Текст книги "Dirty Lies"

Автор книги: Emma Hart

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“How’ve you been?” Dax asks.

“Just fine. You?”

“Missed you.”

“I probably would, too, if I didn’t have to spend every second with myself,” I retort, hitting On on the machine. I suck my lower lip into my mouth and nibble at a bit of loose skin on the surface. Keep your cool, Jessie. Don’t blow up. “Here.” I put the top on the cup and put it on the counter. “That’s two dollars and fifty cents, please.”

“Jessie,” he implores, saying my name in such a way that the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

“Dax,” I reply through clenched teeth, ignoring the tension spreading down from my forehead.

“Please, can we talk?”

“I told you. You’re three weeks too late.” I drop his change on the counter and meet his eyes. “I know exactly why you’re here. Save your breath. I’m not interested.”

“Jessie . . .”

“She said she isn’t interested.”

There’s no ignoring the shiver that snakes down my spine from the second male voice. “Aidan,” I acknowledge.

“Jessie.” His lips pull into a smirk and he winks at me. “Can I get two cappuccinos to go?”

“Sure.” I swallow, turning away as a red-hot flush runs through my body. Good grief, I’m pretty sure I’m on fire right down to the tips of my toes.

Where are those extra twenty thousand people I was asking for this morning? I know it’s Sunday and not tourist season, but come on, Karma. Help me out here.

What are the chances I’d have my ex-boyfriend and last night’s one-night stand in front of me at the same time? While hungover, with my dirty hair in a ponytail and an apron on?

Evidently, not nearly slim enough.

“We were talking,” Dax says tightly.

“What’s your point?” Aidan replies. “You’ve got your coffee and your change. That means I can order. And from what I can see, Jessie wants the conversation over.”

I like my chances.

I clear my throat and froth the milk, the noise drowning out their conversation. None of that crap, thank you very much. I count in my head until the milk is frothed enough, then pour it into each cup equally. “Sofie and Ella?” I ask, ignoring the tension between the two guys at the counter as I pass Aidan the cups.

“How’d you guess?”

“Because you look like you’re ready to kill your brothers.” I raise an eyebrow. “Seven dollars, please.”

He sets one of the cups down on the counter and fishes in his pocket. Instead of ten dollars, he comes up with a card. “This should go through.”

I resist the urge to roll my eyes and turn the card machine toward him so he can swipe. He does, and I clear my throat when Dax looks at me funny. “What?” I ask him, taking back the card machine and tearing off Aidan’s receipt.

“You always were real good at ignoring the obvious,” he snaps.

“Clearly that’s how our relationship lasted as long as it did,” I reply just as sharply.

“When do you get off today?” Aidan breaks through, his bright eyes focused on me.

I ignore the innuendo. My lips part, and I close them to swallow. “Two.”

“I’ll pick you up. ’Kay?”

Um, no. That is not okay. But somehow my mouth says, “Okay.”

“Great.” He leans forward, cups my jaw, and presses his lips to mine. My eyes flutter shut when he holds the kiss for longer than a few seconds, and I lean into him the tiniest amount.

The café door slams, and I jolt back, seeing Dax’s back disappear down Main. “Nice diversion,” I mutter, grabbing a cloth and wiping at the clean counter.

“It was a diversion until I remembered there’re several other people in here who just saw that,” he replies in a hushed tone, his lips twitching in the most assholish way I’ve ever seen. “So looks like I’m pickin’ you up at two.”

I open my mouth to argue, but before any words come out, he’s gone.

Okay.

I’m pissed.

I am really, really pissed.

Who the freaking hell does Aidan Burke think he is, strolling into my workplace and kissing me in front of my ex? So he might be a tiny bit my hero for getting Dax Michaels the heck away from me, but still. The audacity! Especially since he was the one who ran out of the hotel while I slept, leaving me to walk out this morning feeling like a total hooker.

Now he thinks he can pick me up after work like a knight in shining freaking armor and I’ll be okay with that. Well, I’m not. In fact, I’m unokay with it. I’m as unokay with it as anyone could ever be about something.

