Page 11 of Fun Together (Make Romance #1)

Eli

It takes me a couple of long, but pulse-quickening seconds to register that she didn’t just say the words “kiss me,” but “pretend to kiss me.”

Which is somehow even more interesting. “What does pretend kissing involve?”

She looks anywhere but at me and crosses her arms over her chest. The motion draws my eyes to her cleavage, and I force my eyes up. “We would just need to make it look like we’re kissing when we’re really not.”

This sends my brain into overdrive, thinking of all the ways I can pretend to kiss her. Pretend to kiss her on top of the pool table. Pretend to kiss her against the wall. Pretend to kiss her while she’s hoisted up on the bar, trapping me between her thighs.

She continues, “Forget it. Pretend kissing. So dumb.”

She’s embarrassed that she’s asked me to do this, and I don’t want that. “Not dumb at all. I have an idea.”

“Eli—”

I point to the corner next to the TouchTunes. “We can go over there, and I’ll block you so all anyone will be able to see is my back. What do you think?”

She looks over to where I’ve pointed and chews on her bottom lip. I watch her think for a few seconds and then she nods decisively. “Okay.”

I grab her hand and lead her over to the corner. Her palm is warm, a little sweaty, and I wonder if she’s nervous. I move so that she’s wedged in the small space. From an outside perspective it would just look like a couple making out. “How’s this?”

She crosses, then uncrosses her arms, like she’s unsure what to do with them. “What should we do now?” She laughs the tiniest bit in a nervous way. “Does it look like you’re just some creep trapping me in the corner?”

The last thing I want is her to feel uncomfortable or that I’m hovering over her in a creepy way. “Sorry, I don’t want you to feel like that.” I straighten a little so I’m not as close to her.

“No, I’m okay. I’m glad it’s you—I mean that you’re here. That I don’t have to—” She takes a shuddering breath. “I need to do this. Even if it isn’t real.”

“If you want something to do with your hands, you could put them on the back of my neck? Like you’re going to pull me in.”

She nods. “Right, yeah that’s a good idea.”

“Then I can move my face down next to yours and it’ll look like we’re kissing from her point of view.” I’m hoping if I spell everything out then she’ll feel more comfortable.

“But you won’t actually kiss me?” She says this in a way that I can’t read. I can’t tell if she’s ensuring I won’t or if she’s hoping I will.

“No. We won’t actually kiss.”

She brings her hands up to the back of my neck and rests them against my nape before sliding her fingers into my hair. It feels so good, a pleasant shiver rolls down my spine.

“You could put your hands somewhere on me,” she suggests.

I was so busy focusing on where she’d need to put her hands to make this convincing that I didn’t allow myself to think about getting to touch her.

Back when we were playing pool and I stood behind her and placed my hand over hers, it felt so right, so good to be near her like that. “Where?” I ask, voice cracking.

Her hands twitch in my hair. “On my waist?”

I rest my hands along the waistband of her jeans. The bottom of her tank top lifts and I can feel her skin, soft and warm against my hands. This is a terrible idea. An excellent, terrible idea.

“This okay?” I ask.

“Mm-hmm.”

“Sorry if I’m a little scruffy,” I say, bringing my face down by her right cheek. “Haven’t shaved in a while.”

“It’s okay. I like it. I mean—” She shifts slightly, and I slide my hands around to clasp my palms against her lower back. “It suits you. The beard.”

I’ll never go clean-shaven again. “Thank you.” I move my head to the other side, mimicking the act of kissing by her left ear. “You still good?”

“Yeah,” she says, sounding a little breathless.

“Why do you have to kiss someone before you can leave?”

“It’s part of my hierarchy of fun.”

“That sounds very serious.”

She huffs a laugh and the way her breath feels against my neck makes me feel like I’ve reverted to being a teenager again, when the slightest touch from a girl would send me into a horny tailspin. “It’s something Rett and I put together as a guide.”

“And kissing is part of that?”

“Among other things,” she says, and I glance over to see a flush of peach move up her neck into her jawline. I’m curious about these other things, too, but push that aside for now.

