Page 23 of Win You Over
Groaning, I run a hand over my face, flinching when I brush it over the bruise on the side of my jaw. I need to shower, shave, eat and then deal with whatever awaits me in the basement, but first…
Me: Good morning boyfriend. Sleep well?
Staring at my phone, I watch the little ticks change colour, grinning as I picture Holden reading my message. His button nose scrunched up in annoyance, whiskey brown eyes soft from sleep, hair rumpled and skin smelling like sweat and sweet dreams. And…now my dick’s perking up.
Playing fake boyfriends is going to be hard…and not the good kind of hard either.
Throwing my legs over the side of the bed, I rest my feet on the ground, the carpet soft between my toes.
I wait for a minute, then two, then five and still no reply.
Frowning, I type out another message.
Me: Hellooooo?
When he still hasn’t replied after ten minutes of me staring aimlessly at my phone, I get up and walk into my en suite, groaning at the ache in my muscles. The gnawing feeling that I’ve fucked this up already, settling in the pit of my stomach.
I start the shower, then turn my back to the spray to type out yet another message. The room fills with the sound of water hitting tiles and the air turns hazy with steam, a slight condensation settling over my phone screen.
Me: I’m sorry about last night. It was rude of me to ditch you like that. I’ll make it up to you. Forgive me, please?
The tick marks turn blue, showing the message was delivered, but when he doesn’t reply, I sigh, lean the phone on the counter and climb into the shower. Day one of fake boyfriends and I have sent it all to shit already.
In the shower, the hot, powerful spray of the jets work wonders on my aches and pains but does little to ease my mind. I can’t exactly blame him for ignoring me. It’s not really any different to what I did to him last night. Fuck.
Wiping a hand over my face, I tip my head back and let the water cascade down my body before soaping up and washing my hair. When I’m done, I dry up, grab my phone and then throw on grey athletic shorts and a tight white tank top.
When I sit on my bed, I notice there’s a reply from Holden. Finally.
Angry Kitty:You don’t owe me an apology. I didn’t expect you to stay with me. FAKE boyfriends, remember? Not real.
Me:Still, I’m sorry, Kitty Cat.
Angry Kitty: Nope. None of that. No pet names. No terms of endearment. We’re not going to be that kind of couple. Fake or not.
My lips tip into a grin. Pet names are kind of my thing, so he has another thing coming if he thinks he’s getting away without one.
Me: You sure,leeutjie? I have so many fun names for you.
Me:I just had the best idea. We need a ship name.
Angry Kitty:Not happening. Not only is our relationship a sham, we’re not thirteen.
I ignore his spoilsport attitude as I lean back against my headboard and type out a reply.
Me:Holdington has a cute ring to it. Or Remingden.
Angry Kitty: If you refer to us using either of those names, I will hurt you.
Me:Like in a fun way?
I’d like him to hurt me in the way that gets my blood pounding in my veins, but I’ll keep that little nugget of truth to myself.
Angry Kitty:I’m going back to ignoring you.
Well that just won’t do.
Me:Fine, you win. No ship name. You coming over soon to finish this project and hang out? (You can’t say no to hanging out because that’s something boyfriends do, so…)