It’s like when you run out of your favorite mascara, or when you eat the last Oreo in the package, or when your spoon scrapes the bottom of the empty ice-cream carton and all you get out of it is that god-awful warm ice-cream juice.

Totally. Not. Okay.

In fact, it’s so not okay that I’m creeping out the back door and taking the back route home. I don’t care that it’s a little longer or that I have to walk through the alley behind Main Street. Nope. I just care that I won’t have to come face-to-face with that smug son of a bitch Aidan Burke.

God. He might know his way around a bed, but I still really hate his fine ass.

I’m sure there’s something wrong with that thought, mostly the “fine ass” part, but it’s been a long day. Never mind that it’s only two in the afternoon.

Hell. I’m babbling to myself now. In my head. In my thoughts. Jesus—Jessie, you need help.

“And now I’m talking to myself,” I sigh.

“First sign of madness.”

I whip around and look up and into Aidan Burke’s bright blue eyes, rage flowing through me. “Funny. I’m pretty sure the first sign of madness is sleeping with you.”

His lips curve in a slow, tantalizing smirk. “Then, baby, you’re crazy.”

“Sherlock on his day off, is he? Watson on vacation or something?” I storm past him, pushing my bangs out of my eyes. He reaches for me, grasping my hand before I can snatch it back, and I glare at him. “What?”

“I always wondered what it’d be like to fuck you. Now I know.”

“Isn’t this a conversation for your right hand?”

“No, but it could be for yours.”

“Only if that hand is around your neck.” I snatch said hand out of his and put it on my hip. “What do you want? Why are you here?”

“Come with me,” he says, his shoulders rising and falling. “Please?”

“A Burke boy saying please? Did I die and go to hell? ’Cause y’all sure ain’t goin’ to heaven.”

His lips twitch. “Jessica.”

I take two steps away from him.

“Jessie,” he corrects himself. “Come on. Just for ten minutes.”

“Take me home,” I demand, turning back to him. “Let me get changed, and then I’ll consider it.”

He takes a deep breath, his eyes intent on me as he obviously considers it. “Fine.” He grabs my hand once more and tugs me between two buildings and onto Main Street.

I shield my eyes from the sunlight before sliding my sunglasses down as we step from the shadows created by the alleyway, almost falling after him. He leads me to a motorcycle and releases my hand only to kick the stand up and haul his leg over the top. I swallow hard, staring at the sleek black bike, ignoring the way his arms flex, the muscles tensing as he grasps the handlebars.

“Jessie?” Aidan asks, meeting my eyes and holding out a helmet.

“I’m not getting on that . . . thing.”

“This thing happens to be my baby. You wanted a ride, you’re gonna get one.”

I already did—I just don’t want another. “You know, I think I’ll walk. On second thought. Call me instead, okay?”

“I don’t have your number.”

“Email.”

“If I ain’t got your number, I sure as shit don’t have your email.”

“Then message me on Facebook. Or, you know, ask your probable future sister-in-laws for my number. In fact, you should do that anyway. I’m not giving you my number even if you paid me a thousand dollars. Which, by the way, I wouldn’t take.”

“Fuck me, you ramble when you’re angry.” Aidan kicks the stand back down and walks to me. I back up until my butt hits the plate-glass window of the florist behind me and take a deep breath when he comes within a footstep of me and wraps his hand around the back of my neck. He eases my head far enough forward so that he can put the helmet on me and buckle it beneath my chin.

I purse my lips. “How do you know I’m angry?”

“Because you look like you want to bite my balls off,” he whispers, grinning, taking my hand for the third time and yanking me to the bike. He puts his own helmet on and secures it, sitting on the black leather seat before tapping it behind him. “Sit, sunshine. I’ll take you home, then we’ll go for a ride.”

Fine.

I climb on and rest my hands on his waist awkwardly. Jesus, I don’t want to touch this man. I don’t want my hands anywhere near his godly body. I want them tied behind my back and preferably a few hundred miles between us.

