The Fake Girlfriend Rules

It's getting harder and harder to remember why I fought so hard to ignore what I want. I can't pretend that the thoughts haven't always been there, and the dreams were just a lie of what I can never have.

Why can't I have both? Why can't we give in to what we feel, and still keep the unspoken boundaries we've established over the years?

We can be friends. We can even be friends with benefits. Lust is just lust. Two people can share each other and still maintain the baseline. It doesn't have to be complicated. We don't have to think more about it than what it is.

It's like wanting dessert and denying yourself. Starving yourself just leads to binge eating. Why torture yourself at all?

Lyllian and I are mature adults who know how to keep feelings out of this. There's nothing wrong with giving in occasionally, so you can have your cake and eat it too. Just eat the damn cupcake.

Friends can be friends.

Sex can be sex. . .

Until it can't.

7

Lyllian

“Wish me luck,” I say as my fingers dangle in his.

“I'll do you one better than that.” Doug leans in, giving me a deep and passionate kiss. “You've got this, just be yourself,” he says.

I wish I was as confident in myself as he is in me. It's hard to see your own value. I've never been good at it. But Doug has always been good at making me feel worthy of what I deserve.

The butterflies I feel turn into a swarm as I stand outside the conference room door. Hesitantly, I knock softly on the open door as I peer inside.

Eileen lifts her head up from the long, mahogany table, and gives me the same smile she gave me last night. I didn't expect this. I guess inside I thought work Eileen would be ruthless as a bear, and stern as a queen ruling over her kingdom.

“Oh, you're here!” she calls out as her small, frail, seventy-year-old frame jumps up from her seat. She clasps her hands in front of her chest, her smile broadening. “I wasn't sure how you were going to feel about this. How do you feel, dear?”

“Honestly?”

“I wouldn't want to hear anything else.”

“Nervous but excited.”

“Those are the best feelings to have. Your nerves will keep you on your toes, but your excitement will keep you driven to excel and rise above.” She gives me another warm smile, then waves her arm toward the table. “Come take a seat, I don't want to leave you wondering what you're even interviewing for.”

“Yeah, I think that'd be good to know. I appreciate this though, I really do.”

She shakes her head as she cleans up the area in front of her. “Well, you made a great impression last night, and I just left thinking I had to have you on my team. But nothing is set in stone, even if I like you as a person. I still need to make sure you'll be a good fit.”

“Of course, I'd expect nothing less.”

“Good, let's get started, shall we?”

“Well?” he asks as I come out of the interview.

His eyes are big as the moon, pupils black as night. He looks more nervous than I did before I went into the interview. There's impatience in his tone as he tilts his head and rolls a single finger for me to spit it out already before he goes nuts.

My lips are thin, and I have no expression on my face. Folding my mouth down, I shrug a limp shoulder. As I exhale a slow, defeated breath, I say, “Well—”

“Oh no, did it not go good?” he asks, cutting me off. His eyes turn from worry into sadness. He takes a step in, cupping my elbows with his hands, and softly caressing me with his thumbs. “I'm so sorry, Lyl. I really thought you had this in the bag.”

“Yeah, well, you should be sorry, because now you'll have to see me the entire time you're working on Eileen's movie.”

“Wait, you got the job?” he asks, arching a high brow.

I nod excitedly. “I got the job!”

He gives me a playful push and turns away from me. “You suck, you really had me going. I honestly thought you didn't get it.”

“I know, I got you good.” I bite my tongue and smile.

Doug lunges at me and starts to tickle my ribs. “I can't believe you did that. I can't believe you let me think you didn't get it. Is it still funny? Huh? Still think you're a comedian now?”

I'm laughing hard, trying to block him and push him away. “Stop! No more!” I call out between laughs. “Mercy, mercy,” I say, attempting to back away as I swat wildly at his hands.

“Say I win.”

“What? No way. What are you, twelve?”

“Say it. Say I win.” He keeps digging his fingertips into my ribs, making it hard to breathe.