Faking with Benefits : A Friends to Lovers Romance(72)

Sweetheart Soulmates @SweetheartSoulmatesPodcast

@ThreeSingleGuys latest episodes are what’s wrong with modern ‘progressive’ views. Since when was it acceptable for a woman to publicly date three men? A disgusting example to set for the impressionable youth listening…





Briar Saint @TheRealBriarSaint ?

Spent all my downtime on set today listening to @ThreeSingleGuys and laughing my makeup off. They’ve got a great episode on group relationships, I think I’m gonna start sending it to nosy journalists. Give them a listen here. Xo





FORTY-FOUR





JOSH





“The numbers are through the roof,” Paul crows down the phone. “God, I’m so glad I picked this project to back. I knew you guys would pull it off.”

“Uh huh,” I say blandly, staring through Layla’s bedroom door. While I’m stuck taking calls in her living room, all of the others are in there, packing for my brother’s wedding tomorrow. The week since Mother’s day has gone by in a blur of interviews and sponsorships and social media frenzy, and the wedding date crept up on me way sooner than I expected. The ceremony isn’t until tomorrow afternoon, but since I’m the best man, I’ll have to be available from early morning, so we’re driving to the hotel tonight.

I can’t wait. I’m excited for Rob to get married — but honestly, the wedding isn’t the main thing on my mind. I’m mostly looking forward to spending some time away with Layla. She’s been working so hard, for so long, that me and the other guys arranged a little surprise for her. We’ve booked out a special suite at the hotel, and extended our stay for four nights, so we can have a proper mini-break. Since Layla won’t accept money from us, we figured we may as well splash out to spoil her a little.

But first, I have to deal with our manager.

“And did you see what Sweetheart Soulmates tweeted?” Paul laughs. “They called you all disgusting! Can you believe it?”

“Yeah. I mean, no.” As I watch, Layla saunters past her bedroom door in a little red slip. A half-naked Luke grabs at her, pulling her onto the bed with him. She climbs up onto his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck, and starts rubbing up against his crotch.

“And it’s all because of you,” Paul says dreamily. I nod, staring as Layla kisses Luke, slowly starting to rock on his lap. A moan filters through the lounge. Jesus Christ. Is she riding him? With the bedroom door open?

“This was your idea. You should be proud of yourself. God, I can’t believe that Briar Saint tweeted about you.”

I smile slightly. On Monday morning, the actress Briar Saint tweeted about us, and all of our steady momentum just exploded. Suddenly, everyone was messaging us. Our email inboxes have been constantly full. Our PO box is overflowing with sponsored items and free gifts from companies that want to work with us. Layla gave an interview for a London-based fashion magazine a few days ago, and she’s had to hire three more seamstresses to help her keep on top of all of the orders. London PodFest even got in touch yesterday, and told us that there was so much demand for entry to our live show that they’ve upgraded us to the largest auditorium in the building. We’ll be talking for a thousand people — by far the biggest crowd we’ve ever recorded in front of.

Paul is pretty much shitting himself. He sent us all boxes of chocolates this morning, and when we went to record in the studio last week, he was there with bottles of Prosecco. We’re now his biggest clients. And it’s all because of Layla.

There’s another moan from the bedroom. I glance at Layla. She’s riding Luke now, holding onto the headboard for balance. As I watch, she tosses her hair back, then shoots a look at me over her shoulder, green eyes glittering. She’s doing this on purpose.

“You don’t sound very happy,” Paul chides. “This show is your baby. I thought you’d be over the moon.”

“Of course I’m happy,” I tell him. “I never thought the podcast would do this well.” Layla is panting now, her thighs straining as she bobs up and down over Luke’s dick. I can see the sweat sheening her skin, a flush slowly climbing up her chest as she screws him hard. The sight should probably just get me hard, but instead, it makes something flutter inside my chest.

I’ve been screwed ever since Mother’s Day. Since she burst into my room half-naked, climbed up into my lap, and stayed with me. I miss my mum all the time, but usually, it’s just a background hum. But every so often the grief hits me all at once, and it hurts so much I get physically sick. On Mother’s Day, with Luke and Zack both gone and nothing to do but think, it felt like I was dying. Like my organs were shutting down.

And then she came, and took me to her flat, and just held me. There was no hesitation. No holding back. She just instinctively knew what I needed and did it for me.

I don’t want you to be alone right now.

Ever since then, I can’t even look at her without my heart clenching in my chest. Every room she walks into seems brighter. The sky seems bluer. I can’t get her out of my head.

I’ve never been in love. I don’t know what it feels like. But I wouldn’t be surprised if it felt like this.

As I watch, Layla finally comes, slamming her hand against the headboard with a muffled cry. Luke follows soon after, pulling her into his chest as she trembles. I grimace, adjusting myself in my suddenly-tight jeans.