“PEARLS OR NO NECKLACE?” I ask Maggie. I step out of my bathroom and hold up the piece of jewelry. “What do you think?”
“I think you look hot. Holy shit, Lacey,” Maggie says. She gapes at me from my kitchen sink and sets down her drink. “Where did you get that dress? I’ve never seen it before.”
“I ordered it online.” I adjust the thin strap on my shoulder and check my reflection. “Does I look alright? It’s not too tight?”
“You look better than alright. My god, woman. I love Aiden with my whole heart, but your hips are sexy. Do a spin, please, so I can admire your ass,” my best friend says, and I laugh.
I twirl around and show off the form-fitting gown. It’s a deep shade of blue, like the summer sky at dusk, and hugs every curve of my body before flaring out at the bottom. I felt beautiful the moment I stepped into it, and I need all the confidence I can muster going into tonight.
It’s been forty-eight hours since I slept with Shawn, and the memory of his mouth on my lips is still there. It hasn’t faded away yet, and I wonder if it ever will. I wonder if it will be an invisible mark I carry with me until the end of time.
“Lacey? Are you okay?” Maggie asks, and I blink out of the trance I’ve fallen into, a memory of his head between my legs and how beautiful his tattoos look under the light of the moon.
“Yeah. Sorry. There’s a lot on my mind with work and the chief physician position,” I say.
It stings to lie to my friend, but I cannot, under any circumstances, tell her what happened in Shawn’s apartment. It’s our secret, something I’ll remember when he rests his palm on the small of my back later tonight. When he hands me a drink and brushes his lips across my cheek like the doting boyfriend he is.
Fake boyfriend.
“No necklace,” she says. “A necklace will take away from the neckline, which is my favorite part of the dress.”
“No necklace it is.” I set the pearls on the kitchen counter and put in my earrings. “I wish you and Aiden could come tonight.”
“I’m sure it would be fun, but we’ve both been busy at work, too. We’re taking the week of Christmas off to visit his family with Maven, so I feel like I’m just trying to hang on until then.” Maggie sits on one of my barstools and swings her legs back and forth. “How’s it been dating Shawn?”
“Pretending to date Shawn,” I say, and I clasp a small silver bracelet around my left wrist. “Good. Nothing’s different from how we are as friends. He’s still kind and thoughtful, and he still brings me magnets. I wish I knew why he was single; he’s the perfect guy. Has Aiden said anything?”
“Not really.” She shrugs and brushes a pile of crumbs into the sink. “I don’t think there’s a story or anything. Maybe Shawn has never felt comfortable around a woman before. I’m sure it’s hard to trust someone as an athlete. You wonder if people like you, or the fame that comes with being associated with you.”
“Oh.” I smooth my hands over my dress and remember how Shawn told me he was picky. I wonder if that’s what he meant. “I never thought about it like that. That’s kind of sad, isn’t it?”
“Of course it’s sad. Shawn protects his heart, and he’s very selective about who he lets in. Hopefully, by dating you, he sees that there are good people out there who like him for him.”
“Pretending to date me,” I say again, and Maggie narrows her eyes. “What? I don’t want anyone to be confused when this ends in a couple of weeks.” My phone buzzes on the counter, and Shawn’s name pops up on the screen. I answer his call and smile. “Hey.”
“Hey. Sorry I’m a few minutes late. It’s snowing again, so traffic is a nightmare. I’m out front, though. Make sure you bring a coat,” he says.
“Will do. Do you want anything from my place?”
“I’m all set. The limo has drinks. It also has snacks, too, in case you get hungry.”
“Limo?” I ask. “Why are you picking me up in a limo? I thought by getting us a car, you meant ordering an Uber.”
“The team sent me one, and it’s the only night of the year I let myself act like I’m wealthy. Plus, we can listen to Christmas music with surround sound.”
“Now you’re speaking my language. I’ll be down in just a few minutes.”
I hang up and grab my black clutch. I shove my phone and lipstick inside and glance up to find Maggie watching me.
“What?” I ask, and I run my fingers through my hair. I curled it earlier, and the soft waves fall to just below my shoulders. “Do I have a stain on my dress?”
“You’re smiling,” she says.
“Why wouldn’t I be smiling? I’m in a good mood.”
“Because Shawn is downstairs?”
“Because I’m going to a fun holiday party with delicious food, a cotton candy machine, and gingerbread cookies made by the best bakery in the city,” I say. “And, yes, Shawn will be there too, but I’m not smiling because of him. Having my friend there is a bonus.”
“Right.” Maggie nods. “Of course.”
“Stop.” I point my finger at her, and she grins. “You’re not allowed to go home and tell Aiden anything.”
“Is there something to tell?”
“Not a damn thing.” I huff and slide my long coat over my shoulders, tying it tight around my waist. “Will you lock up when you leave?”
