Page 17 of The Pucking Fake Marriage

I’m almost amused. Like I could forget the most harrowing event of my life.

“She dated your brother, rejected you when you made a pass, thencanceled you for ten years. She sees you in Las Vegas, has a one nighter with you and disappears again. She didn’t even thank you for saving her from that madman in her restaurant. Bro, when will you get the memo that she’s not into you? There’re, like, a million girls in this city alone who’d love to suck your dick.”

I feel a leap of fury when I think of Kali and his trashy treatment of Charlie for years. I stomp down on the feeling before it takes even more control of me.

“I see your point,” I admit. He’s right. I’ve never fully accepted why Charlie went from being my friend to ghosting me after I confessed my love to her. I figured it had something to do with Kali breaking up with her a year later. But right now, I don’t care. That was a long time ago, and she holds a different fascination for me now.

And judging from how we reconnected back in Las Vegas, the feeling is mutual.

“I came to this gym because I pitied you,” Blake says, giving me a look. “Thought you might need a distraction, maybe till you figure out why you’re playing so badly. But I’m going to be honest. She’s not going to fall for you because you grew pecs.”

“Las Vegas…”

“She was probably bored and drunk.”

I resist the urge to punch him. Blake’s merely speaking as a friend. I’d probably be saying the same thing if I was in his shoes. But I know better now. I’m not the insecure boy I was ten years ago.

This thing with Charlie is going to happen again. Maybe only once, just to pay her back for running off on me. But Iwillfuck her again.

And this time, it’s going to be on my terms.

I will finish this workout, then head over to her restaurant. The day is going to end with me having Charlie in her own kitchen. The image of bending her over a counter, her tits press against the cold surface, hasn’t left me since this morning.

Damn it,I think, gripping the handlebar. Drops of sweat form on my forehead, but not from the workout.

She did a number on me in Las Vegas. Maybe even worse than the one she did to me as a teenager. The charm she had back then had me hung up on her like an addict. Now, I’m going to unravel her the only way I know how.

Through copious amounts of dick.

Blake whistles, pulling my thoughts back to him.

“Looks like your foolish plan might work,” he murmurs, looking at a spot behind me.

I turn around, my chest tightening. Charlie is walking into the gym, a mat rolled up underneath one arm. Her black hair is in a loose knot on the top of her head, exposing the soft angles of her face. She’s wearing a tank top and—my stomach tightens—a pair of leggings that cling to her thighs and hips like a second skin. Her cleavage is thrust out of the too-small sports bra nearly as far as it can go without outright spilling out.

Just seeing her looking like that makes me hard. The scene in my head also changes its setting from her kitchen to the gym bathroom.

She hasn’t caught sight of me yet. I step off the treadmill and start to move in her direction. Or at least, I’m about to do that…

When she heads straight for the weights rack, toward a man who’s just getting off the bench press, wiping the sweat on his arms with his towel.

“Hi!” Charlie’s perky voice fills the large space. Half of her face is visible to me, and I can see the broad grin plastered on it. She cocks her head to the side as the man looks at her. Her hand goes to her hair, untangling one of the locks from the bun and curling it around a finger.

A strong wave of déjà vu hits me. I’d seen teenage Charlie do that before, a million times, in fact.

It was what she did when she was with Kali. Toying with her hair, grinning like that,flirting…

“Oh, so that’s how she looks when she actually likesthe person she’s talking to,” Blake says, amusement lining his voice. He’s stepped off the treadmill, watching Charlie with curiosity. I note in fury that Blake has never seen Charlie smile that much, not at me, anyway. Nor have I, since we were kids.

“Shut up,” I spit through gritted teeth. My stomach is frothing with rage. Yeah, I have absolutely no right to be mad.

But damn it, she’s mine. She’s mine until that Las Vegas shit gets out of my system. Then she’s free to go back to fucking with someone else’s head.

Within reason,I add, focusing on the man standing in front of Charlie, conversing with her in low tones. It surprises me that she might be into him. He’s ripped, but middle-aged with silver strands lining his full head of hair. Also, is it my imagination or does he look almost bored? I try to listen, but she’s speaking in much lower tones, and the steady hustle and bustle from other gym goers make it damn near impossible to make out a single word.

Blake clamps a hand on my shoulder. “Let it go, man.Really, I’m sorry this happened, but you’ve got to understand that watching her like this is creepy.” He still sounds very much amused.

I shrug off his hand. “Then I’m going to stopwatching.”

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