Chapter 6
six
Barry
Petra and I stand outside of the glitzy resort gastropub, side by side.
To the right of the door is a sign heralding tomorrow’s wedding and welcome the guests. My legs feel like they’ve been taken out from under me.
I haven’t even calmed down enough to berate myself for eating out a nineteen-year-old girl.
No, my fucking pulse is still going a hundred miles an hour.
How am I supposed to cope with the mental image of her opening her legs wider while I unloaded?
How am I supposed to eat regular food after consuming such succulence?
God. I’ll never stop obsessing over the taste of her.
Pure, cinnamon magic between her thighs, I swear on everything holy.
My goose is cooked. I’ve just resigned myself to a fate where this girl haunts me for the rest of my natural life. Not only because she tasted so sweet…
But because of what led up to my getting on my knees.
I want a licked apology.
Now.
You’ll call me princess when you’re apologizing.
Holy hell, man. I never would have thought a tiny slip of a girl ordering me around would make my dick so hard. Make me feel…purposeful. Whole. Like a vault containing a secret had been unlocked inside of me.
Did I do enough to make up for throwing her onto the sink? For yelling at her?
I can’t see her face because she’s much lower to the ground than me, but I can’t stop thinking about what she said before leaving the bathroom.
Or how she said it, rather.
Like she was going to cry.
I don’t think I can go into this party until I’m sure everything is solid between us. I’m not sure what is going on with me and Petra, but my gut tells me it’s really important.
That she’s really important.
Also, I think I might have to kill myself if she cries in front of me.
“Hey.” I brush my fingertips against the small of her back. “Are you okay?”
“Of course, I am.” She slides her hand into mine and squeezes. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
Damn. I like holding her hand. A lot. I was so determined to stay away from her, because of her age, because she’s a virgin and she came here to help me.
Now that we’ve been in two intimate situations, how can I put the horse back in the barn?
Is there any point trying? “We haven’t talked about what happened in the room. ”
She seems to force a laugh. “We have bigger fish to fry, don’t we? I’m about to meet the famous grandma.” A beat passes while she regards me. “You still want to go through with convincing her we’re a couple, right?”
“That’s why you’re here, isn’t it?” I say, distracted by her smooth, delicate fingers threading through my ugly, crooked ones.
“Yes,” Petra says without missing a beat. “Exactly.”
My head comes up as I replay what I just said. “I would want you here with me, either way. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make it sound like…”
“Like this is just a job?” Again, her smile seems forced. “It is just a job, big boy. You don’t have to apologize for reminding me.”
Dammit. Have I hurt her feelings? “Petra—”
“Come on, let’s go in.”
I don’t really have a choice, because the hostess opens the door for us and boom, suddenly every head in the bar is turning in our direction.
The breath evaporates from my lungs at the overwhelming amount of attention.
Someone that I don’t recognize leans and whispers to the person beside them.
There are a ton of whispers. All at once.
I hear he came by those scars in combat.
Who is his date? Is that his girlfriend?
Opposites attract. Isn’t that what they say?
Anxiety coils around my spine like a snake.
I have the urge to turn around and walk straight back out of the bar, but I have the good sense to glance down at Petra.
She’s beaming at our rapt audience, holding my hand tightly in her grip.
She even leans into my side and nuzzles my pec with her nose, her green eyes sparkling up at me.
“Let’s find your brother and his bride first,” she says, for my ears alone.
“Don’t worry about anything, baby. Just stand there and look like a hero. I’ve got you.”
Some of the pressure in my throat lessens.
As long as I focus on her eyes, I can breathe, I find.
“You good?” she says.
I grunt, giving a curt nod. With a long, steadying breath, I tear my attention off Petra and perform a search of the room, locking in on a familiar group toward the rear of the establishment. “My brother and his fiancée are there, in back. They’re with my grandmother.”
“Perfect,” she responds, simply.
I hesitate. “Yeah.”
“You look great. You smell great. Your girlfriend is hot. Let’s go.”
It’s hard to believe I’m smiling in the midst of a curious crowd, but I am. I’m smiling, even though I feel like a bumbling giant in a sea of normal-sized people. Petra drops compliments to women that we pass and plucks a glass of champagne off a tray.
I pluck it right back out of her hands and set it on a table while she grumbles.
By then, we’ve reached the back of the bar where my brother, his intended and my grandmother are huddled in a quiet threesome.
My grandmother sees me first, her eyes widening with joy. “Oh, Barry! Oh, my Barry. You made it. I wasn’t sure you’d be able to come!”
I have to take a deep breath, because in just the two short years since I’ve seen my grandmother, she’s aged.
A lot. The whites of her eyes have spots that weren’t there before and her frailty is much more pronounced.
I shouldn’t have waited so long to visit.
I shouldn’t have needed a reason to come.
Petra squeezes my hand, reminding me to speak.
“Grandma,” I say, leaning down to hug her. When I pull back, I notice my grandmother’s gaze swing toward Petra hopefully. “This is my girlfriend. Petra.”
I’m unprepared for the burst of pride in my chest.
Just saying those words out loud is a privilege.
“Petra, this is my grandmother, Dolly.” When my brother punches me playfully in the shoulder, I chug through a laugh. “And this is my asshole brother, Craig. His fiancée, Karen.”
Petra shakes everyone’s hand, smiling warmly. “It’s so nice to finally meet everyone. You must be so excited about tomorrow. What a beautiful venue you’ve chosen.”
With that, she’s won over the bride. “Thank you. We practically had to compete in the Hunger Games to secure a spot.” She waves her champagne flute between me and Petra. “So…how long have you two been dating?”
“Just over a year.” Petra blushes a little, leaning into my side. “Best year of my life.”
“It certainly hasn’t been a very long life,” my brother comments, chuckling.
His bride and my grandmother both smack him in the chest.
“Sorry!” Craig winces at my scowl. “It was just an observation.”
“An accurate one, I suppose. I do have a misleading baby face,” Petra chimes in with a laugh. “It took some convincing to make Barry take me out on a date.”
“You had to convince him?” my grandmother exclaims. “How did you do that?”
“A blow dart and a net. I knocked him out and dragged him home.”
Two seconds of silence tick by, before everyone bursts into laughter.
Petra goes up on her tiptoes and plants a kiss on my cheek, dropping back down to give my grandmother a conspiratorial wink. “That’s how I plan to get him to the altar, too.”
A wet sheen appears in Dolly’s eyes. “Oh, Barry. She’s a keeper. Hold on to this one.”
“I plan on it,” I manage, a stitch in my chest.
Petra blinks up at me, her bottom lip trembling a little before she’s back to smiling.
Jesus. This girl could win an Oscar.
In the space of five minutes, she’s convinced my family that we’re a happy couple. They really believe I’ve been dating this phenomenal person for a whole year, instead of the truth. That I’ve been living in a cabin in the woods avoiding humans like the plague.
But the fairy tale isn’t really true, is it?
We’re pretending.
I must remember that.
The more time we spend together at the party, however, the more I seem to forget we’re faking.
Petra spends another half hour with my grandmother, regaling her with stories about how we met, how we fell in love.
I sit and listen like a lovesick idiot, picturing the lies Petra is weaving, as if they really happened. Wishing…they were true.
She’s nineteen.
You’re forgetting she’s nineteen.
And you’re just a job to her. She said exactly that, right before we walked into the party. Get your head out of the clouds.