Daily update—I just want you to know, I saw the outline of your brother’s dick and I very much want to have s*x with him. But I’m not going to. Aren’t I such a good friend?
STEVIE
If I could have one wish, it’d be that your campsite didn’t have Wi-Fi so I never had to read those words.
Blame your brother for that one too. Only rich people have Wi-Fi while camping.
Gonna go throw my phone against the wall now! Have fun!
I ’m sure there’s a blush covering my cheeks as I head down the stairs to
dinner, and I’m not embarrassed but I am flustered. He blatantly brought up s*x on a night we have to share a bed, and I ran with it.
If we were fucking, they’d know. I’m not very quiet.
What the hell is wrong with me? As if the other night, tangled up on the couch when he rejected me after I hinted that I was ready to move on physically from Alex wasn’t bad enough, here I am, telling him how loud I am in bed.
“Indy.” Annie waves me to the fire that’s roaring in the middle of the campsite. “I’m having a hot toddy. Can I make you one?”
“That sounds great.”
Annie pours from her thermos to a mug before adding some lemon and a cinnamon stick. “I know you’re just pretending,” she whispers for no one else to hear. “But you two look good together.”
I take a sip of my cocktail, warming me from the inside out. “Ryan would look good with just about anybody.”
Annie raises her brows, unimpressed. “Mm-hmm. Whatever you say.” “Where’s your boyfriend?” Ethan calls out as he stands at the grill with
Ron.
“He’s uh…taking care of something.” Subtle. “He’ll be right out.”
“I hope hamburgers sound good tonight.” Ron’s voice drips with pride as he mans the grill with a metal spatula in his hand. “These are going to be a perfect medium-rare.”
“That sounds great,” I lie, hoping there are some sides I’ll be able to munch on. I’m here to make a good impression on Ryan’s boss, not offend him by refusing to eat the dinner he’s so proudly prepared.
Caroline comes out of her tent with a plastic piece of Tupperware, shaking it to show us. “And I hope you like s’mores!”
I don’t know what Ryan’s deal is with Ron Morgan, but he seems nice enough to me. Sure, I’ve only met him twice and he was with his wife both times, but the guy seems like a total softie. Ryan is far more intimidating than him.
Speaking of my fake boyfriend, I hear his car beep in the lot behind me before he emerges with a cooler in his hand. The sun is setting, leaving a slight golden glow to illuminate him and he looks fucking gorgeous in those fitted black jeans. His beanie is a navy knit which does nothing but make his eyes glow strikingly blue.
Good God, Indy. Get it together. It’s a goddamn beanie and jeans.
“Ron, would you mind throwing a few of these on the grill too?” Ryan asks, putting his cooler on the picnic table and fishing out a box of frozen
veggie patties. “Indy is a vegetarian.” He didn’t.
“Oh, I had no idea.” Ron’s voice drips with apology, looking at me.
“It was my fault,” Ryan cuts in. “I should’ve told you. I brought some veggie sausage for her breakfast too. Do you have somewhere to store them?”
“I do!” Caroline bursts, pulling Ryan into their makeshift kitchen where they have a much larger and fancier cooler than his.
“Hmm,” Annie hums. “What?”
“Nothing. Don’t get me wrong. I love Ethan, but my real husband is nowhere near as thoughtful as your fake boyfriend.”
“He’s just trying to convince them that we’re legitimate.”
At that exact moment, Ryan looks over his shoulder, offering me the sweetest smile that man could give.
Annie takes a long drink from her cocktail. “They’re not the only ones he’s convincing.”
 |
In true Ryan fashion, he takes the liberty to wash the dishes after dinner. It’s not quite the same setup he has at home, but a single sponge and a waterspout seem to work just fine for him.
Four tree stumps circle the campfire, acting as seats. Ron, Caroline, and I each take one while Ethan shares his lap with his wife.
“Annie, how are the girls?” I ask while leaning forward to roast a marshmallow over the fire. “Did Gemma’s piano recital go well?”
It might seem like I’m asking to appear close to Annie because any girlfriend of Ryan’s would be friends with his closest teammates’ wife. But the truth is I genuinely like Annie and enjoyed getting to meet her at the fall banquet.