“I will. Have fun tonight, Lace. You deserve to smile more,” Maggie says. “If Shawn is the one that makes you happy, that’s fine by me.”
“I’m ignoring you,” I say, and her laughter follows me to the elevator.
I head down to the ground floor and shiver when I walk outside. I look up the street, and I spot the black stretch limo parked a half block up. Tucking my hands under my arms, I start my trek down the snow-covered sidewalk.
“Hey.” I hear Shawn’s voice and watch as he jumps out of the car. He jogs toward me in his tuxedo and leather shoes, carefully navigating the wet and sloshy terrain. “Need some help?”
“I did not think this through.” I smile as he offers his hand, and I gladly take it. “Thank you.”
He maneuvers me past a snowbank and into the plowed streets of downtown. My heel gets stuck in a clump of salt, and I wobble on my feet. Before I can topple over and ruin my dress, Shawn lifts me in his arms and carries me bridal-style to the limo.
“I should’ve had the driver pull up closer to your door,” he says. “I’m sorry about that.”
“That’s okay. This is very helpful.”
“I like to be helpful.”
I pat his chest and fix his bowtie. “I know you do.”
When we reach the car, he opens the door and sets me carefully inside. I slide across the seat and bask in the warm leather and dim lighting. You’d never know it was hovering around thirty-one degrees outside while you were in here.
“Want some champagne?” Shawn asks as he sits beside me. He leans forward and pulls out a bottle from a bucket of ice. “It came with the limo.”
“I mean, I feel like we kind of have to, right? It’s too bad we don’t have some caviar too.” I smile as he pours me a drink. “What should we toast to?”
“How about the best fake relationship ever?” He lifts his glass toward me, and I knock it against mine. “The easiest partnership I’ve ever been a part of.”
I take a sip of the drink and the bubbles pop on my tongue. “That’s the fanciest shit I’ve ever had. You probably drink this every night, don’t you? I can see you walking around your apartment, chugging straight from the bottle.”
“Fuck you.” Shawn laughs and elbows my side. I scoot closer to him as the driver heads down the road. “You’ve been in my apartment with me. Have you seen any bottles of champagne lying around?”
“Just because I didn’t see them doesn’t mean they aren’t there,” I tease, and Shawn takes a deep pull from his drink. A drop of alcohol hangs on the corner of his mouth, and I want to lick it away. “Maybe you save it for after hours.”
“You’ve been in my apartment after hours, too,” he says, and his voice is an octave lower than before. Silky smooth, like the bourbon he gave me that night. “We can pretend like it never happened, Lacey, but you can’t expect me to forget about it completely. You haven’t, have you?”
I stare at him with wide eyes, and my hand trembles as I take another sip of the champagne.
I could lie.
I should lie, because being honest goes against the rule of forgetting it ever happened.
Maybe it’s the expensive drink in my hand making my tongue loose or the intimate atmosphere of the limo, but I want to be honest.
I’ve tried really fucking hard to forget about him and how good his hands felt on my body, but I can’t. I can’t, and I hate him for it.
I hate myself more for getting us into this mess in the first place.
“No,” I whisper. I tip the glass back and swallow the rest of the champagne. “I haven’t.”
I wonder if we could be friends who kiss.
Friends who hook up now and then without the big and messy and complex feelings that come with being in a relationship.
Friends with benefits and all the fun stuff like sex.
It would be easy, and we wouldn’t have to worry about there being an end date because we already have an end date in place.
With the way Shawn’s looking at me right now, I want to crawl into his lap. I want to take off my coat and let him touch me. If we weren’t headed to an event where he has to give a speech and we have to smile for the cameras, I’d ask the driver to pull over so I could have my way with the six-foot-six man next to me.
“We said one time.” Shawn glances away and fiddles with his shiny watch. I’ve never seen him wear it before, and the silver looks freshly polished. “We have to stick to that.”
“I know. I can control myself.”
I think.
My eyes flick to the tattoo on the back of his hand, and the confidence I have in myself wavers.
“Good,” he says, and he pours himself another drink. “Because I’m not sure I can.”
“You’re going to have to try, buddy. We can’t make this more complicated.”
“You stained my couch,” he says, and I turn to glare at him. “It was worth the cleaning bill.”
“Oh my god.” I bury my face in my hands. “We really can never talk about this again.”
“Okay.” Shawn laughs. “Want to talk about tonight instead?”
“Please,” I say, because if we don’t, I’m going to ask him what he did with the pair of underwear he kept. “I’m excited.”
“Everyone is excited you’re coming. It’s low key, but we did invite a few members of the media. There will be cameras and reporters. You’re definitely going to get stopped, but it shouldn’t be anything invasive tonight.”
“Am I allowed to say we’re spending Christmas with your family?” I ask. “Or is that an overshare?”
