Page 49 of The Pucking Fake Marriage

I glance up at our fathers, noting for a brief moment that James is still trying to teach my father about hockey. Before I can decide whether to hop into the conversation, I feel her fingers brushing against my erection.

Fuck. Me.

This girl is like all my fantasies rolled in one. I turn to her. She raises her brows at me, that excited spark in her eyes. It’s clear that she’s about to do something I’m going to hate and love all at once. A new wave of need spills over me,one that cannot—will not—be quenched by some under-the-table groping. I want to let her know that she’s got to meet me in the bathroom now.

“… tabloids say about Ken, though. Isn’t that right, Ken?”

I jerk toward my mother at the same moment I feel Charlie’s fingers fly off my dick. Withdrawing my fingers from her, I flash a pleasant smile, a perfect picture of innocence. Beside me, I sense rather than hear Charlie’s restrained giggle.

“Yeah?” I say to my mother, amusement bubbling in my throat. This is far from all the games we played on our parents as kids, but it also feels achingly familiar. As does sharing a laugh without even having to look at her in the face.

“We were just talking about your love life.” Ariel sounds annoyed that we weren’t listening.

Charlie’s amusement seems to die on the spot. “Mom, are you really going to keep going on about that?”

“Not yours, dear,” my mother says to her. “Ken’s. And Kali’s. Kali just broke up with that dancer—he still refuses to tell me why—and Ken is always being speculated about in the sports tabloids. But you’re not dating anyone now, are you, Ken?”

Charlie makes a small sound that’s somewhere between a snort and a giggle. No doubt she’s thinking about how hilarious it is that I am in fact, married to her.

I bite back a smile. “No, I’m not.”

My mother darts an uncertain look at Charlie, and I already know what she’s going to say even before she does.

“Of course, Kali and Charlie are the perfect couple, but?—”

“Were,” Charlie hisses.

“Heard you the first time,” I say at the exact same time.

My mother ignores us. “But you’re bothsingle. So…?” She looks from face to face, hope coloring her features.

Now this train has just veered from the “slightly eccentric” to the “insane asylum” track. I glance at my father, hoping he’ll weigh in on the ludicrousness of my mother’s suggestion, but he’s still engaged in a conversation with James. Charlie, on the other hand, is merely staring at my mother in confusion.

I open my mouth to say something, but Ariel gets there first. “Oh, Charlie is not going to go for Ken.”

I’m torn between amusement and surprise at her cavalier tone.

“You sound pretty sure about that,” I say, keeping my tone as light as I can make it. Charlie is stiffening beside me once more.

“Well, yeah.” Ariel takes another gulp. Her eyes are sparkling with something close to derision. “You see, Charlie is more like me than she’d like to admit.”

“I’m nothing like you, Mom.” Charlie’s voice is hard, almost snappish. Out of the corner of my eyes, I see my mother’s jaw drop.

Ariel doesn’t even seem perturbed. “Of course, you are,” she says, pouring a new glass. “You’re exactly like I was at your age. Could never settle for the nice guy. Had to be with theotherone.”

What…the hell?

I look between Charlie and her mother, thoughts exploding in my brain. They’re staring at each other, her mother’s gaze vindictive, Charlie’s furious.

Why do I get the sense that they’ve had this conversation before?

And fucking hell, whydo I feel like Ariel is the one on my side in this?

The silence stretches between the two women, taut and long. My mother’s still watching them, her jaw slack.

“What are you all talking about?” James shouts at us. His face is red with laughter. Thankfully, his interruption causes Charlie to look away from my mother. Ariel returns to her wine, and my mother makes a quick, hasty apology.

Confusion brims within my very soul. A strange, dark weight is spilling forth from within me, channeling me back all the way to my teenage years.

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