Faking with Benefits : Chapter 11

“You know what my problem is?” I ask, half an hour later. After a glass of wine and some aggressive cuddling from Zack, I’m feeling a lot more relaxed. Tucked between my two best friends under the dim red light of the bar, I feel warm and safe. Safe enough to talk about things I’ve never spoken about before. “I am too defensive with men,” I admit. “I don’t trust guys when they flirt with me. I don’t trust them when they show interest in me, or touch me, or try to get me in bed. It makes me angry to be flirted with. It makes me want to run away. I just hate every part of it.”

“Okay,” Josh says slowly, running his finger over my hand. My skin tingles as he absentmindedly strokes the inside of my wrist. “Why?”

I consider, leaning against his side. His cool, minty scent drifts into my lungs, calming me. “I can’t believe that they actually care about me. I always feel like they just want to use me.”

Josh stills. “Why? Has that happened to you before?”

I hesitate, then shake my head. “Nope. Never had a boyfriend, remember?” His laser eyes burn into mine, like he can see the lie in my face. I turn back to my drink. “I don’t know why I think that way. But whenever a guy flirts with me, I just freeze up. It happens every time.”

“Okay.” Josh pulls away from me, straightening. “Let’s practice. I’m sure you just need to get more comfortable.”

I perk up. “Really?”

“Really. Let’s do some role play. Imagine you saw me at a bar and wanted to hit on me. Zack will watch and give you pointers.”

“Okay. Good idea.” I stand up.

“Wait!” Zack says, grabbing my hand. “Don’t forget your costume.”

I squint at him. “What?”

He nods at the front of my jacket. “We’re doing a bar date role play. So go on. Get your tits out.”

I stare at him for a second. He grins back. I pluck an ice cube out of my water glass, grab his collar, and drop it down his back.

He yowls, his body arching as he tries to shake it out of his clothes. “Jesus! No need to attack me! I’m just trying to make it realistic!”

“You’re such a knob,” I say, trying not to smile as he finally bats away the ice cube. “Get into position, then.” I shuffle out of the booth.

“Nerd,” Zack mutters under his breath, as Josh turns back to his drink. I take a few steps back, fluff up my hair, and then brace myself, walking back up to the table.

“Hi,” I say, a bit too loudly. Josh looks up. Immediately, his eyes fix on me, flicking down my front. My pulse starts to beat a little harder in my throat.

“Hi,” he says softly. “Can I help you with something?”

His voice sounds different. Warmer and deeper. Is this what he sounds like when he’s flirting? My cheeks immediately heat.

“Are you… um, here alone tonight?” I manage.

He leans back in his seat, considering me. “Currently.”

“That’s pretty embarrassing.”

“I know. I’m mortified. Save me from the shame and let me buy you a drink.”

“Like a date?” I ask, then immediately curse myself. I sound like a middle-schooler talking to her crush.

Josh looks amused. “If you like.” He taps the leather booth next to him. “C’mon. Save me from a night of drinking alone.”

I sit, then hesitate, floundering for something to say. “I, um…”

“Just be honest,” Zack advises quietly. “You’re thinking too hard. Say whatever comes into your head.”

“Well, I have to warn you,” I tell Josh, “It might be a waste of your time. I’ve been on 120 first dates. They’ve never worked out.”

Josh shifts his weight. I suddenly realise how big he is. His body takes up most of the booth. He stretches his arm across the back of the seat and studies me. “You must be tired,” he murmurs. “All those first dates. Don’t worry. Mine can be your last.”

I crack a smile. “Smooth.”

“Stay in character,” he orders.

“Right.” I clear my throat. “I’m Layla.” I stick out my hand.

His eyebrow twitches. “How formal.” He shakes my hand firmly. “Joshua.”

I nod. “Well, Joshua. What makes you think you can do better than the 120 men who came before you?”

Josh shrugs a shoulder, his eyes not leaving mine. “I’m a hard worker.”

“You say that now, but I’m a pretty difficult girlfriend. I’m not sure you could handle me.”

Josh’s eyes spark. “I bet we have more in common than you think.”

“Doubt it.”

“Try me.”

I narrow my eyes. Well. Zack did tell me to be honest. “I’m a workaholic.”

“Me, too,” Josh counters.

“I’ve never had a boyfriend.”

“Me, neither.”

I snort. “I’ve been told that I’m high-maintenance.”

“I’d do whatever you wanted me to,” he says softly, and his low voice suddenly sounds so dirty that my insides clench. Jesus.

“How are you still single?” I blurt out. It is ridiculous that a man this hot hasn’t found a partner.

Something odd flickers over his expression. “I’m saving myself for you,” he informs me drily, leaning back in his seat. “Obviously.”

I have a feeling I’ve said something wrong, but I don’t know what. I can’t think straight. I’m starting to sweat under my leather jacket. Fumbling for the zip, I shrug it off, letting the cool air of the pub wash over my overheated skin.

Immediately, Josh’s eyes fix on the strap of my bra slipping out from my shirt. His Adam’s apple jerks. “I like this,” he says quietly, lifting his hand to touch the pink ribbon. His fingertip skims over my collarbone, making me shiver.

“Thanks. I made it myself.”

“Is that what you do?” He curls his finger in the loop of the tiny bow peeking out on my shoulder. Tingles cascade over my skin. Goosebumps pop up all over me. “You make clothes? I have a wedding coming up that I need a shirt for. Maybe I should come to you.”

“I design underwear, so no shirts, I’m afraid. Although I do have a beaded corset that you would look lovely in.”

Zack flashes me a thumbs-up.

Josh smiles, still focussed on the ribbon. “You’re like a present.” He says lowly, giving it the tiniest little tug. “Makes me want to unwrap you.”

My heart stammers. Heat flushes through me. Luckily, before I have to say anything, a man walking towards the bar pauses by our table. Josh glances up at him, his face suddenly darkening. I stiffen as he winds an arm around my shoulders and tugs me into his chest, hiding me against his front.

“Fuck off,” he says over my head. I hear footsteps retreating.

“Wow,” I say, smushed into his shirt. “Joshua. This is indecent. We just met.”

He gently removes me from his front, his hand stroking down my back. I’m breathing hard. “Sorry. Some prick with a Rolex was looking down your top.” He picks up my jacket and wraps it back around my shoulders. “Let’s gift-wrap you again.”

“A Rolex?” I tease as he tugs the zip up to my chin. “Ooh. A rich man. Maybe I should go flirt with him instead.”

He stiffens, his hand still on my throat. “Don’t. I’ll end the night in a jail cell.”

I’m pretty sure he’s joking, but his voice is so rough it makes my insides jump. “A-are we exclusive, then? I can only practice flirting with you?”

He lowers his hand. “That’s up to you,” he says quietly. “This is only our first date, right?” His eyes meet mine, hot and dark. “If you were mine, I’d want you all to myself.”

My stomach drops like I’m on a rollercoaster. I open my mouth to respond — and my mind goes completely blank.