Plus one, p.6
Plus One, page 6
“But not as big as something else.” He winks like the devil and I avert my eyes to the paper in fear I’ll look at his package. It’s hard. Keeping my self-control intact that is.
“Regardless, I’m not signing this,” I act unaffected by his one liner. “And I don’t fart in my sleep,” I state.
“I’ll be judge of that,” he retorts.
He hands me the pen, a playboy smile on his face. Glaring at him I write another rule. An important rule.
Don’t play with Rae’s hair because Max’s sausage fingers smell like sweaty balls.
Then I sign it.
Looking at me suspiciously he takes the paper from me and looks over what I added.
“My fingers don’t smell like sweaty nuts,” he sounds offended.
“I’ll be the judge of that.” I raise a brow.
Not taking his eyes off me, he signs it.
“Why do I feel like this is your first big commitment?”
“I had a two-year cable plan and it went horribly wrong, after that… I second guess everything.” He flicks his gaze at me before finishing his signature.
I shrug in agreement. Those plans can be tricky.
“Now,” he rubs his hands together like he’s about to dig into an extra-large pizza. “We need to get to know each other. From our first lay, first kiss, what size bra you wear—”
“Whoa, I’m going to stop you there.” I hold my hand up, my eyes as wide as saucers. He smirks, that bright smile of his adorable, yet like nails on a chalkboard. He’s such a player this is going to be harder than I thought.
“Seriously though, we need to know things on a personal level. Things serious couples would know,” he says. “Things that normally bore me and I avoid at all costs,” he continues.
I furrow my brows at him and his Neanderthal ways of courting a woman.
“I agree about knowing some aspects of each other’s lives, but some things need to be left out to keep this platonic on our end,” I advise twirling the ends of my hair.
“We need to learn about each other’s families, what they like, what they don’t like—”
“My dad won’t like you, I know it.” I shake my head, imagining the questions my father will fire at him.
“Oh, you have no idea what you’re in for with my mother. She’s hard to please, and won’t like you instantly because she didn’t pick you out herself.” Skepticism bounces behind his eyes, and my face falls.
“What happened to she’ll go to the ends of the earth for you,” I respond sarcastically.
“Yeah, if she likes you.” His brows rise. “She won’t like you,” he chuckles.
My head falls forward, my hands dragging down my face.
“When is the wedding?” I ask on a sigh, lifting my head.
“A month,” he draws out. Like it’s a sentence to death.
“We should go out tomorrow and go over some small things. Being seen together as soon as possible will benefit us both,” I suggest.
“Good idea. Tomorrow is the town BBQ right?”
“Yeah, I think so,” I nod.
“I know my mother will be there, what about yours?” He stands from the bed, his body taking over the room. He’s so big and muscular. His golden skin looking even darker in the dim lighting.
“My mother does yoga at about six on Mondays, but she’ll be there. She’s never missed the town BBQ. She’s always trying to get me to go with her but I’m usually nursing a hangover, and can barely put my shoes on let alone doing a downward duck,” I admit shamelessly. Max shakes his head, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
“It’s downward dog. I’ll come pick you up and we’ll go on our first fake date at six then,” he informs, then holds his hand out. Reminding me there will be zero romance in any of this, which I am more than okay with.
I shake his hand. Sealing the deal. That damn hand taking over my own overwhelming me.
“This is just pretend, Rae. After the wedding we will break up and go our separate ways. Do you understand?” His condescending tone causes my eyes to snap to his.
“Trust me Max, I’m not the girl for you. Even if I was… I’m not looking for a man with an STD chart as long at the Declaration of Independence.”
His eyes shine like my insults intrigue him more than anger him.
“See you tomorrow, Rae.”
4
Rae
“You are not wearing that on your date!” Quinn looks at me horrified. Her mouth parted in disbelief as she studies me like a lab rat.
“Fake,” I remind her. “Fake date.”
