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“Sorry.” Maggie clutched the strap of her bag tightly in her fist. “Am I interrupting anything?”
Dean glanced down the hallway as he shut the door, but he shook his head. “Kyle’s stopping by later, but I’m all yours for now, Babs.” He squeezed her shoulder in his hand as he walked past her into his open-concept kitchen and living room. “Can I get you anything?”
Yes,Maggie wanted to say.You can be my fake boyfriend, and then we can go on dates, and you can realize that you’ve loved me as long as I’ve loved you, and it will be glorious.
“I’m fine,” she said.
Dean looked at her, his green eyes narrowing as he crossed his arms over his chest.
“If you’re fine, Babs, then why are you here at,” he checked the heavy silver watch on his wrist, “nine-thirty at night.”
Maggie looked up into Dean’s classically handsome face. This was the same boy who had punched fifth grader Justin Krone when he’d tried to look up her skirt on the bus. Dean was the boy who wrapped his flannel shirt around her waist when she’d bled through her pants during freshman year bio. He’d shown up at her house later that night with chocolate, Dr. Pepper, a box of pads, and romcoms to help ease her cramps and pride. This was the boy who had picked her up, just last year, at the airport in the middle of the night because her delayed flight landed after the taxis and shuttle stopped running and Audrey hadn’t heard her phone ring. All she had to do was ask him, and he’d say yes.
Maggie took a deep breath to calm her nerves. Her stomach was twisting in on itself like a collapsing black hole. “Actually, I could use your help with something. Something important.”
Dean unwound his arms and straightened his shoulders. “You in trouble?”
Maggie shook her head. “No. I just need help from a guy, and you’re the one I trust most.”
Dean blanched and his eyes swept from her head to her toes and back. They focused on her flat stomach underneath her old Led Zeppelin tee. “Is this a sex or baby thing?”
Maggie had to give Dean credit where it was due. He’d gone whiter than his couch, but he didn’t let his smile drop. Maggie’s blush suffused her cheeks as she shook her head.
“Neither.” Her voice cracked, and Dean relaxed.
“What do you need me to do?”
Maggie looked down at her scuffed sneakers. She was wearing two different colored socks. How had she gone a whole day without noticing that?
“Babs?” Dean had stepped closer to her. His voice was soft and soothing, the same voice he used the time he talked her out from under the bleachers in middle school, or after last Halloween when Audrey insisted on watching horror movies after all the trick-or-treaters had gone home and she’d been too scared to walk to her car in the dark. “Whatever you need, I’m here.”
Maggie looked up into his mossy green eyes with the brown flecks running through the irises. She looked at the soft curve of his pink lips, and the buzz of his sandy stubble along a chiseled jaw. She took a deep breath. Cool air and the spicy scent of Dean’s cologne entered her lungs. This was half the reason she loved him. No questions asked. He would do anything for her. Within reason, of course.
“I need you to be my boyfriend.” Maggie sent Dean a wholesome smile, trying to soften the shock that had locked down his every muscle. “Fake boyfriend,” she clarified. Dean swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his tanned throat.
“I think I’m going to need a drink and an explanation.” Dean took a highball glass out of the cupboard. He grabbed a second one for Maggie and poured two fingers of honey-brown liquor into each glass. He turned and held one out. Maggie didn’t drink whiskey, but she took the glass between her palms and held it tight. Dean took a sip, paused, then threw the rest of the alcohol back. “Let’s sit down,”
With a hand on Maggie’s elbow, he led her to his pristine leather couch. Maggie perched on the very end of her cushion, trying to sit as still as possible to not spill her drink. Dean sat next to her. He leaned all the way into the back of the couch and propped his ankle on the opposite thigh, keeping his gaze pinned to her face as though he could figure out her secrets just from the eye contact.
“Let’s start with why you need a fake boyfriend,” Dean said.
Maggie nodded and leaned forward to set her drink on the low-slung coffee table. Dean needed an explanation. Dean deserved an explanation. One other than how she hoped it would make him fall head over heels for her. She did hope that, but she also needed help with her book. Maggie explained about her characters, the reader feedback, and her need for real-world experiences. She felt like a child, bumbling through her thoughts and blush stealing up her cheeks as she admitted she’d preferred reading to dating and sex. She would forever be grateful that Dean listened with a straight face. He leaned forward, fingers steepled as he considered what she said.
“Why a fake boyfriend?” Dean asked. “Why not pick a guy you like and date them for real?”
Technically, that’s what she was trying to do. Couldn’t he be a little more cooperative?
Maggie shook her head. “There’s no one,”other than you,“I’m interested in, and I don’t have the time to just wait for something to develop. I just need to get some of the life experiences now so I can write about them.”
And, if everything went according to paperbacks, Dean would realize and confess that he loved her, too.
“I’m not the right choice for you,” Dean said. He blew out a breath and leaned back in his seat. He ran one of his enormous hands through his sandy hair.
“You’re the only guy I would trust with this,” Maggie said. And while she wanted Dean to agree because she liked him, she also was telling the truth about trusting him. Dean would take care of her. He’d keep her body and her emotions safe. Dean would make sure she got the experiences and information she needed and make sure that she didn’t get hurt.
His sigh came from deep in his chest. “What would you need your fake boyfriend to do?”
Maggie took a minute to organize her pitch. They’d need to go on dates. Public ones. That was something people did when fake dating. She could set up the dates she loved to read about. Bonus points if they came from fake dating novels. The greater the chance he would realize he loved her. And they should keep their plan a secret. Hiding the pretend part of their relationship meant they’d have to act like an actual couple. Maggie blushed just thinking about being half of a genuine couple with Dean.
