Single And In Love With My Fake Boyfriend (Single Girls Club #1)

Chapter Twenty-Five

Lincoln

I can’t stop thinking about the girl sitting on my couch. I’m glad Callie is here. Not only because she’s safe from the rain and flood, but because I like being around her. I hope she feels comfortable in my house.

And I also can’t get the image of her wearing my shirt out of my head. I feel like there’s something special when a girl wears a guy’s shirt. But does it have any meaning when she’s a fake girlfriend?

Shaking my head, I reach for the shampoo and drop a glob on my head. She used my soap and shampoo. Something a real girlfriend would do. I actually wouldn’t mind if she came over more often, used my shampoo, wore my shirts…

Shutting my eyes and letting out a deep breath, I wonder what the heck is wrong with me. Feeling confusing things about my fake girlfriend? Wishing she’d be…what? More than that?

I like talking to her, spending time with her, seeing her laugh, and talking about her interests. She’s kind and sweet and beautiful and smart. She makes me feel like I can be completely myself.

Those are my requirements for my special woman.

But I can’t think of her like that. It’ll only hurt when we go our separate ways.

After I finish showering, I throw on a T-shirt and pajama bottoms and join Callie in the living room. She’s got a couch cushion on her lap, her eyes focused on the TV. I don’t think she notices me come in until I lower myself next to her.

“Is that good?” I ask.

She shrugs. “I don’t know. It’s supposed to be a romance, but the hero and heroine haven’t even met yet. And the episode is almost over.”

“Must be a slow romance.”

“Maybe. We don’t have to watch this if you don’t want to. It’s your house and you should pick whatever you want.”

I roll my shoulders. “I don’t watch much TV, other than games, so I don’t mind what we watch. Besides, you’re my guest.”

“Guest? More like a refugee from the rain.”

“I prefer guest. And as my guest, you’re free to do whatever you want.”

She slams the cushion into my chest. “Like start a cushion fight?” She’s wearing a playful smile on her face that makes this warm feeling wash over me.

Also smiling, I grab a cushion and lightly whack it into her face. “Have to warn you—I’m a master of pillow fights.”

She slams hers into my face. “You wish.”

We hit each other with our cushions. Callie’s striking hard, and for a second, I wonder if I should go easy on her. But I know she wouldn’t like it. So I give her everything I have, though I’m careful not to hurt her.

Because I’m bigger, I overwhelm her and she’s pressed to the back of the couch with nowhere to go. My face is only inches from hers as I smile mischievously. “Told you I’m the master.”

She places her hands on my chest, trying to push me back, but she doesn’t manage to even move me a centimeter.

“Darn you and your strength,” she mutters.

I bend even closer to her, my smile widening. I’m very well aware of how close her lips are to mine and I’m trying hard not to let my eyes wander to them. Callie’s gaze does drop to my lips for a second before she looks into my eyes.

My chest heaves as I stare into hers. I can feel her soft breaths on my face as my eyes drop to her lips. All I have to do is move a tiny bit and my lips would swallow hers.

“You’re supposed to let your guest win,” she says with such an adorable giggle that could destroy all the pain and suffering in the world.

I tuck some hair behind her ear as I whisper, “You’re so beautiful, Callie.”

Her eyes widen. “W-what?”

My hand moves to cup her cheek. It’s so soft and warm. “You’re beautiful, both inside and out. I just wanted to tell you that you’ve become very special to me.” When panic flashes across her eyes, I quickly add, “As a friend. My very good friend.”

I’m not going to lie. Her reaction stings a little. Okay, a lot. What exactly was I trying to do? Admit that I have feelings for her that go beyond friendship? Of course she’d panic. I’m not supposed to feel that way about her. We’re in a fake relationship. And it’s selfish of me to want more than friendship when she’s still recovering from her cheating ex.

Clearing my throat, I drop my hand from her cheek and back away from her.

She presses her cushion to her chest as she focuses on the TV. The episode ended long ago and the next one is queued up.

“Want to watch this or…?” I ask her.

Her fingers play with her hair. “Um, sure. If you want.”

“I want whatever you want. Really, Callie, I’m good with whatever.”

“Okay.” She starts the next episode.

We’re quiet as we watch. There’s an awkwardness between us that I don’t like. And I doubt she likes it, either. I shouldn’t have messed everything up.

Shifting in my seat, I turn to her. “Sorry if I hurt you.”

“You didn’t hurt me.”

“With the cushion. If I hit you too hard or…”

She shakes her head. “No, you didn’t hurt me at all.”

“Okay. Good. I’m glad.”

She gives me a small smile before returning to her show. I try to watch it, but I can’t pay attention. I keep replaying what happened between us over and over in my head. And I keep mentally reprimanding myself. I never meant to make her uncomfortable.

“I’ll get snacks.” I shoot to my feet and head to the kitchen. Bending over the counter, I close my eyes and release a heavy breath.

I need to push my confusing feelings about Callie out of my head and focus on what’s important. Football, my career, our fake relationship. I’m not sure I can just erase my feelings for her when she’s literally right beside me, but I can’t only think of myself here. I need to consider her feelings. And she clearly just wants to be friends or fake date. Seeing her panic like that does not make me feel good.

“Lincoln?” Callie asks.

Lifting my head, I find her standing in the doorway, a concerned look on her face. “Hey,” I say.

“Hi. I was wondering if you got lost getting the snacks,” she says with a light laugh.

“No. I’m coming.”

She steps closer to me, and I immediately want to get close to her. To wrap my arms around her and just hold her.

“Need help carrying all that?” she asks, pointing at the snacks I dumped on the table.

“Sure.”

We grab as many as we can and return to the living room. Callie frowns at the TV. “They still haven’t met! Can you believe it?”

“Maybe in episode three?”

She starts the next episode. “I’m giving this show one more chance, but if they don’t meet in this episode, I’m done.”

We stuff our faces with snacks as we continue watching. “This show is kind of boring,” Callie says. “They finally meet, but they have no chemistry.”

“Want to watch something else?”

“Not yet. I want to give it another chance.”

She’s right that the show is boring. I’m not really enjoying myself and my thoughts wander to what happened between us less than an hour ago. About the kiss that could have happened. And about the kiss that did happen. I haven’t forgotten it for a moment.

As I reach for more snacks from the table, I notice Callie’s head is turned away from me. When I bend closer, I realize that her eyes are shut and she’s breathing softly.

She’s sleeping.

The show must have been so boring for her that it knocked her out.

I smile as I watch her. She looks so peaceful, so angelic when she sleeps. It’s like she floated to a dream world where she’s having the time of her life.

Although a bed would be more comfortable, I don’t want to wake her. And I certainly won’t carry her to bed.

Getting to my feet, I shut the TV, grab a blanket from the closet, and carefully throw it over her. Then I sit down next to her with my own blanket. I’ll stay by her side in case she wakes up and is confused where she is. I don’t want to leave her alone.

Before I shut my eyes, I watch her for a bit, loving how she looks when she sleeps. But I don’t want to be a creep, so I close my eyes and try to get some sleep.