Looking down at myself I take in my attire. Blue jeans with knees and thighs ripped, and my black off the shoulder shirt, my lime green bra strap showing.
“What is wrong with this?” I ask, holding my hands out. I don’t see the problem. “I’m even wearing underwear today,” I inform. Turning around, I look in the mirror. My blonde hair is spilling over one of my shoulders, and I even put on makeup today. Of course my idea of makeup is eyeliner, mascara, and a little eye shadow. I’ve tried to wear the liquid foundation and concealer crap but I feel like I’m wearing a suffocating mask.
“Okay, well, kudos for the panties, but I think you should look more… classy,” she blurts the last part out like she’d been holding it in.
I roll my eyes. “This is me, anything else would be lying.” I cross my arms and give a halfhearted chuckle.
“Yeah, but that is kind of the point. Didn’t he say his mother was hard to please?” she reminds me.
My eyes widen and panic begins to latch its claws into my chest. I forgot I have to please his mother in all this.
“Shit!” I start undressing myself. “I don’t think I have anything classy.”
“Let me go look in my closet. I think I had this one outfit my mother bought me to wear to church that one time.” She holds her finger up, as for me to stay put and she hustles to her room.
Undressing myself I exhale a ragged breath. I don’t think I realized how hard this was going to be. I haven’t given two shits what anyone has thought about me for so long that actually caring is exhausting.
Turning back to the mirror I observe my naked body. My hips are wider than anything, and my thighs are thicker than they let on. I grope my chest, turning to see what they would look like pushed up.
They’re enough to fit into the palms of my hands and nothing more, let’s hope whatever Quinn brings back doesn’t require boobage.
“Here, this is the best I can do.” Quinn rushes back into the room out of breath. She tosses some nude heels at me, and I barely catch one as the other flies by my head as she unbuttons a shirt looking dress hanging from a white hanger.
“Put a black bra on,” she juts her head toward my dresser. “That green one looks like Shrek threw up on your tits.” I laugh and shake my head. I find my silk black bra and put it on just as she finishes with the dress.
Slipping the dress on, the fabric drapes along my skin delicately, the material soft to the touch. Smoothing it down, I button it up. It reminds me of a man’s dress shirt, only longer. The front cuts a little low, and the sleeves roll up in a tasteful way. It skirts just above my knees, and actually looks cute. My blonde hair frames my oval face, and my brown eyes look darker than usual.
“I like it,” I admire, turning to see how my ass looks in the mirror. Not that Max will be looking at my ass, but a girl needs to know how her ass looks at all times, I think. “You’re not getting this back.” I glance over my shoulder at her, and she rolls her eyes.
“It’s too lumberjack for my taste anyway.”
I don’t think Quinn knows what being mother approved entitles. I haven’t seen her in anything more than a skimpy dress since I’ve known her. Hell, the maid of honor dress she was wearing took work. She kept pulling it down and pushing up her cleavage. She looked like an expensive hooker. But beautiful, nonetheless.
* * *
“You look good cleaned up,” Quinn compliments, her gaze growing soft as her eyes take me in.
“Thank you,” I mutter, turning back around to look at myself again.
“Are you going to the BBQ?” I ask on a sigh, hoping to have my wingman with me.
“Nope, it’s lady’s night at the Southern Fox. Think I’ll go find some lonely schmuck to buy me a drink,” she informs casually, picking a string off my shoulder. The poor bastards, they don’t know what’s coming for them tonight.
“All right, wish me luck,” I smile.
“Luck? Like you boning Max tonight? Or luck like, don’t trip on your heel and fall on your face?” she asks with a serious tone, her face lax.
“There will be no boning. Think of this like a business meeting. So let’s go with the kind of luck as in don’t eat too much and have gas for the rest of the night. ‘Kay?” I tilt my head to the side, and give an over the top smile that makes Quinn shake her head.
“You better hurry up staring-at-yourself-princess, he’ll be here soon,” she winks. Turning back to the mirror I suddenly feel sick.