“It did!” Annie adjusts in her husband’s lap. “She got a little case of stage fright in the beginning, but Ethan gave her a pep talk and she was good to go. She did great.”
Ron cuts in. “What did you tell her, Ethan?”
“The usual. How if I have to play basketball in front of thousands of people, she could handle a room of fifty. I also added that the only person she needed to impress was herself. That sort of stuff. Oh, and I bribed her with post-recital ice cream if she got on stage and performed.”
Through the glow of the fire, I can see the smile on Ron’s face. “You’re a good dad.” He turns to me. “What about you two? Any kids in the future?”
My cocktail goes down the wrong pipe, turning me into a sputtering mess, but somehow, I still find the mental wherewithal to pull my marshmallow from the flame before it burns. All while replaying Ron’s question if I’m going to have Ryan’s babies anytime soon.
Annie and Ethan chuckle into each other, finding this entire scenario hilarious.
Ron cocks his head, as if he’s testing me for the answer, quickly reminding me that we’ve yet to fully convince him of our relationship or Ryan’s drastic and sudden change.
“I uh…we…” I stumble.
A blanket settles around my shoulders. “We haven’t talked about it yet,” Ryan says with full honesty. In fact, it might be the most honest thing we’ve said to Ron tonight.
“Settle down, Ronald,” Caroline condemns. “They’re new and young and in love. Let them enjoy it. They’re in the exciting stage, when your bellies fill with butterflies from the prospect of seeing each other. Although, that stage may have already passed for you two since you live together.”
“Well—”
“It’s still like that.” I cut Ryan off, looking up at him over my shoulder. “Very much so.”
Keeping his lips pressed together, he smiles down at me, those freaking dimples concaving with the glow of the fire lighting his face. “Can I sit with you?”
I look to either side of me, but between me and all my winter layers there’s no room left for Ryan on my seat.
He bends down, speaking quietly. “You can sit on my lap, Blue.”
As his girlfriend, of course I would. As his roommate who is forming an unhealthy crush, it’s a terrible idea.
I finish my cocktail for liquid courage and stand with the blanket still wrapped around me, my skewer and sad marshmallow in my hand. Ryan takes a seat, one palm lingering on my hip and guiding me down to sit on his lap. He situates the blanket over me, then pulls me closer, my back flush with his chest and the warmth of his breath lingering on the skin of my neck.
“Good?” he whispers. “Good.”
Good doesn’t do it justice. I’m great. I’m fan-fucking-tastic. This man is huge and warm and these goddamn thighs are pure muscle.
Under the blanket, his hand slides from my hip bone, curving inward, palm covering my thigh. His fingertips slip between my legs, dangerously close to a spot I need them, before he kneads my flesh as if he were holding back from more.
Acting. Fake. Pretend.
But the blanket is covering us, and this little show of restraint is for no one else to see.
There’s a light pounding on my back—his heart rate speeding up and God am I tempted to rock my ass back a touch and see if—
“Indy,” Annie interrupts, holding out the Tupperware. “For your s’mores.”
“Oh. Thank you.” I smile what I’m certain is the guiltiest looking smile she’s ever seen.
Concentrating on roasting my marshmallow, I attempt to ignore the stunning man underneath me. More chatter about kids circulates between the two couples, and I need to join in before I do something impulsive like grind my ass against my roommate to see if he’s still hard from earlier.
Turning towards the Morgans, I ask, “What about you two? Do you have any children?”
Caroline reaches out to squeeze Ron’s hand. “We wanted to,” she says. “But it wasn’t in the cards for us. We have nieces and nephews who we treat as our own though. Ron and I are lucky to each have a handful of siblings, so we still got the family we always wanted.”
I swallow. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Don’t be. Life has a funny way of fulfilling you, even when it isn’t in the way you assumed it’d be.”
Can’t argue there. Lately, life has been anything but what I assumed.
Looking at Caroline, I might be seeing my future self. Although, I don’t know that I’ll be as lucky to have a husband that loves me the way Ron does her. There’s a high chance kids won’t be in the cards for me either, but unfortunately, I’m an only child with no prospects of nieces and nephews to sublimate my need for a family.
