One Week Girlfriend
Page 6He’s lying, I can tell. I’m so damn good at reading the kid I should be his mother. “You better. I’ll call Wade’s house later tonight to check on you.”
“Gimme a break, Fable. What, you can’t trust me?” He’s whining, sounding like the little brother I remember again. Another sign he’s lying.
“Nope, not when I’m out of town.” My cell beeps, indicating I have a text message and I pull the phone away from my ear to check it real quick.
It’s from Drew. And it’s only one word.
Marshmallow.
Crap.
“Hey, I gotta go, but I’m calling you later tonight and I’m going to talk to Wade’s mother. Make sure you’re okay and doing homework and whatever else you need to do.”
“Fable, that is such bull—”
“Bye.” I hang up before Owen pisses me off more and I immediately text Drew back.
I can’t come rescue you if I don’t know where you are.
My heart is beating way too hard after I send that text. This is the first time Drew used the marshmallow code word and I’m worried about him. Yesterday was all about hanging out at the house. I spent the entire afternoon at the beach when Drew and his dad went and golfed at a course not too far from the house. There are a ton of amazing golf courses there, Drew explained to me, not that I really cared. I think golf’s boring, but I guess Adele went with them though she doesn’t play. She probably chased after them on the golf cart the entire time.
Sunday night dinner had been a study in weirdness. Adele tried to talk to him, constantly asking Drew really personal questions while virtually ignoring me. His dad oblivious to the strange vibe, kept pace with a constant full glass of wine and was slurring his words by the end of the night.
I gladly escaped right after the meal, claiming I was tired from midterms and all those papers I had to write, which was a complete lie since I don’t go to college. Drew pled the same case. We both went back to the guesthouse and to our respective rooms. I’d been so tired I thought I would instantly fall asleep but I didn’t. I laid awake for over an hour, thinking about Drew and the crazy family dynamics he has going on here.
My phone beeps and I glance at the screen.
At a restaurant at Sixth and Ocean. I need to get out of here. I’ll wait outside for you.
Looks like I need to go rescue my fake boyfriend from his overbearing father.
Drew
The moment I see her, I let go of the ball of anxiety rolling around in my chest with a deep, cleansing breath. I wait outside the restaurant, telling Dad I needed to use the phone, when really I just wanted to wait for Fable.
And get away from him.
She’s smiling at me as she approaches, her blonde hair pulled back into a high ponytail, revealing her rounded cheeks, her pert nose and her rosebud lips. The more I look at her, the prettier I think she is. Though not just pretty…
Fable’s hot. Sexy as hell with a fine body that I’ve seen in various stages of undress since we’ve been staying at the guesthouse. I caught her in a towel this morning when she snuck out of the bathroom and darted across the hall into her room. She didn’t even see me.
But I saw her. All that creamy, dewy bared skin on display that made me want to chase after her. Haul her in close and feel her wrap around me. Tangle my fingers into her wet hair and tug, bringing her mouth to mine…
Her.
Wearing skintight jeans and an oversized black sweater, she looks good enough to eat. And I never think like that. Ever. She’s making me think and feel things that are somehow both uncomfortable and freeing.
In other words, Fable leaves me in a constant state of confusion.
“Here I am.” She stops just in front of me, her head coming only to my chest, she’s so short. I could scoop her up, toss her over my shoulder and carry her out of here, no problem. “Ready to rescue you.”
Code word marshmallow hasn’t been used yet, so I’m pleased at how fast she comes to me. Not that my dad is being particularly bad or yelling. He just won’t stop asking me questions about my future. Stuff I can’t answer because I have no clue what’s going to happen.
I finally couldn’t take it anymore and texted marshmallow when I made a bathroom escape.
Now here she was. Ready to whisk me away.
“Thanks for showing up.”
“Is he being hard on you?”
“No, I just…don’t want to answer all of his questions.”
“Oh.” That one single non-word is loaded with all sorts of questions itself. None I can answer either.
“Did you like looking at all the stores?” That’s what girls did. Shop, spend money, though I don’t think Fable really has much to spend. Well, she did if she wanted to blow that money I gave her, but I know she’s saving it to take care of her brother.
The noble barmaid named Fable. Sounds like a story out of a modern fairytale.
“The shops here are way too expensive for my taste.” She wrinkles her nose, which is cute as hell. “I can’t afford to look inside, let alone think about buying anything. I’m not really a shopper anyway.”
So what does she like to do besides hang out at the beach? I know nothing about this girl. What I do know, I don’t much understand. We’re complete and total opposites in pretty much every way.
“What do you like to do then? During your off time?” She stares at me strangely and I feel like an idiot. “You know, like hobbies or whatever.”
She bursts out laughing. “I don’t have time for hobbies. I used to like to read.”
“Used to?”
“I’m too busy.” She shrugs. “Working, taking care of my brother, cleaning up around our place, I always end up totally exhausted and when I fall into bed, I’m already asleep.” Her gaze cuts away from mine.
“Same here.” I keep myself busy on purpose. My class load is heavy, though I have no idea what I want to do with my life beyond football. Hell, I know my coach is mad I didn’t stay around campus so I can practice and that still makes me feel guilty. There’s a big game coming up and I need to be at peak performance.
“Really?” She sounds shocked.
She studies me for a while, her gaze narrowed. Perceptive. As if those dark green eyes can reach directly inside me and examine all my hidden secrets.
I don’t like it.
“There you are.” I turn to see my dad coming out of the restaurant, his irritation obvious. He glances at Fable and his jaw hardens. “I thought we weren’t finished with our conversation,” he says pointedly.