“Kissing is fun,” I say, unable to keep myself from looking at her mouth.

“Yeah, it can be.”

“So why aren’t you really flirting with someone tonight?” I move back down to nuzzle by her neck. “Really kissing them?”

She glides her hands to rest on top of my shoulders. “Because I don’t feel like it?” I lift my head to see that she’s grinning up at me, like she knows she’s not being completely honest, but maybe it doesn’t matter anyway.

It’s always been like this with her, like she doesn’t want to share anything of herself—even what I’d consider small things.

I remember asking her where she was from when she and Andrew first started hanging out, and she responded, “Somewhere you’ve never heard of, probably.

” And then it became a game for me to try to guess the town she grew up in.

Come to think of it, she never ended up telling me.

Naturally, I push a little on this too. “Why don’t you feel like it?”

She sighs and tucks a piece of hair behind her ear before placing her hand back on my shoulder. “I don’t feel like having to do the whole song and dance. I’m bad at it.”

“I disagree.” The piece of hair she tried to tuck behind her ear falls back down and I fight the urge to tuck it back in for her. “Start with the secret tattoo, and you’re totally in.”

She laughs and it turns into a hiccup. It’s adorable and I want to make her do it again. “I should have never told you about that.”

She’s right. Ever since she mentioned it, I’ve been wondering where it could be.

We used to go to Andrew’s family’s lake house all the time, so I’ve seen her in a swimsuit.

I know it’s somewhere, hidden from just anyone’s view.

Maybe low on her hip? Or just below her lower back?

Maybe she got it recently and it could be anywhere my eyes can’t see right now.

No, I can’t go there. “Point is, you could be really kissing someone right now if you wanted to be.”

A full blush blooms up her cheeks, like a signal that I’m getting close to something.

But where am I trying to get? Shyness has always drawn me in, something I can’t help but want to explore.

What is she thinking? What does she want?

I’ve been surprised by her tonight, and I don’t know what to do about it.

There’s nothing I should do about it.

“We can probably end this soon,” she says, almost as if she could read my thoughts.

“Am I not meeting your pretend kissing standards?”

“It’s not that. I haven’t given you a chance to meet anyone tonight. Sorry for hogging all your time.”

In all honesty, I forgot that the whole reason I came out tonight was so I could meet someone new. But I don’t want to talk to anyone else tonight. I want to stay in this corner of the bar talking to her until they kick us out. Which is why she’s right. This should end soon.

“Thank you. For helping me.” At this, she removes her hands from my shoulders.

I step back. “Glad I could be of service.”

“Want to meet the friend responsible for this farce?”

“Absolutely.”

I follow her up to the bar where the tall redhead Faye pointed out earlier turns to greet us as we squeeze through the crowd of people. She doesn’t smile at me in greeting and simply looks at me the way a scientist would look at a specimen under a microscope. Neutral, but curious.

Faye gestures to her. “Rett, this is Eli. Eli this is Rett.”

“That’s a cool name,” I say, feeling a need to warm her to me somehow. “Is it short for something?”

“I could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you,” Rett says, and I think she might be serious.

Faye stands on her toes and says in an overdramatic whisper, “It’s short for Loretta.”

Rett glares at Faye, but I can tell she’s not actually mad at her. Faye looks up at me, conspiratorial.

“My lips are sealed,” I say to Rett.

“Wait a minute, did you say your name was Eli?”

“Yes, why?”

She looks at Faye in a suspicious way and Faye returns her look with an innocent widening of her eyes. They go back and forth with the kind of silent communication that only best friends have.

Rett turns back to me and smiles at me. “No reason.”

“Should we get the Uber now?” Faye asks.

“I can give you a ride if you need one,” I offer.

“No, I don’t want you to have to leave too. You should continue your night,” she says.

“I’m kind of tired, honestly.” Maybe the biggest lie I’ve ever told. I’ve never been so keyed up in my life. I don’t want to stay here, and I don’t want to go home, either.

“Are you good to drive?” Rett asks me.

