Chapter 9
SWAYZE
“What the hell was that, Swayze?” Mia’s angry gaze spears me from across the kitchen.
What was that?
That was a man pushed to his limits.
A man who thought you spent the last week fucking someone else, only to get thrown into a tailspin tonight.
A man so fucked up over your kisses, he needs to know he can make you feel something too.
“I was testing a theory.”
Her violet eyes flash with fury, but at this point I'm pretty sure I’m just as entitled to be annoyed with the stunt she pulled tonight.
Some part of me probably is every time I think about how quickly she rejected the idea of a date with me but so easily dropped the boyfriend bomb in front of both our families.
Okay, so I am a little pissed.
Dragging my hand through my hair to ease some of the tension, I glare at her. She’s already got that look, fingers poised mid-air, ready to refute me.
“What was that tonight, Mia? Why the hell would you put us on the spot like that and lie to our families? You do realize we have to see them again, and a whole lot in the next month for that matter too. We can’t just disappear and say, see you at Christmas.”
She winces at my tone, her thick waves falling in front of her face while she gazes up at me from under long, dark lashes. Color creeps into her golden cheeks, as she sinks her teeth into her plump bottom lip.
Fuck, she’s pretty.
No, Wolff. Are you new? What the fuck, bro?
“I’m sorry, ‘Ze. I panicked. When I saw that creep, I just didn’t know what to say.” She holds my gaze imploringly, staring straight into my soul.
I could so easily fold for this woman.
I want to.
But I can’t.
I need answers.
“Why not tell them you’re seeing someone? I haven’t seen you since you left for your date on Saturday, so clearly he’s doing something right. Why drag me into your bullshit?”
My blood burns at even the mention of that guy, hands flexing on the counter, desperate to rip him apart for even looking at her.
This is so fucked.
I get to be the fake boyfriend, stealing the occasional kiss for show in front of our family, while she’s off fucking some other guy’s brains out.
When she’s giving him what should be mine.
How am I supposed to be okay with that?
I can’t fake anything with her when what I feel for her is as real as breathing.
She shakes her head, her eyes going impossibly wide. “I’m not seeing anyone else, Swayze. The date on Saturday was a disaster. I left after an hour and hung out with Haven. I’ve been there all week because Axel’s been working overnight shifts.”
Instantly my muscles unlock, and I slump against the counter, my head spinning. The tension I’ve been carrying all week leaves my body in a rush with my next breath.
There’s no one else.
Thank fuck, there’s no one else.
She takes a step closer, leaving inches between us, flooding my senses with her sweet floral scent again.
“I really am sorry I sprung it on you that way. But do you think maybe you’d consider doing it? For real?”
Wait.
My whole body freezes while I stare at her, processing what she just said.
For real? As in, really date her?
As in… she’d be mine?
Fuck yes, I’d date her for real in a fucking heartbeat.
“You wouldn’t have to do much. We could just agree to a truce for now.
It shouldn’t be too hard if we can go back to how we used to be and just fake it in front of our family until the wedding’s over.
And then, when we get home, we say we realized we’re better off as friends.
No harm, no foul.” She talks with her hands, animating the words currently slashing my dreams into nothing.
Christ, a kick in the balls would’ve hurt less, but she continues, totally oblivious.
“We can figure out rules to make sure we’re both on the same page, but it’ll stop our family from meddling trying to set us up with dates for the big day. I don’t know why I didn’t think of it sooner. We know each other better than we know ourselves, right? What could possibly go wrong?”
What could possibly go wrong? It would be safer to toss myself in a cell with a certified serial killer than to do this.
Her eyes burn a hole through me as she stares at me pleadingly, waiting for an answer.
You know that tension that whooshed out of me earlier? Well, it’s back, and it’s brought friends. My eyes flicker, the early signs of a migraine creeping on.
Fan-fucking-tastic.
“Mia, I don’t—”
Her hands fly to my bare chest, scorching me with her warm touch.
“Please, Swayze. Please do this for me. I swear I’ll never ask you for anything ever again. Don’t make me beg.”
My resolve cracks like thin ice under the weight of her puppy dog eyes. Her face is so open and earnest.
Mia never needs anyone.
But right now she needs this.
She needs me.
I don’t know why it’s so important to her, but… fuck, there’s tears in her eyes.
Say no, my guy. She’ll get over it.
NO.
N.O.
Two little letters will keep your sanity and heart intact.
Don’t be a fool.
“Please, Swayze. Will you do it? Will you be my fake boyfriend for the next month?”
No.
Nope.
Oxi—in Greek, so she really gets it.
Non.
Nein.
Hell, give it to her in every language if you have to.
“Ok. Fine. I’ll do it.”
You fucking idiot. It’s your funeral. Don’t come running to me to fix you again when you’ve fucked us over.