There’s always fostering or adoption, and I’m thankful for those possibilities, but I’m not sure how many adoption agencies are going to pick a single woman over a dual parent household.
“Blue.” Ryan lightly shakes my leg, pulling me out of my trance. “Your marshmallow is black.”
“Oh shit.” I pull it from the flame, blowing out the fire it brought with it. Ryan quietly laughs at me but pulls me in closer at the same time.
Typically, I’m the one to carry the conversation. That’s my self-assigned role in our phony relationship, but I can’t seem to come up with something to talk about after what Caroline said.
Ryan takes the cue. “So, we have Houston tomorrow night. Easton’s been on a roll these past couple of weeks. We should think about double teaming him in the back court. Try to break his rhythm.”
Ethan clears his throat, eyes bouncing from Ryan to Ron in warning. “What?”
“We talk enough about basketball during the week, don’t you think?” Ron asks. “We like to keep family dinners to that. Family. We came out here to get away from the city. To have a break for the night.”
Ryan stiffens beneath me, and not in the way I want. We’re here, supposedly showing Ron that Ryan cares about more than just the game he lives and breathes. That he understands relationships and camaraderie are what make a great leader, not just the score at the end of a game. And he just walked into basketball talk without realizing.
“Oh,” Ryan hesitates. “I know. I didn’t—”
“I haven’t seen Ryan play in person yet,” I blurt out, hoping to save him.
“What?” Caroline bursts, lightly smacking her husband on the arm. “Ron, did you hear that? Oh my goodness, you have to! He’s so talented.”
“He is amazing,” I agree.
“Are you in town tomorrow night?” Ron asks. “Caroline and I are missing the game. It’s her brother’s birthday. Our seats are yours if you’d like them. Take a couple of friends and enjoy the game.”
“Really? I’d love to. That’s so generous of you.”
“You better dress up!” Annie cuts in. “Courtside at your man’s game.
You’ll be photographed for sure.” “Can you come sit with me?”
“I wish I could, but I’m officially at the stage of Ethan’s career where the girls are going to sleep in our family box by halftime, and I’m trying to stay awake long enough to finish the game.”
“Damn.” Ethan laughs. “I’ve really lost my appeal, huh? Falling asleep watching me play? Don’t let me keep you up, Ann.”
Annie pats Ethan’s chest. “I don’t.”
The energy has shifted once again, and Ryan’s little slip-up is in the past. As chatter continues, I refocus on my s’more, adding twice as much chocolate as I probably should, but needing it to cover up the fact I burnt my marshmallow to shit.
Ryan rests his chin on my shoulder as I sandwich the graham crackers. “Thank you,” he whispers for no one else to hear. “You saved me out there.”
“We’re a team. I’m here to help you out.” “I like the way that sounds.”
Turning, I smile at him.
“Does that mean the team shares s’mores too?”
I shake my head in disagreement. “They’re reserved for the MVP.” I make a dramatic performance of the giant bite I take right in front of Ryan’s mouth, letting my throat release a low moan in show of how good it is.
“Don’t make those little noises while you’re sitting on my lap.” He grabs my thigh, his lips dangerously close to mine while he speaks. “Otherwise, you’re not going to be able to get up for a while.”
It’s all a show, but goddamn, this version of Ryan is not the same fake boyfriend I went to the fall banquet with. He’s s*xy and confident and comfortable out here. I like it far too much.
“You mean you won’t be able to get up for a while.” “Same thing.”
Turning around in his lap, I swing both of my legs to one side of his, offering him some of my s’more. His lips wrap around it, taking a generous
bite, all the while keeping his ocean eyes penetrating mine.
Wow. It feels claustrophobic in this open air.
A bit of marshmallow falls onto his chin, and without thinking, I wipe it off with my thumb. But before I can clean off the mess, he grabs my hand and takes my finger in his mouth to suck off the remnants.
I’m entirely out of breath when the warmth of his tongue swirls and flicks my thumb, very similarly to how I’d imagine he’d swirl and flick something else.
Acting. Fake. Pretend.
He’s getting good at this fake boyfriend thing, and if I don’t keep reminding my romantic heart of exactly what this is, I’m going to be in trouble.
