Page 27 of The Girlfriend Card (Vegas Sin #4)

Discreet

Ottavia

“ B y~e, gu~ys!” Sienna and my other coworkers sang, their playful, teasing voices following Dakota and me as we made our way out of the restaurant.

“Hear that?” I chuckled, leaning closer to Dakota as we left the restaurant together. “They think we’re boning now.”

“Eh, let ’em think what they want,” he said, eyes sparkling as he opened the door for me. “It’s more fun that way.”

“Fun for you, maybe. You love the idea of people thinking we’re boning, don’t you?”

“Are you crazy? You think I wanna wind up butchered alive and tossed into a dumpster somewhere?”

My laugh tapered off into a groan. “Oh, no, not this again …”

“C’mon, Ottavia.” As we walked to his car, he leaned closer and lowered his voice so no one would hear. “You’re still gonna deny Sal’s in the mafia, even when he’s making you marry the future President’s son?!”

“My dad is a lot of things, but he’s not a mafioso,” I said as we approached Dakota’s Porsche.

I pressed the unlock button on the key fob, and the car unlocked with a chirp.

My heart rocked against my rib cage as I climbed into the driver’s seat.

I was already nervous about driving out of here on my own—I had literally no driving experience—but once I looked down, I couldn’t help but shake my head.

“Nope. No way. Not happening,” I said, popping my door open again.

“Why not?” he asked.

I pointed at the shifter. “Because your car is a stick shift! ”

He chuckled confidently. “Yeah, so? You’ll learn. And I’ll be right here to help you. We all gotta start somewhere, you know?”

“Sure, but not here! Look at all these cars!” I whipped my head around to catch a glimpse of the cars coming and going in both directions. It wasn’t heavy traffic, no, but it was definitely more than I was comfortable with, considering I’d never driven a car, ever, let alone a manual.

“My bad. You’re right.” Dakota relented and touched my arm apologetically. “How about this? I’ll take us somewhere you feel comfortable to learn.”

“Deal.” I couldn’t help but smile. Dakota could be a sweetie when he wanted. I loved that he was understanding and not pushy about it.

Even though I wasn’t brave enough to tackle a stick shift in the middle of Las Vegas traffic, I was still so excited to learn. We jumped out to quickly swap seats, trading smiles, our arms brushing against each other as we crossed paths, creating an electric flutter in my stomach.

We settled into our seats, and Dakota began the lesson. “First thing is, to start the car, you have to press the clutch in.” Dakota demonstrated, and the car fired up. “Just like that. Now, to get going …”

While the engine idled, he gave me a thorough rundown on what the clutch did, and how and when to use it. Then we were off, in search of a desolate place where I could practice.

We made small talk during the drive, but I could tell something was on Dakota’s mind. We stopped at a light, and a silence grew between us.

Dakota gave me a curious glance and began, gently, “So … what’s Leo think about your guys’ situation?”

“Well.” I drew a deep breath. “He’s more okay with it than I am. He has his own reasons.”

“Like what?”

“For one, he’s carving out his own political career.” I left the big one unsaid, however. “You know, Dad is convinced Leo is going to be president someday. It certainly wouldn’t shock me.”

“So you’re not going to get any help from Leo, is what you’re saying.”

I shook my head. “Nope. I think, up until a couple weeks ago, I had some hope he might be on the same page as me.”

“No luck?”

I shook my head. “He’s fully on board. He says there’s no reason we can’t make it work. As long as we’re discreet, and all.”

“Damn. That’s too bad.” Dakota blew out a breath of air. “So, about Leo.”

“What about him?”

“He’s a handsome guy,” he said.

“Funny. He said the same about you. Different word choice, maybe—” I snickered, remembering Leo calling him a dreamboat, “—but same idea.”

“You know what us athletes like to say.” He flashed a cocky smile. “Game recognizes game.”

“Uh-huh. Sure.”

“Anyway.” He cleared his throat. “I know he’s not really your boyfriend … but … uh.” He scratched the back of his neck, hesitating to finish his thought. “Since you’re living with him now and all—”

I thought he looked so cute, nervously struggling to get the words out, but I decided to help him out.

“Are you trying to ask if we are ever intimate with each other in our fake relationship?” I asked.

He let out a breath of relief. “Yes. Thank you.”

“The answer is no, we’re not.”

“Nothing at all, huh?” he asked, his eyes darting from the road to study me. “Never a kiss? Not even a cuddle on the couch?”

“No. Nothing. He’s my good friend, and that’s truly it.” I paused. “But I do have to be honest about something here. Leo and I did have a phase in our early teens where we tried out being boyfriend and girlfriend.”

He chuckled. “Just a tryout, huh?”

“It was definitely a tryout.”

“And how long of a tryout was it?” he asked.

“Two or three years, something like that,” I mumbled.

“I dunno, Ottavia. Three years sounds like an awfully long time for a tryout,” he teased.

“You’re right. It is a long time. But if you knew the whole story, you’d definitely agree it was a tryout.”

“So what happened?”

I told him how Leo and I had ‘met’ when we were toddlers, how we played all the time as kids, and how, as we grew up together, we both had this idea that we would be married someday.

“Gee, I wonder who put that idea in your head,” he quipped.

“Yep. I know,” I said with a sigh. “I’m still trying to un-fuck my mind because of that one.”

I told him how, when Leo and I were fourteen, we were ready to take our ‘relationship’ to the next level, and declared ourselves boyfriend and girlfriend.

“Bet that made ol’ Sal happy, huh?”

“Oh, yes. And not just him.” I snickered.

“Practically all my other friends had parents who disapproved of their boyfriends or hated the idea of them dating. But our parents? Boy, did they love it. And their approval made it all so easy to go along with. Like it was meant to be.” I hung my head.

“You know the really sick part? I think if someone had told me that we were ‘arranged’ to be married, it wouldn’t have even made a difference to me.

Actually, it would’ve been further proof that we were meant to be. That’s how ‘in love’ I was.”

“Damn,” he grumbled. “Did you really love him?”

“I definitely thought so when we first started dating. Looking back, it’s obvious it wasn’t love, but more of a euphoric high we got from our parents being so happy and excited that we were dating. Because of their plans and all.”

He frowned. “Yeah. I can see that.”

“Anyway, eventually, that feeling began to wane, and it became clear that we both wanted different things from life. And it didn’t work out.”

“So you want different things, but he still wants to be married to you. Wow, your lives really went in two different directions, huh?” Dakota snickered cynically. “That sounds fair.”

“Yeah, I know. It’s not fair,” I admitted with a sigh. “But that’s why we have an agreement in place.”

Dakota raised an eyebrow. “And what’s the agreement?”

“We can both see other people. It just has to be … discreet.” I shot him a glance. “Which is what I was trying to tell you over text that one day.”

He slowly turned to me with a knowing smile and met my eyes. “Yeah?”

I nodded, my stomach twisting into knots. “Yeah.”

“Huh. Good to know.” He said, confidently taking that information into stride. “Guess that means I shouldn’t show up at your work anymore then, eh?”

I giggled. “Probably not.”

“The good news is, we’ll be plenty discreet out here,” Dakota said as he turned off the road and pulled into a massive—and totally empty—parking lot outside of a factory. “You ready to learn how to drive?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be!”