One Week Girlfriend (One Week Girlfriend, #1)(22)

In fact, I would prefer it.

“Like what you see?”

Adele’s contemptuous voice startles me and I lift my gaze to hers, discover she’s watching me with an undisguised sneer curving her lips.

“Your dress is beautiful,” I say and she smiles icily in response but otherwise doesn’t say a word.

God. I want to stomp my foot and tell her to screw off. But I hold it all in, offering her a faint smile when she looks back my way. Though she’s not really looking at me, she’s looking at Drew, who’s come up behind me. I know this because I can sense him, smell his delicious scent, feel the alluring warmth that radiates off of his big body.

I have it so incredibly bad for this guy. I’m in deep trouble. What if he doesn’t feel the same way? What then? There’s nothing I can do about it. I signed up for this and now I have to deal with the consequences, no matter what happens.

“Ready to go in?” He settles his hand on my bare shoulder and his touch is such a shock to my system, I feel like I can’t breathe, my lungs are frozen solid.

Turning my head to the side, I realize he’s standing close. Really close. His mouth is at my temple, like he’s kissing me there, and I can feel his warm breath stir the little tendrils of hair that rest at my forehead. We make an intimate picture to everyone, I’m sure. I wonder if it’s all for Adele’s benefit.

I don’t understand the control she has over him. He puts up a front for her with me, yet doesn’t want to be around her. None of it makes any sense.

For the majority of my life, I’ve allowed myself to be used. Repeatedly and by everyone who surrounds me. I should be numb to this. But I’m not, not with Drew. I don’t want him to use me to make his parents freak out. I don’t want him to use me as some sort of weird protection so the people in his life quit asking probing questions and leave him alone.

I want him to actually like me. I want to spend more time with him. Real time. Not phony ‘oh, let’s hang all over each other’ time either.

“Yes,” I finally say in answer to his question because I don’t know what else to do. We need to face reality and that crowd waiting for us inside.

He squeezes my shoulder and we walk in together, trailing behind his parents, earning a hard glare from Adele as we pass through the open double doors.

This night is going to feel like an eternity. It already does.





* Chapter Seven *



Day 2, 9:38 p.m.



I’ve never dropped anyone I believed in. – Marilyn Monroe



Drew



We sit next to each other at the round table surrounded by a crush of people, the noise from their constant chatter deafening. We say nothing to each other throughout the entire meal, for at least an hour, if not longer. I know it’s stupid, but she makes me nervous and I want to get this just right.

It’s like I can’t find words. What can I say to follow up that kiss in the backseat of my dad’s car? I don’t want to cheapen the moment. It’s like I sit here and I’m wallowing in it still. Thinking like a chick, relieving the moment over and over again in my mind.

How she responded to me, the little sounds of pleasure she made in the back of her throat. The feel of her warm, velvety tongue as it slid against mine, her hands in my hair. I can’t remember the last time I was kissed like that. Have I ever been kissed like that? Hell, I really don’t think so.

The realization stops me cold.

We may not speak, but I’m extremely aware of her. The sound of her soft breathing, her sweet scent that makes my mouth water. The heat of her skin, the way her bare shoulder brushes against my arm when she reaches for her glass of water. I wonder if she’s touching me on purpose.

Out of the corner of my eye, I watch her drink. Her full lips curve around the glass, the delicate line of her throat and its movement as she swallows. The impulse to kiss all that exposed skin is so strong I clench my hands into fists and rest them on my thighs. Willing myself to stop thinking like an idiot.

Doesn’t work. I can’t stop thinking about her. How she felt in my arms, the taste of her still on my lips. I don’t ever f*cking think like this ever. I stuffed all useless emotion down deep inside me a long time ago and I’ve refused to let it back out. It’s pointless. I’m like a robot most of the time. Going through the motions, getting through life one day at a time.

But this girl…she doesn’t feel pointless. She’s real and she’s beautiful and she fits perfectly when she’s in my arms. She makes me want to feel.

So dangerous to think like this. I don’t mean anything to her. I’m a means to an end. A job with a paycheck. I did this to myself and now I regret it.

I scowl and slug back the beer I got from the bar earlier. It’s my second one and if I have to endure this for much longer, I’m grabbing another soon. I’m pissed that my plan to parade around a fake girlfriend has gone straight to hell and I have no idea how to stop this train wreck called my emotions. I’m not even sure if I want to stop this.

That’s the stupidest thing of all. How much I want to torture myself. But if it feels good being with her, why would I want to stop?

You’ve done other things that felt real good, but you knew you should stop.

I hate that voice inside my head. It reminds me of all my faults. All the bad shit I’ve done. I’m not a good person and I know it. I don’t need the constant reminders.