Hello? Few thousand new Shelton Bay residents? Can y’all erect your tents now?

“You might wanna hold on to me a little tighter there, sunshine.”

“You might wanna quit it with the happy-go-lucky pet name, sweet cheeks. I’m fine with how I’m holding you, thanks.” I sniff.

His body trembles as he laughs quietly. “If you’re sure.”

“I am.”

He kicks once and the bike roars to life. I clench my fingers into his shirt as the bike vibrates beneath us. He hesitates for all of half a second after I grip him before he revs the ever-loving shit out of the beast between our legs and pulls away from the curb.

“Shit!” I scream, flying backward with the speed of the bike. I grab blindly at Aidan, my heart thumping wildly as I wrap my arms around his waist and press my face into his back as much as my helmet will allow.

Shit, shit, shit!

He could have warned me about this!

Shit, shit, shit!

Some crazy, high-pitched noise makes my throat buzz, but I don’t know if it’s in protest of my body being pressed so firmly against his or if it’s about the ridiculous speed he’s driving this thing at. Oh my god, is this even legal?

The bike. The speed. Being pressed so hard against Aidan Burke. Although that could probably use a law or two. Like, a don’t-fucking-do-it law.

Dear Mr. Senator, can you have this bill passed? Maybe, like, now?

I tense up as he takes a left. Oh my god, I’m gonna fall off this. Oh my god. Oh my god. I knew he couldn’t be trusted. Why did I do this? Holy crap. I should have walked. Oh no, why is he going right? What kind of crazy bastard is he? Can’t he go straight? Can’t this thing be driven on sidewalks? Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god.

The bike comes to a stop, and I do my best to ignore the shaking of his body and his obvious amusement when he kills the engine and says, “We’re here.”

“Thank fuck,” I breathe, exhaling on a whoosh. I yank the helmet from my head and swing my leg over the back of the bike, slamming the helmet down on the seat so harshly that he has to reach back to catch it before it falls to the ground.

“I’ll wait,” he calls.

“Get comfy,” I yell back, slamming the gate after me. I have zero desire to get on that freaking machine ever again. Either he drives back and gets a car or a truck or something or I’m not going anywhere with him.

“Is that—” Sas starts.

“Yes, and Dad, sit on her!” I stomp up the stairs, ripping my shirt off when I reach the hallway. I throw it into my laundry basket, ignoring it when it falls out, and pull a clean tank top from my drawer. I change out my black pants for ripped denim shorts and my black ballerina flats for white ones to match my shirt. After dousing myself with deodorant and a little perfume and letting my hair down, I go back downstairs and groan.

My sister is pinned against the window, face squished against the cold glass and her hands flattened against it. I bet she looks like Chewbacca or something from the outside.

“Uh, what the hell are you doing?”

“Trying to see him.”

“You’re so freakin’ weird.” I roll my eyes and scoot out the door before she can escape. Dad locks the door behind me, and I pause on the top step.

Didn’t I just say I wasn’t going to get back on the bike?

Aidan and his bike or my sister and her Dirty B. obsession.

Oh, Karma . . . Why must you screw with me this way?

I take a deep breath and, closing my eyes briefly, take a moment to think. To just consider what the freaking hell I’m doing standing on my doorstep when Aidan freaking Burke is outside my house waiting for me. To consider what the hell I’m doing considering getting on that asshat’s bike again.

Jesus—I need therapy to deal with him.

The sound of an engine rumbling is followed by a high-pitched shriek from inside my house. I glance at the front-room window and my eyes widen when I see my sister. Holy shit.

She’s no Chewbacca. But she’s the ugliest damn pug I’ve ever seen.

“Dad! Get her away from the window!” I shout, storming down the path to the gate. I can see Aidan’s bike over my mom’s bushes, and damn it all to hell. My sister and her over-the-top obsession have me slamming the gate open and climbing on the back of his bike.

“Think you can make this one without screaming?”

I snatch the helmet and shove it on my head. “Sure. Can’t promise I won’t bite though.”