“Been drinking water all night.” Since I have a thirty-minute drive back to my parents’ house after this, I didn’t want to drink too much. Turns out, I haven’t even wanted to drink at all.

Rett leads Faye over to the side to have a private conversation, but I hear bits here and there.

“Is that Eli?”

“Shhh, you’re yelling!”

“Should I get the Uber and leave you two?”

“. . . just friends . . . helping me . . .”

Does that mean Faye had already told Rett about me? I wonder what she said to her. They turn back to me, and I pretend I wasn’t listening.

Rett loops her arm through Faye’s. “Off to her murder-apartment it is, then.”

“You’re a McAngel.”

Faye is nestled in the passenger seat of my truck, McDonald’s bag snuggled up to her chest. We’re parked on the street in front of where she lives, an old brick building that looks one development deal away from demolition.I think I know what Rett meant earlier with the murder-apartment comment.

Rett pipes in from the back seat, “A guardian McAngel.”

I pop a chicken nugget into my mouth. “Yeah, I come to earth once a year to bring the McRib back.”

Faye giggles through a mouthful of fries. “The McRib Messiah.”

“Do not say McRib to me right now unless you want me to throw up inside of this hat.” Rett holds up a cap I got at a charity basketball game I played in a couple of years ago.

It’s a wonder there’s even room for her to sit. “Sorry for the mess back there.”

She removes the Red Bull can she’s sitting on. “I’d say this the perfect ambience for post-drinking fast food.”

Faye leans around to hand Rett a burger, pausing midway to turn to me. A piece of her hair falls down to tickle my arm. “It’s okay if we eat in here, right?”

“Yeah, that’s fine.” The idea of going back to the pull-out couch in the basement is something I wanted to put off as long as possible, so I was eager for the detour we took before heading to Faye’s place.

“So Rett, did your fun needs get met tonight?” I ask her.

“You told him!” Rett screams, grabbing Faye’s shoulder.

Faye gently removes Rett’s hand. “Please calm down.”

“Was I not supposed to know?” I ask.

“I’m just surprised,” Rett says. Surprised Faye told me, or surprised Faye “kissed” me?

“So, what are the other fun needs?” I ask.

“You really don’t need to know,” Faye says, unwrapping her burger.

“You tell him about the needs, but you won’t show him the full list?”

I turn to Rett. “Exactly. What if there are other things I can help with?”

“Nooo,” Faye says, covering her face. “You’ve helped enough.”

“Maybe Rett will tell me.”

“Well first,” Rett says, ignoring Faye’s objection. “I told her we needed to go out so she could meet someone and then go home with them and?—”

“Rett, I swear to God,” Faye interrupts her. “Don’t finish that sentence.” She reaches into her purse and pulls out a lipstick, her phone, and crumpled piece of paper. “You might as well see the whole thing, I guess.”

I unfold the paper and see “Faye’s Hierarchy of Fun” written at the top with a scribble of a pyramid below it.

Faye’s Hierarchy of Fun

Hobby – find one

Social – have a party small get-together

Sex – have some

Career – new job

Environmental – apartment feels like home

“So the pretend kissing was supposed to lead to . . . pretend sex?” I can’t help but tease her, it’s a disease.

She covers her face again. “I’m sobering up way too fast for where this conversation is going.”

“Pretend?!” Rett screeches.

Faye gives me a shy smile, like we were both in on a big secret. “We weren’t really flirting,” she explains. “Or . . . kissing.”

The flirting was very real on my end, and the pretend kissing was almost better than the real thing, as far as I’m concerned.

Rett sighs dramatically. “Well, you two should take up acting.”

Faye gives me a quick look before doing the most obviously fake yawn I’ve ever seen. “Time to go to sleep, I think.”

“Do you guys need help getting to your apartment?”

“No, I think we’re good. Thank you again for giving us a ride.”

“No problem. I’ll see you on Monday.”

They both get out and hook their arms together as they make their way up the sidewalk.

“Nice to meet you, Loretta!” I shout out the window.

Rett gives me her middle finger in answer.

This makes Faye laugh in a way that goes straight to my bones—and other areas—saying, That right there and How can I make you do that again?