More than Once

23

I couldn’t fall for her. I couldn’t. There was too big of a chance she would rip my heart out, just like Tara had done. Becca made me feel more than I’d felt in months. Maybe ever. But falling for Becca would only give her the power to hurt me. If I felt this strongly about her after only a few days, what about in a few months? Or a year? When she walked away, as all my other girlfriends had done, how would I ever recover?

“Becca,” I started again, my voice rough. “I know we’re pretending to be together and all that, but like I said, I’m not looking for anything serious.”

Her body tensed up and she pulled back. “I know. You’ve made that very clear.” She laughed, but it sounded forced. “You’re just my fake boyfriend. Don’t worry. I wasn’t starting to believe it was real.”

Hearing the sharpness in her voice made my gut twist. God, I was being such a d**k, but this had to be done now so neither of us got hurt later. I took her chin, drawing her eyes back to mine with a smile. “Hey, I still want us to go on that date. I just don’t want you to get the wrong idea about where this is going.”

“It’s fine,” she said, but I could tell it wasn’t. “We can be f**k buddies and nothing else if that’s what you want.”

I wasn’t sure what I wanted anymore, but “f**k buddies” sounded so harsh compared to what we had together. I didn’t want her to think all I cared about was s*x. “It will be a real date, I promise. No f*****g has to happen, unless you want it to.”

“Oh, I’m pretty sure I will,” she said with the hint of a laugh.

I couldn’t help but grin at that. “Are you free tomorrow night?”

“That works.” She sighed and sat up, reaching for her clothes. “Now that I don’t have a job, my schedule is pretty damn open.”

“Again, I feel really bad about that. If there’s anything I can do—”

“I’ll figure something out, but thanks.” She gave me a sly smile. “If all else fails, I can always go back to stripping.”

Over my dead body, I wanted to say. Instead I coughed and said, “You were a stripper?”

“Sure. I told you I used to dance topless in bars. It paid well.” She pulled her dress back on. “And since we’re keeping it casual, I’m sure you won’t mind if other guys get a look at the goods, right?”

I swallowed hard and didn’t answer. She was teasing me, but her words had struck a nerve. I didn’t want any other guy looking at her body, thinking about all the things he wanted to do to her. I wanted her to be mine, and mine alone.

Yeah, I was in serious trouble.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

BECCA

I managed to sneak back to my bedroom with no one spotting me, and I took a quick shower while the rest of the house stirred and my parents arrived.

As the hot water washed over me, I replayed Andrew’s words while we were in bed, trying to get over the ache in my chest. I’d known from the beginning that he didn’t want anything serious, and I thought I’d been okay with that. But Andrew pretending to be my boyfriend had been so nice that I couldn’t help but wish, just a tiny bit, that it could be real.

He was the perfect package: smart, friendly, gorgeous, and amazing in bed. We’d only known each other a short time, but we had this intense connection that I’d never felt with anyone else. Even though we were complete opposites in every way, we got each other. Maybe because we both wanted to move on from our shitty pasts and start fresh. With Andrew, I thought maybe I could actually do it…if he ever wanted that, too. But from what he’d said this morning, that seemed unlikely.

Thirty minutes later, I met everyone downstairs wearing a red and black sweater over a pair of jeans. Andrew was stuck wearing his clothes from yesterday, although they were a bit rumpled and he’d skipped the tie today. He gave me a kiss on the cheek and a big smile, like everything was perfect between us. We were back to pretending.

We settled in the living room with some coffee and began to open presents. Hannah dashed around, grabbing gifts from under the tree and delivering them to their recipients, like some kind of Christmas pixie. She spent the rest of the time gleefully opening her own presents, throwing wrapping and ribbon around the room.

Andrew didn’t get any presents, of course, but he seemed content sitting beside me on the couch with his arm around my shoulders like we were an old married couple. Mom and Trish promised to send tons of leftovers home with him, too.

“But why aren’t you two exchanging presents?” my mom asked us.

I opened my mouth to answer, but didn’t have a good excuse. If he was really my boyfriend, we should have presents for each other. I wracked my brain but couldn’t think of a single thing to say.

Andrew tightened his arm around me and gave my mother a warm smile. “We have a date tomorrow night, and we’re exchanging presents then.”

“I bet we know what kind of presents those will be,” my sister said with a teasing grin. I shot her a threatening look, but our parents wisely ignored her comment.

After the presents were opened and the gift wrap cleaned up, Mom and Trish went into the kitchen to fix brunch. I offered to help, but they kicked me out and told me to go enjoy my morning with “Brett” instead of getting in their way. I huffed at them, but was secretly relieved—I was a terrible cook.