Page 28 of Fake Love

Sure, it’s in a year, but I’ll take it.

“So, you weren’t hiring me because I call you Hunty?” I ask.

A growl sounds through the other end and I just know he’s infuriated with my use of the name.

He can’t blame me. It’s not my fault his ex-girlfriend gave him a stupid nickname and Selena told me about it.

“As much as I wish it was, no.”

“You know you could have told me this sooner, right? I wasted a lot of groveling these last few weeks. I could have used that for something else.”

A laugh sounds in my ear. “But it was fun watching you sweat a little.”

“I don’t like you.”

“Tough shit, your best friend does.”

I hear some commotion on the other side and within seconds I’m no longer talking to Hunter but Selena.

“Behave.” She says, I’m just not sure if it’s to me or her new fiancé.

I’m about to say something childish to her but as I approach my building and look up, I’m at a loss for words.

My mind goes completely blank and all I can concentrate on isn’t Selena’s words but at the figure standing in front of my building.

No freaking way.

“No freaking way what?” Selena asks, telling me that I said the words out loud.

Not taking my eyes off the figure, the very same one that has noticed me walking up and is now looking me straight in the eye, I end the call with Selena.

“Sel, have fun at the game. I’ll see you after, for dinner.”

I don’t even give her a chance to respond. No, I just hang up and continue to close the distance between me and the forearm god that I thought I was never going to see again.

Yet here he is.

“Hi.” I say, a little too shocked to say anything else.

“Hi.” Maddox answers, sounding a little shocked himself.

“You made it back to San Francisco.” I say, trying to ease the tension between us.

He gives me a nod. “I did.”

Maddox doesn’t say anything else, so it looks like it's going to be me that has to get the words out of him.

“Did you come back here to get a repeat of your last visit?” I meant for it to come out as a joke but instead it comes out with a bit of a bite.

I’m all for one-night stands, but that’s not all I am. If this guy thinks that, then he is barking up the wrong tree.

“Actually, no,” he answers, shifting on his feet and reaching up to run a hand nervously through his hair. “I’m actually here for a proposition.”

“A proposition?” I ask.

A proposition doesn't sound any better than a booty call.

“Yep. One that I hope benefits us both.”

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