Pretend

5a. Kade

Larkyn thinks I’m an ass. She has no idea how amazing I can be as a boyfriend. I’m about to blow her mind.

I’m supposed to meet her at her parent’s house for the graduation party they are throwing for her. Not happening. If I were her boyfriend, I wouldn’t be meeting her anywhere. I would pick her up in one of my fancy cars, and drive her around proudly. So that’s what I’m doing. If I’m going to pretend she’s mine, I’m doing this right.

Shortly after noon, I park the car outside the apartment building she shares with Serena. Thank god I got Serena’s number while waiting for Larkyn to wake up in the hospital. She told me where Larkyn lives, so I’m able to pull this off. I haven’t talked to Larkyn in two weeks, since she woke up in the hospital. My throat feels dry just thinking about what condition she’s going to be in. The last time I saw her, she was beaten up, broken. All I could focus on was her bruises and pain. I can’t imagine that two weeks will have changed much. She may even need crutches or a wheelchair to get around.

I run up the stairs to their floor, holding the flowers in my hand with a smirk on my face. I thought Larkyn would want me to do something horrible to pay her back. Like, perform at a gay strip club. Or dress in drag. Something creative. Instead, when she said she wanted me to claim her as mine, it was like she granted my wish. She gave me an excuse to put my hands on her. To kiss her. Worship her. And I plan on cashing in on that excuse all night long.

I knock on the door with my smug grin, knowing that this simple gesture is sure to earn me big points with Larkyn.

The door opens, and instead of the smile I’m expecting, she frowns.

“What are you doing here? I told you to meet me at my house.”

I roll my eyes. One thing I’m learning about Larkyn is she likes things her way. If she’s going to be mine for the night, she needs to learn to let go, because I like doing things my way. And that includes bringing her flowers and driving her to the party.

I hold out the flowers, and she reluctantly takes the roses, unable to hide her growing smile behind the dark red flowers.

“You’re my girlfriend for the night. If anyone saw us show up separately, the ruse would be ruined before the night even started.”

She sighs. “You’re right.”

I grin. I like her saying I’m right. I finally take in her appearance. Her flawless skin is wrapped in a deep blue sundress that flares out at her hips and gives her just enough cleavage. I might have overdressed a little in my dark grey suit complete with a tie, but it doesn’t matter. I’m sure she wants me as her date to make an ex-boyfriend jealous. Being more dressed up than everyone else will make my job easier.

My smile drops. Her skin is flawless. I don’t see a bruise or a cut. Either she heals quickly, or she’s wearing a ton of makeup. It was hard for me to look at her before when she was in the hospital. Not because the bruises and cuts made her appear ugly, but because they reminded me of my role in her suffering.

I glance down at her hands grasping the flowers, then dart down quickly to the heels on both of her feet. No cast or brace on either. No crutches. No wheelchair. I might believe the bruises healed enough to be covered in makeup in two weeks, but I know there is no way her wrist or ankle healed this quickly. The doctors said it would be weeks or months before the braces could come off, and even then it would be a long road of training and exercises before she was back to her old self.

She takes a step back, motioning me inside, and then curses as her ankle gives out in her heals. I grab her hips, keeping her upright.

“Are you supposed to be wearing heels right now? I thought your doctors said to wear your braces for a few more weeks?”

“She’s supposed to be using her braces. But she’s a stubborn ass that won’t listen to anyone,” Serena says, taking the roses from Larkyn’s hands and storming into the kitchen to put them in a vase.

Larkyn half frowns, half grimaces from the pain. “I’m not going to my graduation party and letting everyone stare at me in the braces.”

I narrow my eyes, not understanding why it would matter if she were wearing her braces or not. Surely, everyone would understand she is still healing from an accident that wasn’t her fault.

“That’s because they would ask questions since you haven’t—” Serena stops when Larkyn shoots daggers her way with her eyes.

I look between the two women, even more confused at what’s going on.

Larkyn continues inside, and I keep my hands on her waist, afraid she is going to hurt herself. It also gives me an excuse to be touching her.

“You should at least wear flats, those heels look dangerous,” I say, staring at the high spikes on her feet.

Larkyn glares at me with a growl that tells me to shut the hell up.

I grin. I like that look.

“No, she should wear her braces,” Serena says.

“Will you two stop? It’s my choice. I feel fine. I’m not used to walking in heels, but after wearing them a few more minutes, I’ll be used to them.” She shakes my hands off her body as she storms over to the kitchen to pick up her purse and throw the strap over her head to cross her body. Her purse is a light tan color, not flashy, like Larkyn.

She stomps past me, without a word to Serena or me, merely an evil glare.