My stomach is in knots, and my heart is hammering in my chest with a mix of excitement and fear.
For a fake date… this sure does feel real.
* * *
Max
Standing in front of the dirty mirror I adjust the collar of my unbuttoned red shirt. I can never get these damn things just right. One side is either sticking up, or they’re wrinkled.
My eyes fall to a stain on my shirt. I rub at it, but it’s just making it worse. Maybe from the nachos I had earlier?
Shrugging it off I pull a dark green shirt on, the material stretching around my chest as I pull it down. Slicking my hair back, I find my blue ball hat and tug it on my head.
Placing my hands on the counter I lean over the sink, contemplating whether or not I should shave. I normally do every other day, otherwise I start looking more caveman than I would like.
Nah. Chicks dig the scruff right? Not that Rae will though.
This isn’t a real date, so who cares. I’ve never cared before.
I freeze, looking into the mirror. I’m not sure what the hell I’ve done, this has got to be my lowest point.
Damn, making this deal with her was a bad idea. Especially making those damn rules which will be nearly impossible not to break. She said no kissing, so naturally I want to smash that damn rule first.
She’s quirky, funny, witty, and has a body I could fuck into my memory foam mattress and then dry hump the shit out of after she was long gone.
What? My eyes widen with that thought. That one surprised me and I don’t often surprise myself with the shit that is thought up in my head.
Grabbing my keys off the kitchen counter I head out.
This is a fake date with rules I made to keep her from becoming even more emotionally damaged after everything's said and done. Running into her wasn’t the plan, but when I saw her I couldn’t push my past away to see anything other than the end result.
She’ll hate me when we get to that point, but I don’t know her and she doesn’t know me so what does it matter? She doesn’t know what I’ve been through, hell, nobody does.
I’ll play by the rules until the wedding, and then we’ll go our separate ways.
* * *
Piece of fucking cake.
* * *
“About time! You’re late!” Quinn barks, upon opening the door. Her red hair braided in pigtails, with her hand on her hip.
“I am?” I flinch, looking at my phone. I’m a minute late. Seriously?
Rae comes rushing out of the back room and I do a double take. My brows lift on their own accord as I watch her move. Her hair is flowing down her shoulders in an abundance of silky blonde waves. A red and blue plaid dress skirts around her supple thighs, with long tanned legs that seem to go on for days before fitting effortlessly into a pair of nude pumps. Turning my head, I close my eyes and run my palms along my chin. Trying to get ahold of myself. It’s a beautiful woman, Max. Big deal.
But all I see are those sexy heels on my shoulders while I’m…
“Hey!” Rae greets with beautiful eyes, and white smile.
“Hey!” I blurt like an idiot; nervous she knows what I’m thinking. Sliding my hand along the door I hold it open for her.
“Later Quinn!” Rae hollers over her shoulder as she walks out.
Striding behind her I can’t help but notice her ass sway back and forth, and I have to bite my inner lip to keep from making a suggestive comment. My eyes pop back up, glued to it like a vortex. An ass swinging vortex my hands desperately want to grab onto.
“Does your ass normally swing like that, or is it just for me?” I close my eyes, pissed I couldn’t control myself.
Her heels skid to a stop, and she looks over her shoulder with hooded eyes.
“It’s natural, sorry if you thought it was you.” She gives a condescending smile and I feel it all the way to my balls. I lift a brow at her. A little confused if she’s just being a brat or if she finds me attractive at all. This would be a first, that a woman wasn’t attracted to me.
Then again, Rae is one of a kind. I remember the first time I saw her at that wedding. I was jealous of Jacob and I knew immediately she was too good for him. Especially after he told me he screwed the wedding planner the day before the wedding.
Me taking Rae and running away with her was the nail in mine and Jacob’s relationship and I couldn’t be happier about it. He deserves much worse, and if karma has anything to do about it he will soon.
Climbing inside, I start the truck and we head to the BBQ.
