Page 34 of We Can't Be Friends

“Well?”

“I need a fake girlfriend.”

“You can’t find a real one?”

He cocks his head, glowering at me. “I tried, but you scared her off.”

“I’ll go get her back, but I think you’d rather watch paint dry than keep talking with her. Am I right?”

“Yeah.”

“Thought so.” I take another drink of my wine. Sipping and swallowing slowly, letting his gaze heat. “You do realize you told me I wasn’t your type.”

“I lied.”

“Also thought that. Explain yourself, and I’ll think about it.” Cal gives me the 4-1-1 on his dilemma. The series of unfortunate dates he’s been set up on and how he needs to find someone to pretend to be his date to appease his mother.

It’s all comical.

“Henry,” he groans. I smirk devilishly.

“You need to work on your begging. A woman loves a man on his knees.”

“Is that what you want? Me to beg?” He takes my glass of wine from my fingers. “On my knees for you.” Holding my gaze he spins the glass to where my mouth was, planting his lips there and taking a drink. “Have been curious about what you taste like. Sweet? Spicy?”

We find ourselves in a staring contest.

“You’re blushing.”

“Am not.”

“Cheeks are quite red.”

“Makeup.”

“I think you’ve also been wanting a taste, even while you were dating that prick. Maybe you should beg.”

“As if.”

It’s not that I thought about Cal while my relationship was crumbling beneath me. I was more curious about what being with someone like him would be like. No immediate red flags. Kindness and large hands. A calculated mind.

He’s getting the higher ground.

This is not okay.

Scooting the chair back, my purse hanging from my shoulder. I get up to leave. Walking by him, I stop. Lean down so mouthgrazes his ear.

“Nice try, Pretty Boy, but I don’t beg. If you need a girlfriend, try harder next time.”

I pat his shoulder and walk away, fully aware of the swing of my hips and his gaze heating my back. The idea is enticing and I kind of hope he asks again.

***

“Earth to Chloe,” Emerson says, waving a hand in front of my face. “Did you hear anything I was saying?”

“No.” I give her an apologetic smile. “What were we talking about?”

“My birthday.”

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