“Have fun!” Serena shouts from the kitchen. Then she looks at me. “Don’t keep your hands off her. Larkyn’s stubborn. She won’t tell you she’s in pain and she is in agony since she stopped taking her pain medications almost immediately after she got home. And she couldn’t walk in heels before; she definitely can’t now.”

My eyes turn to the sassy woman strutting out of the apartment, her ass swaying making her flowy dress swoosh side to side as she walks. I much prefer the dress she was wearing the other night that hugged her body a little too snugly. This one makes her look as innocent as she is. This one will force me to behave like a gentleman, instead of the cocky bastard, I want to be.

“Don’t worry, I won’t be able to keep my hands off her,” I say, winking at Serena who is smiling, amused.

Shit. I may have just given her the wrong impression about what my intentions are with Larkyn. I won’t f**k her. I won’t hurt her. I’m paying back my debt to her, that’s it.

I need to talk to Serena on her own and explain things. And also receive some advice on how to convince Larkyn to take my money.

I chase after Larkyn as she reaches the stairs. Of course, she decided to skip taking the elevator. She’s a wreck walking on a flat surface. I can’t imagine how she is on the stairs.

I reach her as she is taking her first step down and hold out my elbow to her, like I’m escorting her down the stairs at some grand ball.

“What are you doing?” she asks, her body tense as if she might slug me.

“I’m being a good date. Now shut up and stop asking me that.”

“You don’t have to pretend until we arrive at the party. For now, can’t we just be us? Friendly toward each other and nothing more?”

“No.”

I grab her hand and place it on mine. I only get one day with her. I’m not wasting a second of it being friendly toward her.

She sighs but lets me help her down the stairs under the illusion I’m doing this because I’m pretending she’s my date, instead of it being necessary to ensure she doesn’t hurt herself.

I lead her to my McLaren, and she smirks when it comes into view.

“You couldn’t pick me up in something nicer than this piece of trash?” she asks teasingly.

I smile. “Sorry, next time I’ll pick you up in my horse and carriage, princess.”

That earns me a smile, and I never want her to stop smiling. The smile reaches her deep eyes and makes the blonde in her hair shine. Her cheeks blush enough to be noticeable, but not so much that she appears embarrassed. Just happy. I haven’t seen this look on her. I like it.

I open the door and help her inside, hating that I have to drop her warm hand to run around to the driver’s side. I hop in quickly and throw my arm around her shoulders as I start driving toward the address she texted me to meet her at.

Her body tenses when I throw my arm over her shoulders. But she doesn’t say anything. Maybe she’ll finally give up, and try to enjoy herself a little. She might like being mine if she let herself benefit from the perks.

Her fingers fidget with the hem of her dress as I turn on the highway. I swear I hear her heartbeat speed to hummingbird levels. Her breathing catches in her throat. And her face turns pale white.

“What’s wro—s**t,” I curse when I realize what’s wrong. This is the same highway where my i***t brother ran her over and almost killed her.

I turn off at the next exit, almost running over a minivan, as she squeezes her eyes shut and grabs for anything to brace herself with. She finds my hand. And she grips it, as if she were to let go, she’d float away and get sucked up by a black hole.

My hand hurts like a b***h, but there is no way I would ever let her stop holding it. Never. I want her tiny hand gripping mine. I would take this over any of my usual daily activities in a heartbeat.

I pull the car over to the side of the road as she takes several deep breaths and stares out the windshield. Her grip slowly loosens, but I tighten my hand around hers, letting her know I’m not going anywhere.

Seconds pass. Or minutes. I don’t know.

But finally, she turns her attention from staring at the field in front of us to me. Her big eyes are swollen as if she might cry, but won’t let herself.

“I didn’t realize how much driving on that road would affect me.”

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking. I should have driven a different route.”

She shakes her head. “I would have said you were crazy for taking a longer route when this was the most direct way. I’m stubborn like that. You would have driven on the highway, and only then would I have realized my mistake. I’m glad I was with someone the first time, instead of driving myself when the panic attack hit.”

I grin, and reach over to her body, pulling her into my arms so I can hug her. She lets me. Exhaling another breath, this one goes deeper than her previous breaths, now that I’m holding her.

She gently leans back in her seat, and I reluctantly lean back in mine. But I still hold her hand, dammit. I’m not letting go.

“I’m better now. We should go if we want to make it to the party on time,” she says, her voice steady.

I nod and start driving. “You’re going to have to give me directions. I don’t know how to go anyway but the highway.”

“Keep going straight. I’ll tell you when to turn.”

I do as she says, and the silence stretches out between us. It’s not uncomfortable, but I don’t want her thinking too much about what just happened.