“Oh, I am so sorry, I thought you two were done.” Fable steps right in like a good little girlfriend, slinging her arm through mine and nestling that hot body close. Her br**sts press against my side and she gazes up at me adoringly. “I need Drew’s help. I can’t make up my mind which pair of shoes I want to buy.”
She’s good. Not two minutes ago she’s complaining about how she hates shopping and now she’s the simpering girlfriend who can’t make a shopping decision without my input.
“I assume they’re for tonight then?” Dad asks.
“What’s going on tonight?” Great. I don’t want to put on a show for anyone. Bad enough we have to fake this for my dad and Adele. It’ll feel like the grand performance if we take this public.
“A special early Thanksgiving dinner at the country club. I told you about it the night you arrived.”
No way do I want to go. Sounds like a special sort of hell. “I don’t know…”
“I insist,” Dad interrupts, wearing that expression that says no arguments allowed.
“Sounds fun.” Fable tightens her arm around mine but I hear the tension in her voice. Tonight sounds like a special sort of hell for her too. “What should I wear?”
“Something semi-formal. Cocktail casual.” Dad beams, like he knows he’s making Fable uncomfortable and confused and that’s so f**ked up. “I’m sure you have a pretty dress somewhere in your bag of tricks.”
“Dad.” I’m pissed at the way he talks to her, but how do I stand up to him? I never really have before because shit. He’s my father. He’s all I have in this world.
He ignores me, no surprise. “Adele will want the two of you home by five to ensure we’ll all be ready in plenty of time before we have to leave.” Dad glances at his watch. “I have a meeting with a client in thirty minutes. I’ll see you two later.”
We watch him walk away in silence, Fable still snug at my side until he’s gone. She slowly pulls away and I immediately miss her.
Stupid.
“I have nothing to wear for some fancy cocktail party dinner thing.” She sounds stressed out. “You didn’t tell me to pack anything like that.”
I should’ve. I’m an idiot for forgetting. My plan was so last minute, I forgot all sorts of shit. “I’ll buy you something,” I offer. “Let’s go look around. We have time.”
She shakes her head. “No way. You’ve spent too much money on me already. I’m not about to have you buy me some expensive cocktail dress for a one time only event. I’m not playing Pretty Woman here.”
Funny thing is, we sort of are. I’ve seen the damn movie—who hasn’t? I’m pretty sure Richard Gere’s character paid Julia Roberts AKA the prostitute three thousand dollars for her to pretend to be his girlfriend. Bought her a bunch of clothes too.
The similarities are undeniably there.
I need her to know that not only is she helping me, but I want to help her too. I don’t want her to be uncomfortable. I don’t want my parents to put her down or make her worry she won’t fit in. It’s bad enough we both know she definitely doesn’t fit in.
But I don’t feel like I fit in here either. On the outside I might, but on the inside? Not at all. No one knows the shit I’ve gone through.
I plan on keeping it that way.
* * * *
We find one of those trendy expensive chain stores at the very back of the exclusive outdoor shopping center where I originally dropped her off. Fable’s semi-comfortable there, she knows the store and even though she says it’s expensive, it’s not as bad as most of the other shops that line Ocean Avenue, so I agree.
The place is huge, filled not only with clothes, but also home stuff like bedding, towels, knickknacks and bunch of other pointless bullshit. Fable makes a beeline to rack after rack of dresses and she’s moving frantically, grabbing one after another and slinging them over her arm, the wooden hangers clanking against each other as she walks.
“Hey.” I keep my voice low as I approach her and she pops her head up, her eyes wide. “There’s no fire. We have plenty of time.”
She exhales loudly and shakes her head. “I have no idea what I’m doing. I’m going to need your opinion on this.”
What do I know about cocktail dresses? “I’ll help you,” I offer because I know I should.
“Like you’ll have to lurk around the dressing rooms and actually see me in every dress so you can tell me how I look. I can’t do this alone.” She looks downright frightened. “Thank God they have a bunch of stuff out for the holidays. Hopefully one of these will work.”
“Hi! Can I start a dressing room for you?” The high-pitched voice comes from behind us and we both turn to see who it is. “Drew Callahan, ohmigod, is that you?”
Ah, hell. My worst nightmare has come to life. I went to high school with this chick. Kaylie, I think her name is. Yep, there’s her nametag with Kaylie written on it. “How’s it going,” I offer weakly.
Her smile is so big and bright she almost blinds me. Someone’s been bleaching her teeth way too much. “It’s so good to see you!” She throws herself at me and I have no choice but to embrace her back.
I can feel the curiosity and irritation radiating off Fable as she stands next to me. I offer her an apologetic glance but she rolls her eyes. For whatever reason, this reunion is pissing her off.
“It’s good to see you too,” I tell Kaylie, giving her an awkward hug. She withdraws from me, the giant smile still on her face, her dark eyes sparkling.
“What have you been up to? Well, besides football. You never come around anymore.” Fake pout. “Everyone misses you.”
“Been busy.” I shrug.
“Wow, I guess we don’t rate then. Can’t even make it back to your hometown.” It’s like she’s forgotten all about Fable, the customer she’s supposed to be helping. Instead, Kaylie is focusing all her attention on me. “Can you believe I have to work here? My daddy made me get a job so I can learn what it’s like to live in the real world. Said my ten thousand dollar a month credit card statements were getting totally out of hand.” She laughs.
Fable’s gaping at her. I just gave her three thousand dollars that’ll support her entire family for months and this girl’s acting like spending ten thousand a month on miscellaneous bullshit is no big deal. “Um, you asked if I wanted to start a dressing room?” Fable asks out of nowhere.