Pretend I'm Yours (Pretend 1)

“No.”

“Why not? What else are you going to do tonight?”

I get up and walk over to the large tank of water and fill a paper cup with water before washing it down. I feel his eyes on my ass, and when I turn around, they are on my flattened breasts, squashed beneath the sports bra I’m wearing.

I raise my eyebrows. “Really? You’re checking me out while asking me for help? That’s not going to work.”

He cocks his head and smiles, as he purposefully stares harder at my breasts.

“Just honoring our contract and making sure you hate me. Is it working?”

I toss the empty cup into the trashcan. “Yes.”

“Good, now go shower. You have ten minutes, and we need to leave.”

“I’m not helping you.”

“Yes, you are. I’ve been far too nice to you lately. I need the opportunity to make you mad at me.” He wiggles his eyebrows.

I giggle. Dammit, no.

He chuckles. “See, you like me way too much right now. A night of me bossing you around ought to fix that.”

I sigh. Kade’s right. I need to be angry. And I don’t exactly have anything to do tonight unless you count taking a long bath and icing my entire body all night to make the soreness go away.

“Fine.”

His eyes twinkle at my surrender.

“Good, now shower and put on jeans and a black shirt. You have five minutes until we leave.”

I frown. “I thought I had ten.”

He shrugs. “Four now.”

/> “I hate you,” I say, racing past him to go shower.

“I know.”

12

Kade

Fucking Sebastian.

I’m going to kill him.

That’s all I could think about when I got the phone call from Axel, my best friend, and manager of most of my bars, telling me Sebastian didn’t show up tonight. Sebastian is supposed to be managing this bar. I’m giving him an opportunity to learn before he takes it over from Axel and me. But if he keeps being a no-show, he’ll be lucky if I let him run a lemonade stand.

I throw my arm around Larkyn’s shoulder as I lead her into one of my favorite places in the world. I stare at her face, as hard as it is for me to pull my eyes away from her ass in her skin tight jeans, or her breasts in her black T-shirt. Or the curl that has fallen out of her perfect bun.

Instead, I gaze at her gorgeous makeup-free face. She yelled at me and said she didn’t even have time to put makeup on before I demanded that we leave. But she’s the type of woman I doubt would wear makeup anyway. And I’m glad she’s isn’t wearing any. It shows off her freckles and sun-kissed cheeks.

“Welcome to King's,” I say, opening the door for her. I try to keep my voice level, so she doesn’t realize the importance of the place, and I can get her honest reaction.

We stop just inside, and Larkyn soaks everything in. Her gaze floats around the bubbles of tables scattered throughout the room. The triple high ceiling that makes the bar look more significant than it is. And the booths that sit on the edge of the floors above, giving the perfect view of the dance floor below.

A slow smile spreads on her face, and a twinkle sparks in her eyes.