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“No! Not even that!” I screech. The memory of his impressive erection pressing against me on the night we met is permanently burned into my brain.
Brooke giggles to herself. “How about the story about how he eats pussy like a seven-course meal? Or that his favorite position happens to be cowgirl because the view from below is worth the lack of dominance.”
“Oh my freaking God, where are you getting this information? Stop it!” My skin heats from Brooke’s gossip.
Nothing I chant to myself erases the images from my head. They play on a loop, reminding me why I can look but can’t touch. Been there, kissed that. Anything with Santiago spells trouble in two different languages.
Brooke rambles on. “I have my sources on the dark internet.”
“Reddit doesn’t count as the dark web.”
“Okay, fine. But it’s a good site for this kind of shit. How else would you know about his dick size?”
“Uhm, by touching it?”
She scoffs. “Please. You wouldn’t remember your way around a dick if an anatomy book hit you in the head.”
“I hate you. Just because it’s been a long time since I had any kind of intimate relationship, doesn’t mean I don’t remember how to please someone else.”
“No, you love that I call you out on the lack of male company lately. If you don’t orgasm on the spot by touching his nine-inch cock, then I’m banishing you from our apartment. Don’t bother coming back.”
A laugh erupts from me. “What has gotten into you?”
“You’re fake dating someone who’s rumored to tongue-fuck pussy like he doesn’t need oxygen to breathe.”
I ignore the way my skin prickles, hoping the rush of blood through my body settles. “Do people truly share that kind of info? About his—” I wince. “That’s such an invasion of privacy.”
“What do you expect? He’s famous. You lose
all rights to being considered human the moment TMZ features multiple stories about you.”
“What do I do? I shouldn’t have agreed to dinner tonight with Marko. Shoot, I shouldn’t have agreed to any of this. Fake dating is my worst idea yet.”
“Relax and enjoy it. All you’ve done in your short life is grow up way too fast and work until you drop. I’m telling you to strap on your cowgirl boots and go for a ride. After dinner, that is, because you don’t need to scar the little kid, no matter how tempting the dining table looks for some good fucking.”
“You’re the worst support system. You should tell me this is a terrible idea and I should cancel.”
“It is a terrible idea, which is exactly why you should do it! What’s the harm in faking it in front of his family and yours a couple of times? You both get something out of it.”
“I don’t like using people.” The idea alone makes me feel icky.
“You’re not her.”
Resembling anything close to my mother is the last thing I want in life. I can’t deny how everything spiraling out of control reminds me of her. “Yeah, well, lately it feels like that with the lies piling up.”
“Listen, it’s normal for you to worry about turning out like your mom, but this is different. Santiago is a willing participant.”
“Yeah, but—”
“No buts. Didn’t he agree to hosting a dinner with your dad next week once Marko leaves and things settle down?”
“Yes.”
“Okay. Does that sound like someone who is being forced?”
I bite into my bottom lip. “No.”
“Would a normal person agree to be used?”