“Go ahead,” he says quietly, his rich laughter rumbling. “I might like it.”

“Ugh.” I wrap my arms around his waist and snuggle in close before he starts the engine.

Aidan

Holy. Shit.

I’m never, ever fucking putting this chick on the back of my bike ever again.

If her arms around me isn’t bad enough, it’s her tits pressed solidly against my back and the fact I know her pussy is rubbing my ass. Fuck. And in the tiny shorts she’s wearing right now? It’s a mega mindfuck.

In fact, it’s a fuck, fuck, fuck, kinda situation.

As in why the fuck did I kiss her this morning? Why the hell did I bring her close just to shut her ex up? I shouldn’t give a shit. I should’ve taken the damn coffees, paid, and gotten the hell outta Dodge. But no. I had to plant some fucking seeds in Dodge, didn’t I? And then I had to water them by telling that douchebag that I’m her boyfriend.

I have the funniest feeling that ain’t gonna go down well.

In fact, I’m almost certain it’s gonna go down like a shit ton of loose bricks in an earthquake.

Still, though—I can feel her arms wrapped around me tightly, holding her body flush against mine, and it’s different than I thought. She’s so damn soft, so gentle, yet her grip on my shirt is ironclad and her hands are trembling with fear from the bike.

She thinks she’s hard to read.

She isn’t.

Reading Jessie Law is like Einstein reading a picture book.

I turn off the main road and weave down a woody path. Jessie’s fingers tighten against my stomach as we ride over loose sticks and rocks, but she holds on tight until we reach a clearing overlooking a slow-running stream. I kill the engine, and after a second, Jessie pulls her helmet off the way she did at her house, except this time she shoves it at me.

I take it from her, removing my own as she walks toward the small creek, wrapping her arms around herself. The sun glints through a break in the trees and reflects off her bright hair, glowing down onto her arm, her tattoos bright and detailed, yet oddly so perfectly her.

“Who,” she breathes. “The hell do you think you are, Aidan Burke?”

“You answered your own question.” I hang both helmets from the handlebars and kick the stand down, making sure the bike is steady before I dismount.

“You think you’re funny, don’t you?” Jessie turns to me, eyes roaring with anger. “Rolling into the place I work and pulling the stunt you did.”

I hold my arms out. “You were the one whose body was screaming for him to get away from you.”

“And I’m not a damn damsel in distress! This may come as a surprise to you, but some women can fight their own battles, and I happen to be one of them. I was dealing with my fuckturd of an ex just fine until you came along!”

“Yeah? Is shaking like a leaf ‘just fine’?” I question, stepping toward her. “You didn’t look ‘just fine’ to me, sunshine. In fact, you looked fucking petrified.”

“I don’t see how it’s anything to do with you.”

“You’re right. It ain’t. But apparently I have a hero complex.”

“Even with people who don’t need saving?”

“Obviously.”

Jessie folds her arms defensively, her lips pursing. “Take your hero complex and shove it up your ass. I don’t know what the hell you told that piece of shit I dated for too long, but you can tell him it was all lies.”

“Believe me, if it were that easy, I’d be calling his sorry ass.”

“How isn’t it that easy?” She stalks toward me, attitude emanating from her, red hair fluttering across her shoulders. “Dial a number, Aidan. I’m sure even you can work that out.”

“You’re right,” I say huskily, curling my fingers around her wrist when she reaches for the pocket where my phone is. “But it ain’t that easy.”

“What? You forget where the numbers are?”

Her body is flush against mine in one gentle tug. I wrap my arm around her body, my fingers brushing her hip, and I lower my mouth to her ear. “I didn’t forget where the numbers are.” I pause. “Sunshine, I ain’t lookin’ for no numbers. I’m lookin’ for you to shut your pretty little mouth so I can tell you what I have to, before I shut it for you.”

“Try it and I’ll shut yours.”

“Damn, Jessie.” I slide my hand across her ass until I link my fingers between hers. “Anyone tell you you’ve got one hell of a temper on you?”

