester, and I was almost certain Adrian had been more distraught over our breakup than Simon.

Then again, I’d immediately begun dating a soccer player named Jake, whose last name I’d long ago forgotten.

Adrian had not enjoyed getting dragged to all his matches, but as my lifelong best friend, he went because it was his job.

He’d also joined the chess club, saying it was to spite me and my terrible taste in boys, but he couldn’t explain away becoming the president after Simon graduated.

And being his best friend, I never pressed him on it.

Adrian disliking Will was no different than all the others who’d come before him.

And, like most of my previous boyfriends, the feeling was mutual.

Will didn’t trust Adrian. He didn’t like all the time we spent with each other, and he really didn’t approve of our inside jokes and playful banter.

The few times I’d tried to bring them together hadn’t gone well, so I’d stopped trying.

Me: Do you have a fever?

Ade: Probably.

Me: Did you not take your temperature?

Ade: I’m not a child. I don’t own a thermometer.

Me: That doesn’t make sense. Are you delirious?

Ade: Maybe. The room was dancing for a while. I’m pretty sure that wasn’t real, but I can’t be 100% certain.

“Shit,” I murmured.

Will let out another bull-like gust of breath. “Let me guess, Adrian needs your attention.”

“He asked me to bring him medicine.”

“We have reservations,” he replied tightly.

“His place is on the way, and we’re early. I’ll be in and out in five minu—”

The car careened sideways before I could finish speaking, knocking my head against the window and the air from my lungs.

It took several seconds to understand he’d parked at the curb in front of a pharmacy, and even more to catch my breath.

Once I did, I thanked him as I hurried out of the car, only a little more than halfway hoping he’d drive away as soon as my feet hit the sidewalk.

When Adrian didn’t answer the door, I let myself into his condo. Will followed close behind, a death grip on my waist.

“Ade?” I called, tucking my key back in my purse. “I’m here.”

His living room was spotless except for a crumpled blanket on his sleek leather sofa. He wasn’t anywhere close to a neat freak; he just didn’t have many possessions. Not even a throw pillow to rest his head on or a trinket from a trip. Buying things like that would never occur to him.

His voice was far off and wobbly. “Back here.”

My heart immediately climbed into my throat, and I spun to Will, pressing my hand to his chest. “Please stay out here. He won’t want you to see him sick.”

It took a long beat, but finally, he nodded. “Fine. Just get in and get out. I don’t love the idea of you breathing in his germs.”

“I’m sure I’ll be quick.” Leaning in, I kissed his cheek. “Be right back.”

He caught me before I could go and smashed his mouth against mine. My teeth dug into my upper lip before he swept his tongue into my mouth and groaned. He dipped me back, kissing me deeply, scrambling my brain with the unexpectedness of it all.

As soon as I started to regain my equilibrium, he brought me upright again and stepped back, sweeping his eyes over me. He straightened the bodice of my dress and smoothed a hand over my hair.

“Hurry,” he said gruffly. “I’ll be here.”

“Okay.” Slightly dizzy, I spun around and hurried toward Adrian’s bedroom.

This was how Will kept reeling me in. What he lacked in patience and safe driving ability, he more than made up for in…

well, sex. He kept me sated and my mind ever-so-slightly fuzzy so I never fully formed a concrete opinion of him.

In the back of my orgasm-soaked mind, I knew this wasn’t healthy, and I often thought I’d do something about it; then he’d kiss me silly again, and I’d forget.

Maybe that wasn’t so bad. It wasn’t like speeding was a character flaw.

Or was it?

I shook my head and peered into Adrian’s room.

All the lights were on, even the big one above his bed.

This was where his mess was contained. Papers scattered on surfaces, laundry overflowing his hamper, cups stacked precariously on the edge of his dresser.

He didn’t usually like to let me see the evidence of his humanity.

In the center of it all, Adrian was curled up on his mattress, blankets tangled around him, eyes squeezed shut.

“Adrian?”

The furrow in his brow deepened, and his chin lifted slightly in my direction, but that was the movement he made. I rushed across the room, climbing onto the bed with him, and skimmed my fingers along his sweaty forehead, nearly hissing at how hot he was.