“So, my mom is nosey. Try not to engage in conversation too much,” she informs. “She’s very good at reading body language.”
“Mine is too. Keep it simple and follow my lead,” I suggest. My mom will have you turned around in your own lie before you even know it.
She rubs her forehead with a shaky hand; she’s nervous.
“We’ll go, make our appearance, and split. It’ll be fine,” I try to reassure her. Reaching over, I cup her hand, and her eyes drop to our joined palms. My heart slams against my ribcage.
I jerk my hand away, not realizing the impact of my actions. I’m using Rae as a date, not wanting her to fall in love with me.
“We need to remember the rules,” she breathes heavily, looking out the window.
“Agreed,” I growl. Angry at myself for letting my other head do the thinking.
If I don’t get it together I’m going to ruin this.
Driving into the parking lot of the park, my knuckles turn white with the heavy grip of my hands on the steering wheel. I’ve never flaunted a girlfriend before, not in a while anyway, and the idea of it now is making me uneasy.
Turning the truck off, we both glance at each other, our bodies wound tight.
“You ready?” I ask heavily. Closing her eyes, she nods.
Getting out of the truck, I walk to her side of the truck to be a gentleman and open her door but she beat me to it, and gets out. One heel stepping out effortlessly before the next.
Awkwardly I grab her hand for the purpose of show and nothing more, and her fingers interlock in-between mine. It’s fake, nothing like when I held her hand inside the truck but the contact still has my eyes sweeping over her sexy body with sinful thoughts.
Her eyes meet mine, a lust holding over them as she squeezes my hand.
* * *
Strutting past groups of people, I can’t help but notice the lingering looks, the ducked heads as they whisper into one another’s ears as we head toward a picnic table.
“Looks like the town has something to gossip about,” Rae observes, sitting on a bench of a picnic table. Her tone suggesting she doesn’t care, but you can see it in her eyes she does.
I feel the need to say something to reassure her everything is okay. Clasping my hands in front of me I look at her and watch her examine a laminated menu that was placed on the table. Her top teeth tugging her bottom lip into her mouth.
I blink rapidly trying to clear my head of visions of bending her over this table. I need to stop trying to play good guy with her, it’s confusing things.
“I haven’t come to one of these in years. I wonder what’s good,” she mumbles under her breath.
“Pretty much anything. It’s BBQ,” I respond dryly, her eyes cut to mine.
“Hey Rae! Fancy seeing you here!” A mousey looking lady greets Rae. I’ve never seen her before, but she seems to know Rae. She’s round all over and wearing a flowered dress. Her hair rolled into curls so tight it’s giving me a headache.
“Oh hey, Mrs. Kelly!” Rae smiles at her.
“Don’t you look gorgeous!” Rae blushes, looking at me with expectant eyes, as if she’s waiting for me to compliment her on her attire too.
I look back down at my menu, not indulging in her games.
This is business. Nothing more.
I hear her sigh heavily, confirming she’s pissed I didn’t say anything about how she looks.
Something she needs to learn is this isn’t real, I’m not a gentleman, and I don’t care about other’s feelings.
“Who is this?” Mrs. Kelly asks, her warm wrinkled eyes smiling my way.
“This is Max,” Rae introduces. I grin, holding my hand out.
“Nice to meet you.” I give a curt nod.
“Pleasure,” she smiles wildly. “Well, I better go find Frank. Lord knows what happens if he has too many beans.” She gives a sour face that makes Rae laugh so I give a weak attempt at one myself as Mrs. Kelly turns around and waddles herself back into the crowd.
“That’s my boss’s wife. Thank you for being nice.” Rae says.
“I was just doing my part, Rae,” my tone a reminder that she is taking this personally. In return Rae looks at me with an angry look.
“Got it, no need to be a dick to get a point across that I’m already well aware of. If I didn’t know any better I’d say you just like the sound of your own voice.” She tilts her head to the side, her dark eyes narrowing.
