Four Day Fling

“I’d love a drink, thanks, Avery. Do you mind if I use your bathroom? Training’s going good. Thanks for asking,” I said dryly.

She snorted. “Good to know. Kitchen’s right there. Well, are you?”

“It’s not that simple and you know it.”

“Actually. I think you’re both complicating it beyond belief,” she said quietly. “But that’s just my opinion, and opinions are like assholes. Everybody has one.”

“And some people speak with theirs,” I added.

“Nailed it.” She winked. She stood up and went to the hall and banged on a door. “Poppy! Hurry up! You’re gonna be late!”

“If my mother expects me to be on time she’s a damn idiot!” she yelled through the door.

“She’s a little tense,” Avery whispered.

Something slammed on a door. “You are a bad whisperer and a terrible friend. Go to work, you heathen!”

I paused, trying not to laugh.

“Fine! I’m going!” Avery pounded on the door with a fist. “But your fake boyfriend is out here looking like a bar of chocolate during shark week—”

What the?

“—So you get your ass out here before I drag him to a street corner and start soliciting his services to the ladies to bump my bank account!” Avery winked at me.

“I swear to God—” Poppy snapped.

Avery grabbed her purse and stopped at the door. In an extra loud voice, she said, “You guys have fun! I’m working ‘til one tonight, but Adam, I want her home by midnight, you hear?”

“You got it.” It was so fucking hard not to laugh.

“And if you’re still here tomorrow morning, I hear you make a mean omelet.” She grinned, opening the door. “There are eggs, bacon, and mushrooms in the fridge. I won’t be mad waking up to your fine ass making me breakfast in bed.”

“Avery!”

“And now I’m leaving,” she said with one final smile my way.

I rubbed my hand down my face, laughing.

Holy shit, Avery knew how to piss her off.

I sat back in the chair and waited for Poppy to come out. She was taking her sweet-ass time, and one glance at my watch told me we were going to be late.

Just as I settled in to watch TV, a door opened on the other side of the apartment. I turned my head in that direction, and Poppy stepped out into my view.

The black dress she wore hugged her figure to perfection, even as she muttered to herself and flattened it out across his hips. Her hair hung around her shoulders in her signature loose curls, and the hot-pink lipstick that coated her lips made me want to kiss her so fucking bad.

She stopped, looking up when she caught me staring at her. “You want a picture?”

“Yeah, actually.” I smiled at her. “Got a problem with that?”

She blushed, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Let’s go before I get my ass kicked. And, if we’re late, it’s traffic.” She grabbed a purse off the kitchen table that was covered in painting things and shoved her phone in it. “Let’s go.”

“Hang on.” I turned off the TV by the remote and got up, intercepting her before she reached the door. “I’m officially your fake boyfriend again, which means I get to do this.”

Cupping the back of her neck, I kissed her. She melted into me, her hands instantly going to the sides of my shirt, and that told me all I needed—all I wanted—to know.

I wasn’t the only one with feelings.

“Now we can go,” I whispered against her lips.

Her throat bobbed, and she nodded. “Let’s go.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR – POPPY

Questions and Absolutely No Answers

Adam locked the car in the parking lot of the restaurant and immediately drew me into him. His arm snaked easily around my waist, and I tucked into his side as if I’d never left it.

It annoyed me how easy it was. How easy the kiss in the apartment had been. How right it felt to get into his car with him holding the door. How goddamn perfect it felt to be nestled into his side without a care in the world.

Except for my parents being inside, that was.

We were lead right to our table. Somewhere between the hostess’ stand and the table, Adam had slipped his fingers through mine, and we moved so fluidly together.

That scared me. It was oh-so-natural, and while I was slowly accepting my feelings for him, I’d never really believed he felt anything serious for me.

The ease with which he accepted being my boyfriend yet again hit me hard.

He’d told me in Key West that pretending to be my boyfriend was the easiest thing he’d ever done.

Was that still true?

Because fuck me sideways with a suitcase, pretending to be Poppy, Adam’s girlfriend, was so fucking easy it was scary.

Mom and Dad were sitting at the table as we approached. The greeting was easy and simple—hugs, kisses, handshakes. We all took our seats and Dad poured us all a glass of wine, which Adam rejected since he was driving.