22. Tell Your Dick It Wasn’t Real
Tell Your Dick It Wasn’t Real
Bree
O h my god. I forgot.
I didn’t know I had forgotten. I thought I remembered very clearly what it was like to kiss Arlo Harper, but I did not. Kissing this man is like nothing I have ever known, and I don’t ever want it to stop.
Arlo’s fingers spread on my back as mine grip into his shirt, feeling the hard expanse of his muscled chest beneath it, and there’s nothing phony about this kiss. His tongue rolls against mine, and I moan into his mouth, which only drives him on. His free hand grips the back of my neck, positioning me exactly how he wants me as he plunges into the kiss, and his beard is rough against my skin in a way that I hope leaves a rash.
‘Y’all need to get a room, chief?’
I pull back, gasping for air and becoming very aware of the hardness pressing against my stomach as my eyes find Jenna’s, Kacey in her arms as they dance and stare at me and Arlo, clearly amused.
‘Um.’ I turn back to meet Arlo’s gaze, but he’s smiling at Jenna.
‘Arlo, hey.’ Cool as a cucumber, he introduces himself, and I just stand there, slack-jawed, as he holds my body against his to hide his erection.
‘Jenna,’ she grins, not even trying to hide her amusement, ‘this is my girlfriend, Kacey.’
I’m still kiss-drunk as Arlo says, ‘Nice to meet y’all,’ in that sexy, deep drawl that makes me shiver before he releases me, taking my hand and leading me back to our booth.
‘You want a drink, or shall we leave?’
Blinking, I notice the bar full of people who have known me forever, trying not to stare, and suddenly I feel hot. I have never kissed anybody in the bar, not a kiss like that, anyway. I’m their chief of police. It feels a little inappropriate, which I know is crazy, but I’m not in my right mind.
‘Leave,’ I say, and he nods as I grab my purse, and he takes my hand to lead me from the bar.
On the walk home, I want to ask him what the hell that was. I want to ask him why that didn’t feel fake and what happens now, but I remember as the cottages come into view that we are probably being watched and listened to, so I stay quiet and try to keep up with his long strides in the stupid heels I can’t wait to take off.
Arlo walks me to my door, and I know if just get him alone, I can ask him about the kiss.
‘Do you want to come in?’ I ask softly, and he reaches up to push my hair behind my ear as he steps close, and his hand gently grips the back of my neck.
He lowers, pressing his mouth to mine. This kiss is chaste in comparison, but my stomach flips all the same until he pulls back. ‘Not tonight, sugar.’
‘ Arlo ,’ I whisper as I try to plead with him, tell him that I need to understand, but he just steps back.
‘Not tonight.’ His voice is a little firmer now, and I step back, unlocking the door as Arlo shoves his hands in the pockets of the jeans that he wears so well.
Inside, I turn the lock, waiting for the porch light outside to click off, telling me he walked away before I pull the burner phone out of the side table drawer and open a message to him.
Me : Arlo, what the hell just happened?
My thumb hovers over the send button as I contemplate the reality of having this conversation and laying it out there with him and what it means. What do I want from this? I loved him once upon a time, but he broke my heart, and now he’s my knight in denim and leather, my fake boyfriend, as he continues to remind me, but that kiss.
‘Fuck it.’ I click send and wait, leaning against the side table until a reply vibrates the cell phone in my hand.
Arlo : You want to elaborate?
Taking a deep breath, I blow it out as I type and send.
Me : Don’t play dumb, Arlo. That kiss… That was not what I was expecting from this.
It takes a minute for the response to come through, and when it does, heat rushes over my skin as my heart rate picks up.
Arlo : It was just a kiss, Bree. Don’t read anything more into it.
And then…
Arlo : This thing between us isn’t real, not anymore. The kiss was just part of the job, sugar. Now, get some sleep.
It hurts. Tears threaten to fall as I stare at the words on the screen. My mind and my heart are at war with each other, but both of them are beyond tired. I’m exhausted. I’m stressed out. My emotions are all over the place, and I’m still living in fear of Nolan’s next move. Tonight was a step up, kissing Arlo at the bar and on my porch, and I know he will have been watching, which means tonight could be the night he makes his move. A sob bursts out of me, and my anger and maybe my pre-menstrual hormones type out my response.
Me : You’re a jerk, you know that? You might want to tell your dick it wasn’t real, seemed like he thought it was!
Petty. That was petty.
Arlo : You thinking about my dick, short stuff? Don’t you worry about him. He got hard while kissing a beautiful woman he used to be pretty well acquainted with. I’d be worried if he didn’t get excited! Don’t lose sight of what we’re trying to do here, Bree. I’ll see you tomorrow.
I don’t respond. I stare at the phone for a moment before wiping my cheeks and shaking my head, annoyed at myself, until a vibration on my usual cell makes my heart sink. Opening the message. I swallow hard. It’s a photo of Arlo and me kissing on my porch tonight, with a target on his head, and it makes my heart race.
He’s angry, and he wants to make sure I know it.