Page 23 of Bleacher Report
I let out a breath, knowing I can’t keep this from her. “It’s fake, Abs. The whole thing. We made everyone believe we’re dating to keep his ex away from him, and in return, he’s helping me with my podcast syndication deal.”
“You’re lying. That kiss was toe-curling good. There’s no way that was fake.”
A laugh slips out before I can stop it. Once I got past the shock, I’ll admit—Hunter Reed is a damn good kisser, even when it’s staged.
“Sorry to ruin the fantasy, but yeah. Totally fake.”
“And the auction?”
“He paid for it. I was the bidder, but it was his money. He just didn’t want her to win.”
There’s a pause on her end, followed by a dramatic sigh. “This is incredibly disappointing, by the way. Here I was, living vicariously through you while Will’s still overseas, and you just kicked my hockey romance dreams to the curb. You should’ve lied to me.”
I know she’s teasing. She would have killed me if she knew that I waited two months to tell her that it was all fake. She’ll thank me later.
“I have good news, though,” I tell her.
“You know how I love good news, and you owe me after that big letdown.”
“Well, this one, you’re going to really love, because as part of our arrangement, Hunter is going to do Jesse’s career day.”
Abby squeals through my cell phone speaker. “Are you serious? Is he really going to do it? Because if this is fake too, I’ll kill you. I've worked as an ER nurse long enough to know how to make it look like an accident—trust me.”
“God…that was dark. But no, this one isn’t fake. He asked me what my terms were for fake dating and him moving in for two months and—”
“Whoa, whoa, hold on just a damn minute. Did you just say he’s moving in…with you? Like sleeping under the same roof in your one-bedroom apartment?”
“It’s two bedrooms actually,” I remind her.
“Yes, but the second bedroom you converted into a recording studio, which means you have to share a bedroom.”
Oh wait… I hadn’t thought about that. About sharing a bed. I just thought about not having to pay my mortgage for the nexttwo months to help recoup my savings and I didn’t consider much else.
Not that he gave me a whole lot of time to think through the logistics before the auction started.
Everything happened so fast.
“I didn’t think about that. I’m sure he’ll be fine on the couch,” I say, shifting the phone to my other ear as I pace the kitchen.
There’s a beat of silence, and then Abby’s voice comes through, dry and skeptical. “Right. Because every hot guy wants to sleep on a couch while his fake girlfriend is tucked away in the next room.”
I roll my eyes even though she can’t see me. “It’s not like that. We can barely tolerate each other. He’s only staying here because his ex moved into his building and—”
“Oh my God,” she cuts in, practically squealing. “Hate sex. This has all the makings of top-tier hate sex. I knew it. You’re going to fuck this man silly. Finally. Now we’re getting somewhere good.”
“I’m hanging up now,” I mutter, but my face is already on fire.
“You love me.”
“Unfortunately. But I’m serious Abs…no one’s fucking anyone silly.”
“Oh, how cute. You’re in denial. Your brother always told me he thought that you were a little naïve and I always stood up for you, but now I’m seeing the light.”
I hear the sound of her repacking her lunch pail in the breakroom. “Shut up, I’m not in denial. It’s just that keeping things clean and straightforward is going to be the best for everyone.”
She snorts. “Clean and straightforward? With him? That man looks like the definition of a complication.”
Before I can fire back, the hospital intercom blares through the line—paging Nurse Collins.
