Page 7 of Her Fake Mate

It’s not going to be enough to just be friends. If we want the pack’s opinion on the foxes to change, then we have to pretend for more than that.

We have to pretend to be a couple.

The next morning, the idea that felt perfect the night before suddenly seems like the dumbest fucking thing that I’ve ever done.

I shouldn’t be here.

My hands feel weirdly sweaty around the two coffee cups in my hands. I shouldn’t have gotten myself one. I don’t drink coffee. But I figure that it would be weird for me to show up and just hand her one.

Maybe not.

I’ve never actually brought a woman coffee before, let alone one who vividly and clearly doesn’t like me.

I take one deep breath, then set the coffees on the railing of the porch. I move to knock on the door, but to my surprise, it creaks open.

I blink, looking down, and two small faces look up at me.

“Who are you?” a little girl says. She has more attitude than any child I’ve ever met in my life.

“Zander,” I say, squinting at her. “Who are you?”

She doesn’t answer. The other one isn’t making words. Just little cooing and cuddling noises.

They’re pretty cute, actually. The noises don’t bother me. Both kids stare at me, and I stare right back at them.

“Lana, I told you not to…” Mia’s voice cuts off as she sees me standing in the doorway.

Something ripples through me at her reaction. Surely I’m not that bad of company?

“What are you doing here?” she asks. Harshly.

Um.

I can’t exactly open with, I think we should pretend to date so that you can be accepted into the pack and Thorne will get off my back about hanging out with you. Oh, and so people don’t want to throw your brother in the slammer.

“Can you talk?”

You’d think that I asked her to milk a duck. She makes a face, gaping at me. “You want to talk?”

“Yeah.”

“To me?”

“Yes.”

“Right now?”

I mean, is she honestly not following this?

“Yes. Just over here,” I wave at the porch.

Mia stares at me for another minute. Then, she turns to the kids. “If I don’t come back in ten minutes, get the alpha.”

“What’s a minute?” the first child squeaks

Mia gives the sigh of someone who has suffered one too many small problems in a day, then scoots both children out of the way. She grabs the door behind her, bringing it to a hasty close.

We end up facing each other on the porch. Her chest rises and falls, and I can see the outline of her breasts against her shirt.

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