“I want you to know I appreciate the fact that I can talk to you about who I am and where I come from and not feel awkward about it. I appreciate that I can kiss you and not want to retreat after the kiss. I really appreciate how whenever I make you laugh I feel like a better man. I know this isn’t real or anything, and I know I may be suffering from actor’s syndrome where you fall in lust with your co-star. But dammit, if I had to be in a fake relationship with someone, I’m really fucking happy it’s with you.”
When he finishes speaking, I sit quietly and contemplate what he has just shared with me. The way each word replays in my mind makes me glow from the tip of my head to the bottom of my feet. “I lust you, too.” We stare at each other, and momentarily, I forget.
I forget about all of the past hurts. I forget about all of my insecurities when it comes to guys. I forget that right here, right now is all an act; and I allow myself to fall so deeply in lust with this stranger I feel I have known all my life. It feels so damn good to be forgetful.
“Hot cocoa?” he asks. I bite the bottom of my lip, and glance toward my cell phone, seeing that it’s almost five-thirty in the morning.
“Hot cocoa.”
Entering the kitchen to see our pancake mess still there is pretty nice. It wasn’t a dream. This is simply the weird, awkward, totally ridiculous life I’m currently living. Moving to the cabinet, I reach up to grab the mugs and feel two hands land on my waist.
“I don’t want hot cocoa,” Kayden whispers, his lips ever-so-slightly touching the edge of my ear. Twirling me around, I meet his stare. He brushes his finger against my chin and my insides churn in frenzy. His green eyes focus on me, and I cannot tear my gaze away from him even if I want to. He’s smirking with such a strong sense of knowing that I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else on this planet.
“Kayden…” I whine with pleasure as he brings his lips close to mine, millimeters apart, and our breaths comingle into one. His hands wrap around my waist, and he lifts me onto the top of the marble counter. Any minute now, Dad will be around to start his six a.m. coffee pot. Mom will wander down the steps of the isolated cabin soon after, wanting her peppermint tea, her chocolate croissants. “We can’t…” I whisper, pulling him closer to me, rejecting the very definition of my own words.
He doesn’t kiss me, but I want him to. I want him to kiss me in a way that makes real lovers cry out of mere jealousy. I want him to hold me the way he’s never held anyone before. My back arches my body toward him, pressing me against his chest, making our bodies become one.
I don’t know how we got here; I don’t even fully understand why he’s here in Wisconsin with me. Why did I even decide to hire an actor? Why did Stacey decide to sign Kayden that day? Call it a moment of weakness, call it a dark period in my life—or hell, call it fate. All I know is that within the past twenty-four hours Kayden Reece has interjected himself into my life and I am oh so glad he did.
He wraps his hand around my neck, pulling me closer as he separates my legs, stepping in between them. His lips brush across mine, and my eyes want to close, but he warns against it.
“Stay with me, Jules. I want to experience all of you. I want to smell your strawberry lip gloss. I want feel your smooth thighs. I want to get lost in those blue eyes, I want to hear all of your whispers, listen to your secrets, and I want to taste your lips against mine.” When he kisses me, he makes sure I’ll never forget it. I run my hands through his hair, light moans fighting to escape my covered mouth. His hands run up and down my back, holding me still against the countertop.
He kisses me as if we have been doing it all of our lives. He kisses me as if he wishes to do it until the day we die. He kisses me as if he’s so deeply in love with me and he fears that it will be the last kiss we will ever share.
And I kiss him back. Ohhh do I kiss him back… Wanting nothing more than his taste, his body, his words. I kiss him back, wishing to know how his mind works, why his heart beats. I kiss him back, knowing that, even if we say this thing between us is only an act, it’s far from the truth.
The steps from upstairs start to creak, giving us our first warning signals. He allows for our lips to find comfort against each other one last time before he pulls back and gives me a smile that melts me faster than the rising sun melts the fallen snow. He turns me into a complete pile of mush, and I’m absolutely, positivity crazy about the feeling of being his mush.
Creak. Creakkkk.
His eyes move to the mess we made with the pancakes and the batter from earlier. “You want me to clean this up?”
I shake my head as he helps me off the countertop. I smooth out my outfit and nudge him in the opposite direction of the footsteps, toward our bedroom. It’s fine if I’m caught in the kitchen, but being caught with my fake boyfriend would just be awkward for me.
One last kiss to my nose and he disappears.
Nothing about this moment is counterfeit. Nothing about our intense connection can be tagged as a lie. Kayden may be my made-up Christmas boyfriend, but he’s far from being just an act.