This is a fake proposal. Of course, it is.
My rational mind knows that, but my lizard brain is melting down like a rom-com heroine in the final scene of the movie.
I actually have to suppress the urge to grin like an idiot as I mutter, “You’ve got to be kidding me,” and fight like hell to pretend the sight of this gorgeous man on one knee for me isn’t doing stupid things to my heart.
“Come on,” he says, his smile widening as the people at the pumps behind us notice what’s happening. Coos of excitement rise from the onlookers, proving we’re all suckers for a proposal, no matter how many times we’ve seen marriages go sour. “If a fake boyfriend is good, a fake fiancé should be even better, right? Your gram will know we’re serious from the start.”
“Where did you even get that? Do you just…carry around an engagement ring in your pocket in case of emergencies?”
He nods toward the gas station. “Nah. Bargain Bob did me a solid. It’s cubic zirconia, but as long as no one in your family is a professional jeweler, they shouldn’t notice the difference.” He winks. “But don’t worry, I’ll get you a real one when you decide you love being my fake fiancée so much you want to stop playing games and make this shit official.”
“Ha. Ha. You’re hysterical,” I say with a shake of my head that sends a dismayed gasp through our audience.
Realizing they must think I’m telling Derrick “no,” and are probably planning to come shower him with offers to help hump away his broken heart—at least some of those women have to be single and eager to poach my allegedly heartbroken and completely yummy pretend boyfriend—I force a smile and hold out my left hand. “But yes. I’ll be your fake fiancée. Again, with the caveat that we can’t seem too happy in front of my parents. As long as we make sure my mother gets at least an inkling that we might be wrong for each other, we’ll be able to call this off without any unnecessary drama.”
He smirks. “Not exactly the enthusiastic acceptance I was hoping for, but I’ll take it.”
I snort, fighting another goofy grin as he slides the ring on my finger, refusing to find meaning in the fact that it’s a perfect fit. “Sorry, I’m all out of happy tears and girly squeals today.”
“Are you sure?” he asks.
Before I can reply, he’s up off his knee, sweeping me into his arms. One of his hands fists in my hair and the other locks around my waist as he pulls me in tight for a kiss I feel from my head to my toes and everywhere in between.
I gasp and his tongue sweeps in to spar with mine. And damn it, his mouth is every bit as delicious as I remember. He tastes like salt and peppermint and forbidden adventures you know are bad news, but you can’t stop yourself from jumping on the back of the motorcycle and letting that tall, sexy stranger take you for a ride.
God, I want Derrick to take me for a ride.
I want it so bad it’s all I can do not to start rubbing against him like a cat in heat, right in front of Bargain Bob’s gas station and the patrons currently applauding my fake engagement.
If only I’d managed to ditch my V-Card, I’d be primed to jump into a frenemies-with-benefits situation with Derrick without a second thought. I bet he’s great at casual sex and would have no problem making me come for a week and then forgetting we crossed that line as soon as we started home next Saturday.
But I didn’t ditch my V-Card and this kiss isn’t just insanely hot—it’s a warning.
One I would be a fool to ignore.
If Derrick can get me this worked up with a kiss, I can only imagine what he could do with his mouth all over me and his hands hot on my skin and his cock teaching me all the things I’ve been missing out on as one of New York’s oldest living virgins. I’d be all but guaranteed to catch a nasty case of First Dick Fever.
But unlike my mother, sister, and cousin, my FDF would end in heartbreak.
Derrick may kiss like he can’t get enough of me, but he absolutely can. He doesn’t actually like me. He tolerates me because he adores his sister, and I’m her best and oldest friend. And sure, we’ve been getting along better today than we usually do, but we’ve only been in the car for forty-five minutes.
There’s still plenty of time for him to remember how intolerable he finds me and vice versa.
But if we take this any further than a steamy stolen kiss or two, I have a feeling it won’t matter how obnoxious Derrick is. I’ll end up falling for him and breaking my own heart in the process. Not to mention the shame and mortification that would accompany an unrequited crush on a man I’ve made it my job to tease, torment, or ignore for the past six years.