“Tell me about yourself,” I say.

She raises an eyebrow and makes a face like that’s the worst thing I’ve ever suggested.

I laugh and bring her hand to my lips and kiss the top of it without thinking.

Her teeth rake over her bottom lip as she tries to pretend she didn’t enjoy the simple kiss on her hand. But she did. She shivered when my lips touched her skin.

“I should know something about you if I’m going to pretend I’m your boyfriend for the day. What if someone asks me what your favorite food is or if you prefer red or white wine and I don’t know the answer?”

She scrunches her face as she thinks a moment. “I rarely drink, but usually red wine, I guess, if I was going to choose. I don’t have a favorite food either, and trust me, no one will ask. The basics are I go to UC Santa Barbara, and I’m graduating in two weeks with a business degree with a minor in finance. My best friend is Serena. I’ve lived with her all four years of college. We moved into the apartment last year. I love running. That’s what I spend most of my time doing. And I teach yoga classes at the YMCA. And I don’t bring guys home ever. So be ready for everyone to be shocked as hell at the sight of you.”

She eyes me brightly with a goofy smile.

I blink rapidly, trying to take everything in. Except, all I can focus is on one thing. “How can you not have a favorite food? It’s not possible. My favorite things are s*x and pizza. Preferably together, but I’ll take them separately.”

She bursts into laughter. Most of the women I’ve dated, I’ve hated their laughs. Not Larkyn’s, though. I love her laugh. It’s not too high-pitched. It’s not pretty either. She doesn’t laugh while trying to bat her eyelashes at me or hide some of it to keep it feminine. Her laugh is deep and glorious.

“Sorry, I’m just imagining Harlow with cheese and marinara all over her body. And her annoyed face when some of the sauce reached into her hair. It made my day to think of her like that.”

I narrow my eyes, amused at her. “How do you know Harlow?”

Her laughter stops, and her cheeks blush. “I may have looked you up. I thought the same thing; that I should know something about you if I was going to pretend you’re my boyfriend. Harlow was in a lot of the pictures I found. Unfortunately, I didn’t know much about you before that night, only Sebastian.”

My heart hurts, and my throat growls.

Her eyes widen and stare at my neck.

I don’t know why I growled, but I hate that she thought of my brother, and not me.

Her face changes. It lights up like the sun outside, whizzing by over the rolling hills. We haven’t passed any houses or towns in a while. Hopefully, she’s not taking me somewhere where she can push me off a cliff.

“Don’t worry, I don’t think you have to worry about me thinking about Sebastian like that ever again,” she winks.

I sigh and try to forget about my brother. “So you think you know everything you need to know about me?”

She grins. “You graduated from Stanford four years ago. You own several businesses. Real estate, whiskey line, but your love is the bars you own. You’ve dated, but don’t seem to have a steady girlfriend. You’re one of LA’s sexiest bachelors according to the article with an accompanying naked picture.” She wiggles her eyebrows.

I chuckle. “They didn’t ask my permission to use that photograph!”

She laughs. “Why did a photograph exist where you were completely naked on a bed except for the sheets draped over your crotch?”

“I guess you don’t know everything about me then.”

She blushes, and her eyes alight like it’s a challenge to figure out why I have the picture. If she figures it out, she won’t like the answer. A woman took it after I slept with her. She just happened to be a photographer and sold it to the magazine. I didn’t bother fighting it since it gave me and the business good press.

“What else do you know?”

“I know that the town loves you. You’re a King. Your father left you an empire, and your mother left you when you were a kid. I know you have at least six cars and three homes across California.”

“What about the important stuff? Like favorite food, drink, and s*x position?”

That last part earns me a scowl, and she’s as beautiful scowling as she is smiling. “Pizza apparently, scotch or whiskey I’d guess, but you’ll be served neither at the party. My father’s too cheap to serve anything like that. And s*x position is any, as long as the woman is covered in marinara sauce.”

I smirk and bring her hand to my lips again to kiss her.

This time she doesn’t hide her smile. She reaches with her other hand to turn on the radio, and it blares a country love song. She raises her eyebrows. “Really?”

I shrug. “I happen to like a good country ballad.”

She turns the volume down. “Even this cheesy romantic crap about doing anything to win a girl back and driving down a country road in your truck?” She pauses. “You don’t own a truck, do you?”

I chuckle. “I don’t own a truck. And yes, I happen to like the cheesy shit.”

I turn the volume back up and start belting along with Kenny Chesney.

She shakes her head like I’m crazy. I never ask her what music she likes, but I plan on finding out. Just like I plan on letting her know I like a lot more than cheesy love songs. I happen to like all things romantic. Romance is sweet; it’s just not real.