Page 27 of Faking Romance

Roxy and Hutch nod as I open the door. I punch a code into his alarm, hoping he hasn’t changed it. It disarms and Roxy gasps as she looks at the enormous tank along the far wall of the living room. She slowly walks over and examines it. The tank has some corals and a few little fish, but it’s the half dozen sea anemones that pique her interest. I watch as she leans forward to examine them.

I lean down next to her and she jumps and clutches her chest.

“Christ! Don’t scare me like that,” she breathes.

I put a hand on her back as she stands, guiding her toward the kitchen.

“The leak could be in here. Let’s make sure. Hutch, check the bathrooms, please,” I say. Once we are clear of Hutch, I lean forward. “Let’s go out tomorrow night and discuss things,” I say in a low voice.

“OK. It’ll have to be later,” she whispers and looks past my shoulder. I glance behind me, but Hutch isn’t there yet.

“That’s fine. Text me when you’re available and I’ll send you an address of a bar. It’s a few streets over, but no one from here goes there. They don’t like the drink menu,” I explain.

She gives me a pointed look. “So why arewegoing there?”

“Because we won’t be caught. Unless you want to tell everyone.” I motion toward Hutch.

She shrugs. “OK. I…let’s discuss it then. I hadn’t really thought about what we tell other people.” She hadn’t? I’m an idiot. Of course, she hadn’t. Why would she? She’s starting to get to know everyone here. I don’t like keeping things from my friends, but I also am afraid of what they’ll say if they know. It’s bad enough that Al knows. Everyone knowing would make all of this ten times more awkward.

“Guys? If Kasen is abroad, why is his passport sitting here on his dresser?” Hutch’s voice calls out from the bedroom, interrupting our conversation.

We both turn and head toward Hutch.

He’s holding a passport open to Kasen’s face.

I take it from him and frown. “That’s strange. Maybe he forgot it?”

Hutch gives me a pointed look. “Right. Because he could totally get into another country legally without a passport.”

Roxy shrugs. “Maybe he’s not in another country.”

“Come on. I don’t see anything else. And if he’s texted Al, then we at least know he’s OK,” I say as I usher them both to the front door. I look around once more and see nothing out of place. Hopefully, Kasen will get back to me and everyone can get back to focusing on the mystery of the bench flowers instead of Kasen’s whereabouts.

I follow Roxy up the stairs, watching her ass sway with each step. This woman has surprised the hell out of me. I didn’t think I’d like her, but now, I sort of wish I could take her on a real date because the more I get to know her, the more I realize I do like her. I hope this fake-dating thing doesn’t fuck things up between us. Part of me wishes I could tell everyone and get their advice. Keeping this a secret is going to be a nightmare.

CHAPTERELEVEN

Roxy

“His passport is still there,” Hutch announces as we exit the stairwell.

“Say what? I thought he was abroad, like in Sweden or Italy or something,” Drew says. I walk through the door and find everyone looking toward us with their mouths gaping. Even Al looks a little surprised.

Gray comes up behind me. I feel the heat of his body against my back, and for reasons I can’t explain, goose bumps form on my arms. I rub them and step to the side, not wanting to explore why I was loving him there.

“First off, Drew, those aren’t even near each other. Secondly, Al, I thought you said he was abroad for his contract work,” Gray states, his arm brushing mine. I feel like a schoolgirl with a crush. I want him to touch me. Fuck, I’m being ridiculous. Gray is just my neighbor and myfake boyfriend. Nothing more is going to come of that.

“That’s it. We need a s’mores night. I’m texting Kasen again,” Gray adds as he walks over to the bar. I follow him, leaning toward Hutch as I walk. Ava cheers and Cam gives her a high five.

“What’s a s’mores night?” I whisper.

Hutch chuckles and wraps a giant arm around my shoulder. “Well, some nights, our happy hour goes a little late. We turn on the fire pit and make s’mores. If you’re lucky, we can get Gray to play us some music.”

“I’ll get out the s’mores stuff,” Al says.

“I’ll grab my cello,” Gray offers as he turns back toward the door.

“Wow, live music and chocolate. This place is way better than Al described,” I joke.

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