Her phone buzzed on the table. Looking like the cat who had eaten the entire cage of canaries, she answered it. “Hey, Kelsey.…No, I’m fine. I had a few drinks then went home.” The entire time that she was talking, Holly glanced everywhere but at me. “I can later. I need to book my plane tickets for thefuneral.”
At the last part, that strange feeling nudged me a little harder. I swatted it away like it was an annoying mosquito buzzing near myface.
Holly finally looked at me while listening to whatever Kelsey was saying. She flashed me an apologetic smile. In the book on one-night stands, this would be where the author recommended bailing if you hadn’t already. Great advice—but since Holly and I were friends, it seemed ridiculous to do that at thispoint.
A few minutes later Holly ended the call, then continued talking to me as if she hadn’t answered the phone. “Anyway, about last night. We were drunk and not thinking clearly. So, how about we pretend it neverhappened?”
Laughter bubbled inside me at how flustered this conversation was leaving her. The regular Holly looked nothing like this. This version was adorable, with her hair adopting the I’ve-just-had-a-great-fuck messy look that turned men on. She was wearing black yoga pants and a white tank top with a comical koala on the front. Far from her usual fashionable self. Her face was makeup-free, and despite her hangover, she had a glow about her. A post-sexglow.
And I’d be lying if I said it didn’t make me want to bang my fists against my chest, cavemanstyle.
What? Don’t judge me. There isn’t a man alive who doesn’t appreciate it when the woman he’s given multiple orgasms to looks beyond merely satisfied. If he says otherwise, he’slying.
Holly’s phone pinged. She glanced at the screen, and it was like a vampire had suddenly sucked all the blood from her face. “Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God,” she whispered before her hand covered her mouth as if to prevent any more “Oh, Gods” fromescaping.
Now, I’d be the first to admit that usually when women were saying “Oh, God” that many times in a row, it wasnotbecause of a text. The strange feeling I was forgetting something? It was no longer a nudge. It was a full out push-you-over-the-cliff shove. “What’swrong?”
“Oh, God,” was apparently the only answer Holly planned to give me, her gaze still locked on thephone.
I removed it from her hand and read the text—even though it wasn’t mine to read.Why is it I have to hear from Simon that our baby sis is engaged? Thought I was your favoritebrother!
While I was still holding the phone, another text came in.Can’t wait to meet your fiancé.That one was fromSimon.
Oh. Fucking. Christ.The conversation from last night bulldozed its way into myhead.
She had asked me to pretend to be her fiancé. I hadn’t given her an answer because we’d had sex instead—my one-track mind that easilydistracted.
Holly dragged her gaze from the phone and settled her gorgeous green eyes on me. Warning alarms blared“Code Red! Code Red!”in myhead.
“I swear, I’ll never ask you for another favor…” she said, “and I’ll do whatever you want just to make it up toyou.”
“Sweetheart, there’s nothing you can give me that will make up for pretending to be your fiancé.” Okay, that wasn’t entirely true. A year’s worth of blowjobs would be a goodstart.
“Sooo, that’s ayes?”
I swear the woman could put puppies to shame with her puppy dog eyes. No one else pulled them off as convincingly asHolly.
“That would be a no.” Did I mention I was immune to puppy dogeyes?
She slumped forward, elbows on the table, face in her hands. “Oh, God, I’m screwed. Now I’ll have to spend the entire time there with my mum driving me insane. And I’ll probably agree to marry Wilfred just to get her off myback.”
“Maybe you can find someone else to be yourfiancé.”
She shook her head, her face still in her hands. “Not on this short notice. And especially not someone who can fly toAustralia.”
“Doesn’t engaged usually mean you’re expecting to get married at some point? Won’t they wonder when the big dayis?”
Holly dropped her hands from her face. “I was going to pretend to be engaged for a few months and then call it off. It’s not like my parents expect me to get married nextweek.”
“But won’t your mom go back to pushing Wilfred on youagain?”
“Not right away. So that will buy me time to come up with something else…like never returning to Australia again if it comes down toit.”
“Are you sure there’s no other way to get your mom off your back about this Wilfred guy?” Holly had never come off as the type of girl who let others tell her what todo.
Which meant her mother had to be a force to reckon with—much like a freakinghurricane.
She shook her head. “No, Mum’s stubborn like that. She doesn’t care that I don’t love the guy. Love is irrelevant in hermind.”