“No, that would be nice. My mom called yesterday and grilled me about you. Where you went to school. Where you did your residency. What some of your hobbies are. Luckily, I knew all the answers, but there’s this small part of me that thinks she knows we’re lying.”
“Then we’ll do a good job of selling how in love we are tonight,” I say. “And at the hospital gala. And then at Christmas. There won’t be any doubt in her mind.”
“Did you ever hear from that guy you were at the game with?” Shawn asks, and a muscle in his jaw twitches with the question. “Did he apologize for leaving and treating you like you were worthless?”
I blush, and hot flashes of that kiss in front of the entire stadium run through my mind. “No. He did an interview with Barstool, though. Talked about how I led him on when I was already dating you. I didn’t read too much into it.”
“Want me to buy the company and kill the story?” he asks, and for half a second, I think he might do just that. “I could hire a hitman, too, if you want to go that route instead.”
“No,” I laugh. “It’s fine. Let’s have a good night together. He’s a distant memory at this point.”
“What was his name? Chad?”
“Matthew.”
“Oh, even better. It all makes sense now.” Shawn nudges my knee with mine. “Fuck him. I’m sorry for bringing him up. How was work today? Has it been busy with the holidays?”
“Everyone tends to get sick when the weather changes, so we’ve seen an uptick in patients. We’re posting an opening for an additional pediatrician, though, thank god. Maybe that will mean I can stop running around and eat three meals a day.”
“I think I’m going to have to have lunch delivered to your office every day from now on. I’m going to sit on the couch and watch you eat. You can’t be skipping meals, Lacey girl. You have to take care of yourself.”
I blow out a breath and wring my hands together. “Sometimes I’m busy taking care of other people, and it’s hard to put myself first,” I admit, and it’s scary to be so honest with him.
“Maybe we can work on that, yeah?” Shawn asks. He touches my cheek, and I nestle into the warmth of his palm. “If your day is busy, let me know. I can easily order you something. I’m going to take care of you, remember?”
“Okay. I can do that,” I whisper.
“Thank you. I know you’re fiercely independent, which is a trait I love about you. You can fight your own demons and slay your own dragons, but I’m here, too. I just want to make sure you’re fed and maybe hold your hand every now and then along the way when the going gets tough, okay?”
I nod, and my eyes sting with tears. “Okay,” I say again, and there’s a heavy pressure in my chest.
I don’t know why his help makes me want to cry, but it does.
I think it’s because accepting help isn’t easy for me, and Shawn is so nice. He’s not overbearing or controlling, and knowing he’s picked me to be the one to take care of makes me feel adored in a way I’ve never been before.
He doesn’t think I’m weak or incapable of doing things on my own. He’s offering a hand to make sure I don’t go under the water for too long, and it’s the kindest thing anyone’s ever done for me.
The car rolls to a stop in front of a hotel with a white facade, and I wipe my eyes. I look out the window and gasp. Christmas trees adorned with lights and decorations line the walkway to the door. Stanchions are set up on the sidewalk, and a small crowd of people wait outside. Some have cameras while others look like fans, bundled up in coats and wearing Titans hats on their heads.
“It’s beautiful,” I say.
“Goddammit Dallas,” Shawn mumbles, and he adjusts his tie. “He was doing a live stream on some app earlier and told his two million followers where the party would be. I’m surprised it isn’t more of a clusterfuck out here. I swear I need to confiscate his phone from him.”
“Guess we better get inside before that happens,” I say. I turn to face him, and I giggle. “Hang on. You have a piece of hair that’s sticking straight up. You can’t go out there looking like that.”
“What?” Shawn pats the top of his head, and my giggle turns into a laugh. “Where?”
“Not there.” I take his hand in mine and brush it over the small strands by his ears. “Here. That’s better.”
“Thanks,” he says, and his gaze meets mine. His fingers wrap around my wrist and his eyes bounce over my face. “Your hair, for the record, looks perfect. You look perfect.”
“Oh.” I exhale softly, and the blush on my face deepens. “Thank you.”
The limo door opens, and the driver holds out his hand. “Mr. Holmes, we’re here,” he says.
It’s for the best we’re getting out of this car, because Shawn is looking at me like he did two nights ago at his apartment; with longing on his face and hunger in his eyes.
We know how that ended.
“Ready?” he asks me.
I nod and climb out of the limo, gratefully accepting the driver’s assistance as my foot lands on the street. Before I can blink, Shawn is around from the other side of the car, and he takes over helping me make my way to the sidewalk.
“Thank you,” I whisper, his hand in mine and his arm around my waist.
Fake, my brain screams. This is all an act.
Then why does it feel so real when he kisses the top of my head and leads me past a group of photographers, ignoring the flashes of their cameras because he’s too busy looking at me?
