The Pretend Boyfriend novel Chapter 25

He finally collapses on top of her, his body shuddering with deep breaths. His skin is flushed and beaded with sweat. A drop actually falls upon her lips, and she licks its salty tang away. She can almost imagine it to be one of her tears.

His chest heaves with several deep breaths, and then he settles on top of her, sinking comfortably into every curve she possesses.

"Now I know why you're so slim," she says. "You must get thorough workouts every day."

He laughs. "Let me catch my breath, and then it's one more for the road."

Yes, she's going to miss this. Miss him laughing with her. Miss his snarky sense of humor. Miss his vivid smiles and the snap of fire in his dazzling eyes. Miss discovering more about him - those endless, boundless undulations and complexities of his mind that she has yet to explore.

She strokes his cheek.

"Goodbye, Brian."

He sighs as he smiles winningly. "Gawd, I hope you're not going to get all weird on me."

"No, I promised I wouldn't. And I won't."

"I believe you."

He kisses her again. A loving deep kiss that is layered with regret and emotion and hidden meaning that she would like to read in between his lip nuances.

I'll make myself un-miss him.

He smiles again. "Now what do you say to us grabbing a bite to eat ... and then fucking our brains out one more time?"

They made love throughout the evening, and then through the night, stopping now and again to drink wine or nibble at snacks. He falls asleep on her bed for the second night in a row. This time, they are entwined. Limbs curled around each other, her head on his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat.

It is ... almost romantic.

He reminds himself he doesn't do romance.

When dawn snakes through the cracks in her curtains, he puts his hand on her hair and tugs at it gently.

"Wakey, wakey. I've got to be getting back to the Evil Day Job."

"Oh right," she groans, "it's Monday. Two nights of partying. I can't believe it. It's so not me."

Yeah, but it's me, he thinks. Time to get back to his old life. Why does he feel heavy all of a sudden, like there's a lead anchor dragging down his chest?

He vaults out of bed for a shower.

"I'd rather he call me first."

"And has he?"

"No."

"Maybe he's waiting for you to call."

"Maybe he's too indoctrinated in the Brian Morton school of one night stands."

Sam winces at the mention of Brian's name.

'Ah well," Cassie says in a singsong voice, "back to the old daily grind of waiting by the phone. Only we don't have to technically wait by the phone anymore, seeing as we are all equipped with text, Viber, What's App and a million other ways to get dumped."

"He did not dump you."

"He didn't exactly jump all over on seeing me again either. I mean, it's understandable for Brian, but I thought Caleb and I had a connection. At least ... we talked. And talked and talked and talked while we fucked."

That's more than I can say for Brian, Sam thinks in chagrin.