“Oh, buddy. You definitely have a fever,” I murmured.

“Just give me some Tylenol and let me die,” he grumbled, burrowing his face into the mattress.

“Not on my watch.” Digging into the bag from the pharmacy, I pulled out the thermometer and ripped open the packaging.

Adrian cracked one eye open. “That better not be rectal.”

I arched a brow, even as my insides quivered with worry. “We both know you wouldn’t be opposed to that.”

He slammed his eye shut. “No ass play between friends.”

I laughed and brushed his hair back, swiping the thermometer over his forehead. “Did you read that in the Miss Manners column?”

He didn’t bother answering, and my mood for bantering plummeted as I read the number on the screen.

“Dammit, Ade. Your temperature is 102.4. Have you taken anything?”

“Don’t have any medicine,” he mumbled. “S’that bad?”

“No painkillers? What kind of adult are you?” Setting my bag on his bedside table, I cupped his cheeks to get his attention. “Lucky for you, I brought everything you need. Can I help you sit up? We need to get you hydrated and bring your temperature down.”

“Don’t want to.”

“Come on. You know how spindly my arms are. There’s no way I can lift you.”

I was only two inches shorter than Adrian, but he had at least fifty pounds on me.

He’d once slung me over his shoulder when I’d started doing a striptease at a frat party in college, then a year later, I hadn’t been able to lift him off the bar floor when he’d drunk himself silly on St. Patrick’s Day.

That had been more than ten years ago. I wasn’t any stronger now, but I imagined he could still put me over his shoulder on a good day.

Today was definitely not a good day, but he helped me move him until he was half sitting against his headboard. The way he winced and clutched at his stomach worried me more than the fever.

“Does your stomach hurt?” I tipped a bottle of water to his lips.

“Everything hurts,” he rasped. “Just need to sleep it off.”

He swallowed the pills I’d placed on his tongue but only drank a few sips. Concern gnawed at me as I watched him, pain slashing his features. It took a lot for Adrian to let on how he was feeling. This had to be beyond his control. He wasn’t even snarking at me.

He looked…small. Helpless. And he was neither of those things.

Sweat beaded on his forehead and above his upper lip.

His dark hair was lank on his head, and his T-shirt clung to his torso.

His skin was paler than I’d ever seen, and the shadows beneath his eyes were deep.

I’d seen him at work the night before, and while he’d been quieter than normal, he hadn’t been anything like… this.

“You can go,” he slurred, eyes squeezed tight. “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yep. Douche is probably wondering where you are.”

I laughed despite myself. “Don’t call him that.”

“I’m dying. I can say what I want.”

Sliding my fingers into his hair, I looked him over. He was still slumped against the headboard, one arm cradling his stomach, his eyes shut with no sign of opening again. Maybe he was right and all he needed was to sleep it off.

“Okay.” I stood by the bed, straightening everything on the bedside table. “I’m going out to dinner. Call me if you need anything, and I’ll come back.”

His brow twitched. “Don’t need a thing.”

“Sure you don’t, Mr. Independent. Maybe I should come back with a rectal thermometer to teach you some humility.”

Another twitch. “You just wanna see my butt.”

“I’ve seen it plenty of times.” I gave his cheek a soft pat. “Get some rest. I’ll check back in on you later.”

I turned all the lights out except the one next to his bed and tucked his blankets around him, then walked out, my heart lodged in my throat.

I didn’t like leaving him this way, but I’d done what I could.

No doubt he’d be on my case, letting me know if he needed me.

Adrian wasn’t shy about interrupting my dates—sometimes for no other reason than to be a bug.

“Samantha.” I whirled around, finding Will standing in the doorway. “We’re going to be late.”

“Better go,” Adrian rasped under his breath.

“I’m coming,” I told Will, then turned back to Adrian. “Be good.”

He grunted, the lines around his mouth deepening. “Mmm.”

Will held his hand out for me, pulling me from the room with his long strides. If I were any shorter, I would have had to run to keep up with him. Luckily, we were the exact same height, so I hurried along, even though nothing felt right about leaving Adrian.

All I could do was hope he’d be okay until I could come back to check on him.