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The Pretend Boyfriend novel Chapter 2

Summary for Chapter 2: The Pretend Boyfriend

What Happens in Chapter 2 – From the Book The Pretend Boyfriend

Dive into Chapter 2, a pivotal chapter in The Pretend Boyfriend, written by Artemis Hunt. This section features emotional turning points, key character decisions, and the kind of storytelling that defines great Internet fiction.

"You didn't order it."

"Damn, I knew something was missing in my life."

Cassie smiles and grasps one of Sam's hands. "Hey, kiddo. You don't need a man to complete your life. That's what you've been saying all this time to me, remember?"

"Yeah, I know." Sam signals the waiter. "One black Americano, please. No sugar." She turns back to Cassie. "But now and then ... it's kinda nice to have a pretend boyfriend. You know, the kind you can borrow for a weekend party or some office function or some high school reunion. And return him on Monday to wherever he came from."

Cassie laughs. "Hell, you'd probably have to pay for that. He's called an escort. A discreet term for gigolo."

"Well, sure, and he doesn't even have to bang me."

"Girl, sex has gotta be the best part about a hiring a gigolo."

"No, it isn't."

"Then what is? The scintillating conversation? The recount of experiences past shared?"

The waiter comes back with the coffee. He's has a brown mop for hair and dimples. He says, flashing a grin, "One black Americano, no sugar. Would that be all, Miss?"

Cassie says, "You're kinda cute. You don't happen to have anything on this weekend, do you?"

"Excuse me?" The waiter raises a quizzical brow.

"Um, she was just kidding." Sam shoots her best friend a glare. As the waiter knowingly walks away, she hisses, "Don't embarrass me."

"Honey, you're gonna be plenty embarrassed this weekend when your sister discovers you don't really have a boyfriend, hot photos downloaded from Fotolia notwithstanding."

Sam sighs and she grips her coffee mug. "I know."

"Take it," Brian Morton says to his best friend, Caleb.

"I can't take your money."

Brian rolls his eyes. "There's plenty of it where it came from."

"Brian, I know your family owns Morton Enterprise Ltd., but this is my Mom we're talking about. I can't take your money to pay off her mortgage."

"If you don't, the bank is going to foreclose and she'd be out in the streets. You'll be forced to take her into your apartment and she's gonna seriously cramp your sex life."

"Or the lack of it." Caleb bends over mutinously with his cue to aim a ball into the right hand corner pocket of the pool table. He misses. "Damn."

Brian looks up to see a redhead at the bar eyeing him. Her eyes roam appreciatively up and down his leather jacket clad body. So what's new? He gets looks like that from women and quite a few men all the time. With his striking features and six-foot-two frame, he cuts quite a figure in the smoky barfly crowd.

He blows the top of his cue and strides to the other side of the table.

"Think of it as a loan," he says. "You can pay me back ... with interest."

The white ball strikes a green ball and the latter rolls into the middle pocket.

"No."

"Yes."

"Cut it out, Brian. I'm not taking your money and that's final. I don't need you to bail me out every time I've got a problem."

Brian shoots a yellow ball into a pocket. "I didn't hear you complaining when I bailed you out from jail when you were caught with that underage hooker."

"I say no plenty of times."

"Yeah, only because there're only twenty-four hours in a day. If it were up to you, you'd be fucking for as long your penis can hold up."

"My penis can't help having a raging libido."

"Your penis can't help defining the 'P' in promiscuity either. You're gonna catch gonorrhea ... or something worse."

"I'm always careful. And you won't dream of drinking yesterday's coffee, would you?" Brian puts down his cue as the blonde steps up with a smile. He knows that women of all ages find him irresistible and he's going to milk it for all it's worth before he turns thirty. And then, there's always Botox.

"Hey," the blonde says.

Brian glances askew at the redhead and the brunettes, who are all glowering now.

"Hey," he says.

Caleb groans audibly.

"Don't mind him," Brian says, "he has gas."

"You wanna get out of here?" the blonde says.

Brian turns to Caleb. "I'll only be a while," he deadpans.

Caleb grimaces.

In the stockroom of the bar, piled with crates of empty beer bottles for recycling, Brian pushes the blonde onto an empty crate and lifts up her dress. She is on her belly and her breasts are spilling out of her top. She isn't wearing any panties.

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