“Every day,” she grinds out, her body a plank of wood.

“You gonna keep that mouth shut for two minutes, eh, sunshine?”

“You gonna shut yours after?”

“That’s when you get the pleasure of shutting it for me.”

“Lips zipped,” she mutters.

I smile, dipping my head so my lips are by her ear once more. I hesitate, and fuck, I revel in the way she breathes sharper at our closeness. I delight in the way she trembles when my lips brush the lobe of her ear. “Jessie,” I whisper, “It ain’t as simple as you think to tell him to stay away from you. When you were obliviously frothing that milk, shaking your ass side to side to the song on the radio, he asked me who I am to you. And for some goddamn stupid reason, I told him I’m your boyfriend.”

She freezes. “You. Fucking. What?”

“I told him I’m your boyfriend,” I repeat, holding her firmly against me, ghosting my lips down her jaw. “Now it’s simple.”

“Really,” she replies dryly.

“Really.”

“Enlighten me before I twist your balls into tomorrow’s cereal,” she growls.

“That temper is real sexy, in a sick kinda way.”

“Aidan!”

I laugh, letting go of her hands and wrapping my arms around her body. I clasp my hands at the base of her back, because no way will she let me speak unless she’s pinned against me this way. “What I tell you stays with you,” I whisper against her mouth.

She pulls back so our mouths aren’t touching. “Last night did.”

“Kye and I have been warned to clean up our acts,” I say quietly. “Tate’s . . . idiocies . . . are just dying down. For all intents and purposes, everyone is waiting for us to fuck up. First Conner, then Tate—it’s only right that we’re next. We’ve been told to behave.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I planned to stay quiet until the New Year. Just chill with my family. Then I saw you, and it wasn’t such an option.”

“You sound like you’re spewing this shit from a high schooler’s Facebook post commemorating her one-month anniversary with her boyfriend.”

I fight my smile. “Now half Shelton Bay thinks I’m your boyfriend,” I continue, ignoring her. “And it would be a real big help if they and the rest of the world could think that, just for a few weeks.”

Jessie flattens her hands against my stomach and pushes back. “You’re serious?” Her eyes widen, her eyebrow shooting upward and her mouth forming a little o. “Oh my god. You are, aren’t you? You’re freakin’ serious.”

I nod once, not releasing my grasp on her.

“You’re insane.”

I nod again.

She rubs her hand down her face, running her fingers through her bright hair. “And what do I get out of this, huh? Do I get the honorable privilege of being a rock star’s girlfriend until he’s bored of the charade?”

“No.” I cup her chin and force her to look at me. “You get to tell me when it ends—as long as you agree to start it.”

“You already started it. I don’t have a damn choice, do I?”

I grin. “Not really.”

“No. You know what? I have a choice. I always have a choice. I won’t conform to your idiotic, random comment just because you need to keep your nose clean.” She forces my arms away from her and walks back a few steps. “I don’t even like you, Aidan, and you never have liked me. What in the hell makes you think we can make a fake relationship work?”

“It doesn’t have to work,” I explain, folding my arms. “It just has to be believable. Smile, pretend you like me, kiss my cheek, whatever. Just be nice. You know, like normal people do?”

“Ha! Joker.” She glares at me. “No. I won’t do it. I won’t be your fake little bitch so you can keep your ass out of trouble.”

“You asked me what you get out of it.” I walk toward her and take her hands, dropping them to her sides and clasping the sides of her face. She looks like she wants to shove me into the tree trunk behind her, to be honest. “You get your ex leaving you alone. Thinking you’ve moved on. Baby, I ain’t askin’ you to like me. I’m askin’—”

“Me to lie for you.”

“And for you.”

“Are you really turning this around on me?” She shakes her head. “You dick.”

“Happens to be my other middle name.” I lean in. “Think about it, Jessie,” I say softly into her ear. “You want him to leave you alone. I want my manager to leave me alone. It doesn’t have to be long. For all the world knows, we were seeing each other while I was gone, but you realized you couldn’t handle my fame when I came back.”

