Page 25 of Waiting for Acceptance (Nashville Nights #5)

LAUREN

Is it possible to have an aneurysm from drinking too much?

I should probably look into that as soon as I can open my eyes all the way.

I reach for my phone and peek them open just enough to see the time.

My hand brushes against something cold when I place my phone back down and I roll my head to look again—seeing a glass of water and a bottle of aspirin.

Thank you, last night me.

I sit up and grab the bottle of pain reliever, popping two in my mouth before reaching for the water when I notice a little note underneath.

Coffee will be delivered at 10, Trouble.

I check my phone again, not remembering the time from two minutes ago, then I drag my ass out of bed since it’s already five after.

I don’t know how punctual the coffee delivery service he’s using may be, but I do know I’m not a fan of watered-down coffee.

I swing the door open and feel a wave of nausea wash over me again at the sight of Fitz standing outside, holding my coffee.

He looks hot as shit, wearing a pair of slacks with white sneakers and a fitted T-shirt, meanwhile, I resemble an ugly step troll in a baggy T-shirt, insane bed head, and a pair of underwear as he looks me up and down.

“Morning sleeping beauty.” He hands me my coffee and strolls inside my house, uninvited.

“Shut up,” I groan, shutting the door behind him. “And come in, I guess?” I follow him into my kitchen as he makes himself comfortable on a barstool while I hold my iced coffee.

“How hospitable of you.” He smirks at me then jumps when Ginny hops up onto the counter. “Ah, the killer cat.”

“Better watch out, she’s a great judge of character.” I snort.

“Explains why she attacked you.” The smirk on my face falls.

“We worked it out.” I roll my eyes and take a sip of my coffee. Then the little bitch starts purring and rubbing her head against his arm. My mouth pops open as she practically melts onto the counter in front of him.

“Well, would you look at that? She is a good judge of character.” He grins at me and I glare back at him.

“She must be having an off day,” I say, picking her up from the countertop.

“Traitor,” I whisper in her ear before putting her back on the ground.

“Is there a reason you’re here?” When I turn to face him his eyes are drifting back up from my ass, causing a blush to spread across my face like wildfire.

“Coffee, remember?” He nods to the cup in my hand.

“Is watching me drink it part of the agenda or?” I leave the question open so he can fill in the blanks.

“No. I am here to cash in that favor you owe me.” I slump over on my counter, giving him a clear look of annoyance.

“I’m very clearly hungover right now. Can we maybe talk about this some other time?” I whine.

“As much as I’d love to accommodate your misery, this is kind of a time-sensitive matter.”

“ Ugh. ” I slide my coffee to the side and lay my head down on the cool countertop as I hear him stand up from his seat.

“Water?” I assume he’s asking for some and point him in the direction of the refrigerator. I hear it open, then the crack of a water bottle lid.

“I need you to be my girlfriend.” I snap to attention, staring at him across my kitchen island.

“What?”

“Well, fake girlfriend, I guess.” The bothered look on his face is something I’ll have to revisit and assess at a later time because my head has barely stopped pounding enough to even understand what the hell he’s asking me to do.

“Again, what? ”

“My parents are trying to force me into a relationship with a woman I whole-heartedly loathe, and every time I go to New York—for any reason, but especially for work events—they invite her as my plus one on my behalf. I figure they can’t exactly invite a date for me if I bring my own.”

“Fitzgerald, I am so not in the right headspace for this conversation right now.” I lay my head back on the counter as he continues.

“If I had the time to discuss this when you were less…grouchy, believe me, I would. However, I am supposed to fly out for an event this weekend and time is of the essence if I’m going to inform my parents I will be bringing my own date instead of the one that makes me consider willingly walking on hot coals just to escape her.

” I don’t bother picking my head up when I speak this time because the cool surface is actually working wonders for my headache.

“I am not grouchy ,” I argue. “And you hate me too, so why trade one woman you can't stand for another? Just take the girl your parents like and get it over with.”

