Page 11 of Fake It For Him

Joe came to their rescue, pouring them each a glass of water as he joined me again. Meanwhile, I couldn’t stop staring at Ella, who had yet to say a word. She hadn’t stopped staring at me either, not even to take her drink, and I wondered what was going on behind those sparkling eyes.

It’d been just about four years since our night together in Edinburgh, but I’d never forgotten about my Good Samaritan—and judging by the stunned silence and the way those eyes were glued to mine, I was damn sure she hadn’t forgotten about me either.

6

ELLA

I never thought I’d see this guy again. The last time I had seen him had been in the tiny double bed in my hostel in Edinburgh. Of course, I hadn’t known his name at the time and I kind of wished I didn’t know it now either, but I’d heard it when he introduced himself to Mikey.

That night had been the biggest mistake I’d ever made, and one I’d lived to regret ever since. I’d had one of the best sexual experiences of my life, and like some naïve schoolgirl, I’d thought we’d wake up together in the morning. Maybe even grab a cup of coffee before he left and get to know each other a little bit better.

When we’d gone up to my room, I’d known we had chemistry and I’d known that it was just a one-night stand, but once we’d gotten up there, things had changed. What we’d done hadn’t been impersonal or just some quick romp. It’d been intense and oh so real, and he’d whispered all sorts of delicious, possessive things in my ears. Things about how I was his and how he was going to make sure I knew it. Things about how he was going to get to know me inside and out. Find out what made me tick and give me everything I wanted.

Somewhere in the aftermath of what had happened, I’d realized he’d probably only meant all that in the sexual sense, but it hadn’t felt like that to me at the time. Perhaps it’d been because of my lack of experience, but damn, the way he’d looked into my eyes while he’d made love to me. How he’d held me after and pressed soft kisses to my hair. It just hadn’t felt like it had been nothing, but by the time I woke up the next morning, he’d been gone and I’d felt small and used.

Calan looked at me now, those glittering dark eyes filled with surprise and laughter as he nudged my shot closer. “Are you going to drink that?”

“No.”

He chuckled, black eyebrows rising slightly on his forehead as his chin tucked in a little. “Wait, are you sour after being loved and left back in Edinburgh?”

Mikey and Kara gasped, but they were so close that they often shared reactions like that, and then Kara leaned in, her voice still too loud even though I was pretty sure she’d intended to whisper. “This is the Scotland guy?”

“What Scotland guy?” Mikey asked as he leaned in too, clearly having heard her without any problems at all—which meant Calan had probably heard her too. “I don’t remember the story about the Scotland guy. Did you guys talk about it without me?”

“No.” Kara smacked his bicep, swinging those big eyes to him.

Thankfully, as she turned to give Mikey her full attention, she seemed to notice that Calan was watching her too and she pushed up on her toes to catch up our friend, whispering for real this time.

Meanwhile, I scoffed and gave my little head a shake as I looked into those deep black pools of heartless tar that were Calan’s eyes. “You sure had a nice way of thanking me for helping you with your busted face.”

He smirked. “If memory serves, I had a very nice way of thanking you. Three times, was it? Four?”

My cheeks flushed so hot I probably could’ve fried a damn egg on them, but I glowered at him anyway, unwilling to back down. “And yet, after all that, you bailed before dawn.”

Calan shrugged. “I’m not a morning person. Besides, I told you I had a flight.”

The bartender next to him grimaced, but he’d also been watching me with a weirdly intent look on his face since we’d come up to the bar, and he slapped a hand on Calan’s shoulder now. He leaned in, still watching me as intently, and muttered something I couldn’t hear to his boss.

Calan shrugged him off too, though. At least it’s not just me. It seems he’s that dismissive to everybody.

I caught the bartender’s eye as he exhaled so deeply I saw his chest fall with the movement, and he gave me what felt like a strangely apologetic smile. Wow. What a jerk.

Although to be friends with a guy like Calan, I supposed he had to be used to faking sympathy for the horde of girls the man left in his wake. I lifted my chin and brought my gaze back to Calan’s, then pressed the pads of my thumb and forefinger against the little glass and pushed it back to him.

“I don’t want anything from you. Not even a drink.”

Okay, maybe I was being a little bit unfair, but I felt the way I felt. He’d hurt my feelings—really did a number on me actually—and I didn’t have to let him in just because we’d run into each other at some club.

On my first night back. What rotten freaking luck.

His gaze darted down to the whiskey before it slowly came back up to mine, and for just a moment, I thought he might apologize. I thought I might finally get an explanation for why’d he’d disappeared on me after all that, but after staring at me for another beat, he rolled his eyes.

“Don’t be so dramatic, Ella. We had fun together, didn’t we? It was what it was. It’s not like I promised you anything.”

My mouth opened, but there was no point in arguing about it. It was in the past, and technically, he wasn’t wrong. He hadn’t promised me anything. He’d just made me believe there was more to it once he’d gotten into my damn pants.

Instead of getting all hung up on it again, I hopped off my barstool and looked over at my friends, who had stopped whispering back and forth and were now watching me curiously. “We’re going somewhere else. Anywhere else.”