Her hands tremble at her sides, and she forces them between us, wrapping them around her waist tightly. “I don’t like you, Aidan Burke, and don’t expect me to. That said, you’ve almost forced me into it with your loose lips, and I have to, begrudgingly, admit that your idea has merit.”

I grin.

“But don’t think I won’t kick your ass the second the cameras are down or we’re behind a closed door.” She slides her hand up and presses two fingers against my mouth the way she did last night. Her dark eyes gleam up at me, full of fire and life. “I will kick your ass, okay? I’ll be the biggest goddamned pain in that ass you’ve ever felt. But if it means my ex-boyfriend will leave me alone, I’ll play the part of girlfriend so well you’ll be nominating me for a fucking Oscar next year.”

I swallow my smile. “Yes, ma’am.”

“And if you ma’am me, I will beat you.”

“Noted, sunshine.”

“And that nickname is really pissing me off.”

“I’m not compromising on everything.” I release her. “Besides, the tabloids love a good nickname.”

“I think I’m going to be sick,” she mutters, sweeping her hair around to one side. “I guess this means I have a date to the Halloween party next weekend.” Jessie sighs, looking back down at the creek.

“And you have to practice kissing me like you mean it.”

“Don’t push your luck, Aidan Burke.”

Sofie blinks at me through blond bangs. “You did . . . what?”

“You really want me to say it again?”

She rubs her hand down her face. “Are you insane? She hates you!”

I smirk.

“Ads . . .” She rolls her eyes. “Okay, obviously not that much, but a fake relationship? Do you even know what you’ve gotten yourself into?”

“Yep,” Tate replies for me. “Because unlike the rest of us, he’s the only one who’s had a successful relationship.”

“As evidenced by the fact I am currently single,” I drawl sarcastically at my big brother. “Get a load of that success!”

“Don’t be a little prick.”

“Every big prick needs a little one.”

“Dollars!” Mila shrieks, stomping across the room with her hand out and her chubby fingers clenching in a “gimme” motion. Dutifully, we both dig dollar bills out of our pockets and hand them over. “Tankoo.” She narrows her bright blue eyes, then points at the space between us. “No fight! Bad Uncy Tay and Uncy Ad!”

Sofie smiles behind her glass of juice.

“She’s real bossy, you know that, right?” I look at Sofie. “She’s getting more and more like you. That’s gotta stop.”

Her smile sweetens as she puts her glass down. “Remember who your new fake girlfriend is, Aidan,” she coos. “Remember she’s been my friend since I could undo my own diaper. I could have some real fun with this little scenario.”

“You are a total bitch,” I mutter, shoving another dollar at Mila.

“Oooh, my rich!” she giggles, crawling under the table, presumably just in case she can get herself more dollars.

“I know. But on the flip side, I could also talk to her and make her not, well, hate you so much.”

“Make who hate him?” Kye asks, coming in through the back door, fresh from his run. He pushes his hair from his face and tugs the band holding his phone off his arm.

“His girlfriend.”

“Fake girlfriend,” I stress.

“You’ve got a fake girlfriend? Who the fuck is dumb enough to even pretend to be your girlfriend?” Kye laughs.

Mila’s hand shoves out from beneath the table.

“Aw, shit.”

“Two!” she demands.

He looks at us. “Help me out.”

“You’re on your own,” I laugh, tugging a chair out and looking down so I don’t kick Mila when I sit at the table. “Look, it’s not so crazy. She wants her ex off her back. I need to look good. It’s good for us both.”

“Who is she?”

“Jessie Law.”

Kye pauses. “Of course.”

“Of course? Because I slept with her? How do you know there wasn’t someone else waiting in the wings to enjoy my spectacular company?”

“Because you’d rather jerk off than deal with two women at once,” he snorts, then takes a moment to down some water. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, his eyes full of laughter when they meet mine. “How’d you get her to agree to that? Were you still”—he cuts his eyes to Mila—“playing with her when she did?”