“You’d be surprised by how little I hate you, Trouble.” I gasp when I hear Fitz behind me and spin around so quickly it makes me dizzy. He takes a step toward me, even though there’s not nearly enough room for him to do so, making my back hit the edge of the marble.

“What do you say? Be my girlfriend?” My stupid girl heart flutters at his words and that’s enough to tell me this is a horrible idea.

I’m already starting to notice the nice things he does more than the annoying, bossy things.

Not to mention he’s everything I try to avoid in a man.

Rich, entitled, and too damn charming for his own good.

So in reality, maybe it’s a harmless task.

How hard could it be to get through an event or two as his fake girlfriend?

With a real relationship off the table, it shouldn’t be that challenging to pull off a fake one.

“Whatever. It’s just one event, right?” His brows pull together.

“Um, no. I just needed you to be available by the first event.”

“So, how long is this favor going to last, exactly?” For the first time ever I see Fitz look nervous .

“A year.” My eyes pop.

“A year?! I’m gonna throw up.” I lean my head forward to stop that from happening, unable to care that it’s now resting on his shoulder.

“Yes, I seem to have that effect on you lately.” My head snaps back up.

“Oh, please tell me I didn’t throw up on you last night.” I close my eyes, praying to anyone who will listen that he says no.

“You don’t remember?”

“Don’t start. I barely remember my own name right now, okay? There’s a lot happening this morning.”

“No, you didn’t throw up on me. But I got to see the show while you let it out in your friend's backyard.”

“Oh, thank god.”

“So, is that a yes?” I mull it over for another minute because that’s an entire year of my life pretending to be in a relationship with someone I can’t stand ninety-five percent of the time.

That’s insane, right? I mean, sure I wouldn’t be alone, rewatching Gossip Girl for the ten thousandth time while my friends repopulate or travel the Earth with their husbands, and it would keep me from having to accept unwanted dates from my parent’s co-workers ki— oh shit.

I was supposed to go out with that guy this weekend.

I will literally never hear the end of this from my parents if I don’t have a good reason for blowing that guy off. Whatever the hell his name was.

Well, I guess I found my reason to agree to this insanity. Though there’s no chance I’m letting him think it’s going to happen that easily.

“Are you still in there?” Fitz uses two fingers to tap me on the forehead and I swat them away.

“What’s in it for me?” I cross my arms over my chest, brushing against his since he’s still standing unnecessarily close to me.

“I thought you understood this was an owed favor for me escorting you to the wedding.”

“Okay, that was one night, this is a year of my life. Did you really think I just didn’t have any other potential plans for the next 365 days?” I lift my brows in anticipation as he stares back at me.

“Whatever potential plans you had for yourself over the next year, I promise to make it worth your while to…postpone them.” The arrogant assurance to his tone makes my skin tingle.

“How so?”

“Say yes and find out.”

Note to self: Don’t make decisions while hungover and high on the smell of rich boy cologne.

“I have one condition.” He gives me a curious glance. “No one can know it’s fake.”

Because how embarrassing is that?!

“Even better,” he agrees.

“Fine. One year.” I hold out my hand and he smiles.

“We’ll see.” He grabs my hand and pulls me flush against his chest and I curse my body for the way my nipples harden against the thin fabric of my T-shirt.

“Didn’t your parents ever teach you not to make deals with the devil, Trouble?

” I swallow hard past the lump forming in my throat, allowing my eyes to lock with his.

“I have a bad habit of doing the opposite of what my parents tell me to.” He leans in and my entire body is frozen as his lips inch closer to mine.

“Of course you do.” He kisses my nose and my entire brain turns to static.

Then he grabs his water bottle from the counter and walks towards the door.

“We fly out Thursday, make sure Ginny has a sitter. We’ll be gone for a week.

” He turns to face me once more. “See you soon, Sweetheart.” And with a wink, he’s gone and I’m left wondering what the hell I just signed up for.