Page 19 of The Fantasy League
Regardless, I was hopeful that Scarlett would give me a shot to show her my true self. Not the asshole of a boss she probably thought I was. I knew that if she gave me a chance, she wouldn’t fucking regret it.
I’d make damn sure of that.
I pulled the SUV into the driveway and the tires slowed to a halt. Grabbing my bag from the passenger seat, I made my way into the house, silently hoping that Mom was right and that the cards would play out in my favor.
* * *
“If,and that is a very big if,” Scarlett started. “I agree to do this, we need to set some ground rules.” She waved her giant spatula at my face before swiveling around to turn back to the stove where she was making breakfast.
The jeans she wore hugged the curve of her ass tightly and my mind drifted to all the positions I wanted to put her in. Doggy. Reverse cowgirl. Missionary, so I could see her face. Every fucking position in theKama Sutra.
I shook my head and pulled myself back into our discussion. “What kind of ground rules?” I arched a brow in question.
I wasn’t exactly sure what stipulations were involved in a fake relationship, so I didn’t account for “ground rules” in the scenarios I had played out on my car ride earlier.
Fuck, if I was being honest, I hadn’t exactly accounted for anything. It’s not every day that you get tasked with finding a fake girlfriend. I silently cursed Coach and the Matrix for putting me in this situation to begin with.
Scarlett glanced at me over her shoulder. “Yeah. If we’re going to pretend that we are a couple we need to have boundaries. If we’re both on the same page with whatever this”—she waved her spatula between the two of us—“is, it will make people less likely to question us.”
The girl had a point. “Okay… what do you have in mind?”
Scarlett turned back to face the stove and worked her spatula around the pan. The delicious smell of cinnamon pancakes filled the kitchen. Her gaze dropped down to the pan once again.
“If we’re going to be in a fake relationship, I’m not going to date anyone else. I don’t expect you to stop seeing other people, but if you’re going to hook up with other women, just um… be discreet about it. You know?” She sucked in a breath after her words tumbled out faster than I could comprehend them.
Her eyes met mine timidly as she peered over her shoulder once again to gauge my reaction.
“No,” I said firmly, my jaw clenched. My fingers wrapped tightly around the fork in my right hand.
“No?” Her eyes shot up to meet mine as she finally turned her body toward me. Her cheeks reddened to the color of her name.
“No, Red. I’m not going to see anyone else.” I blew out a long, slow sigh, letting out a heavy breath, releasing some of the tension that had been building in my shoulders. Though the grip on my fork remained secure. “I wouldneverdo that to you,” I mumbled under my breath as she handed my plate to me.
Not that I was sleeping around anyway. Fuck, I couldn’t even remember the last time I got laid. But even if I was fucking around, I still wouldn’t do that to her. I wouldn’t risk embarrassing her with a scandal like that, especially when her career was taking off.
I liked this rule though. I hadn’t seen any men over at her pool house before, but I didn’t want any other guys touching her. Especially if she was going to be mine.
Well, pretending to be mine.
Fuck, I hated that.
“Oh, um, okay then. If that’s what you want.” She expelled a breath before turning back to face the stove yet again. “So, we’re not seeing other people. Yup, got it…” She trailed off, moving her spatula around the empty pan. She must have forgotten that she’d already handed me the plate with my food on it.
“That’s what I want. Any other rules?” I said firmly, scooping a giant bite of fluffy cinnamon pancake into my mouth.
“Yes,” she replied curtly, although she appeared to be struggling to come up with another ground rule. I watched as she twirled the small emerald-green ring on her middle finger around and around. “No kissing,” she blurted out as I took another massive heap of pancake into my mouth.
Seemed a bit juvenile being that I was two years shy of thirty, but whatever made her comfortable. Or so I thought until she added an addendum, “Oh, and no sex.”
My eyes grew wide and I pressed a fist to my mouth to suppress the cough that expelled from my lungs. A giant bite of pancake stuck in my windpipe, making it hard to breathe.
She thought I wanted to fuck her? Okay. Fine. I wanted to fuck her, but not under these circumstances.
Holy fuck.
“What did you just say?” I managed to croak out my words between coughs.
“Uhh, no kissing… and no sex,” she confirmed, shrinking back into herself a bit.