“Nah. I didn’t know she worked in Penelope’s until yesterday, when someone demanded I get them coffee.” I glance at Sof. “And her ex was buggin’ her. Mighta told him she was my girl now.”

“And everyone heard you,” Tate surmises, grinning. “Was Mrs. Beatty in there? She’s a walking gossip rag.”

“How do you think I’m stuck with this?”

“Epic!” he laughs.

I roll my eyes and stand up again. “Look, y’all are laughin’, but Marc nearly had my balls for breakfast when he realized Tate ain’t the only one of us that can get around the ladies. He just never noticed before because Tate was too busy hoggin’ the headlines.”

Tate snorts. “Right—so a fake girlfriend is how you solve our manager’s image issues.”

“He’s got a point,” Kye agrees. “Dude, she doesn’t like you. Okay, she likes you enough to sleep with you, but that’s it. And I can’t say I blame her. You’re kind of an asshole.”

“You realize that whatever you call him you’re callin’ yourself?” Sofie grins, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Identical twins and all that.”

I smirk. “Yeah, bro. Am I still an asshole if that makes you one?”

“I just don’t hide it.”

“Compared to Aidan, who does?” Sofie questions. “There’s like an asshole roster here. Tate, Aidan, Kye, Conner. Although that order does change depending on the day and whether or not Conner remembered to change the toilet paper instead of leaving the fresh roll sittin’ on top of the holder.”

“How’s that lookin’ today, Sof?” Tate gives her a shit-eating grin.

“Conner’s at the top of the list.” Her smile is tight but amused at the same time. “And Ads is second for his little stunt.”

“Little stunt?” I raise my eyebrows. “I take offense at that. A little stunt is helicoptering my D or something—”

“You’re sick!” Sofie shrieks.

“Dragging myself into a relationship with a girl I neither like or can stand to be around unless my cock is involved is just plain dumb.”

“Glad we can agree on somethin’!” Kye slaps my shoulder and strolls past.

“Where’s Mila?” Tate asks, looking under the table. “Shouldn’t she be demanding dollars?”

Sofie snorts. “Y’all went a whole five minutes without cussin’. She’s two. She’s not gonna wait for the Second Coming of Christ for the sake of a dollar or two. What are you gonna do now?” She turns her attention to me. “Oh, dear boyfriend?”

“Depends. You on my side?”

She sucks her bottom lip into her mouth then releases it slowly. “You feel like babysitting?”

“Not exactly,” I reply slowly. “But I get the feeling I ain’t got a choice.”

“Three Saturday nights,” she bargains. “Not in a row. Just whenever. You’ll owe me.”

“For?”

“I’ll convince Jessie you’re not such a rotten little apple and can actually be a gentleman.”

I quirk an eyebrow. “Yeah? And when you gonna do that?”

“After a night of babysitting.”

“Nope. You do it after, you get one night. Do it before and you’ll get all three.”

She sighs. “You drive a hard bargain, Aidan Burke.”

“I’ve got your number and left you a voice mail, Sofie Callahan. Take it or leave it.”

“Ugh, okay! You shit. Shake on it.” She holds out a hand with bright pink, glossy fingernails. I take it, we shake once, then part. “I’ll call your girlfriend and talk you up.”

“Fake girlfriend,” I correct her again.

“Ads, I don’t care if your relationship is the equivalent of a romantic Narnia. She’s your damn girlfriend until you end it.” She gets up and pauses. “Which will be . . . when?”

I shrug. “Like . . . a couple weeks? I don’t know.”

Her sigh follows her out the door. She pokes her head into the front room, nods, then goes upstairs. “Do you have any idea what you’re doin’?” Tate asks me, biting into a cookie.

“Not a fuckin’ clue.” I walk away and take the stairs two at a time.

I draw a deep breath, letting that sink in. I agreed to date a girl I can’t get along with unless we’re both naked. And they’re right, it’s stupid. So fucking stupid, but that’s it now. It’s done. Choice made.

Jesus—I’m insane, aren’t I?