The Accidental Girlfriend

You know the one. Every woman has The Dress that flatters every part of their body. For me, it was this one. It hugged my boobs like a glove and was fitted to the waist where it flared out all flirty and girly.

It also hid the fluff on my hips, and any dress that could hide the extra few pounds there was a dress you cherished.

At least if you were me. I was pretty sure the cheeseburgers went straight to my hips.

I slipped my feet into nude heels, then checked to make sure that my light-pink lipstick hadn’t smudged.

Thankfully, it hadn’t. I took a few seconds to run the brush through my straight, dark hair one more time, then tucked my lipstick into my clutch purse and headed to the living room.

A check of the time on my phone said Mason was running a few minutes late, and I headed to the kitchen to take a quick swig of wine for courage.

I felt…weird.

I didn’t know how to describe it. This date put a whole new meaning on the idea of a first date, mostly because I had to pretend that I knew the guy whose face I’d never seen.

At some point during the past five days, we’d been casually texting each other, neither one of us had ever thought to ask the other for a picture.

Now, I was regretting it.

Jesus, what if he was ugly? Not that there was anything wrong with it, but I was going to my place of work with him. If he wasn’t attractive, there’d be no getting away from what a disaster it would be.

That was shallow of me. I knew that. I wasn’t exactly proud of it, but I wasn’t going to lie and say that looks didn’t matter to me.

Looks mattered to everyone.

We were biologically inclined to fall in love with and marry and procreate with the person we were most attracted to, and that started with looks.

Again: shallow.

But tell that to biology and evolution, not me. I was just a product of it all.

I was also not a great actress. Seriously. I only participated in one school play, and it’d been a complete disaster. I was not cut out for acting, which brought forth another question about why the hell I was doing this.

I literally had to act the entire night.

Act like I knew Mason.

Act like I was falling for him.

Act like I was attracted to him.

Him being hot was literally the only thing I had to grab onto right now. I needed him to be good looking so that I didn’t have to fake hanging off him or, as I’d said to him in our very first conversation, climbing him like a tree.

Not that I’d do it in public. I wasn’t actually a koala, but hey, it’d made him laugh.

Four knocks at my door made me freeze.

Oh, my God.

He was here.

Swallowing, I smoothed out my dress and approached the door. My hand shook as I reached for the handle and opened the door.

And laid eyes on the most beautiful fucking human being I’d ever seen in my life.

He was a few inches taller than me, even when I was in heels. Muscles filled out the white shirt that was undone at his neck and had the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Light-wash jeans with a rip on each knee hugged his lower body, leading to shiny shoes that peeked out from beneath the bottom of the pants.

He had the thickest dark hair that was swept over to one side; long on top, short on the sides. Dark stubble decorated his chin and jaw, breaking only to reveal full, soft-looking lips that were currently curved up into a small smile.

And the eyes.

Motherfucker, those eyes.

Bright blue. Magnetic. All-consuming.

And they were focused on me, taking me in, from head to toe.

Holy shit, there was a God. And he’d heard my freakin’ prayers because Mason Jackson was surely heaven-sent.

There would be zero problems pretending to climb this man like a tree.

I swallowed. Hard.

“Lauren?” he asked, a twinkle in his eye.

“That’s me. Mason?” I replied, holding out my hand.

He looked at it with a flash of amusement before he took it, gripping it tightly. “That’s me. Sorry I’m late—I got stuck in some traffic in town. Are you ready to go?”

“Yep. Let me grab my purse.” I turned away from him, my eyes widening for a second.

Jesus, he was tall, he was hot, and he shook my hand in a way that said he could grip just about any part of my body and I’d freakin’ love it.

I gripped my clutch and tucked it against my body. Thanks to early summer in Northern Florida, I didn’t need a jacket, so I stepped out into the hall, making sure to lock my door behind me.

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” Mason asked, glancing at me as we waited for the elevator to reach my floor.