Kiss and Fake Up Read Online Crystal Kaswell

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Forbidden Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 98652 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 493(@200wpm)___ 395(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
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"And here I thought you were going to cook."

She laughs. "Can you imagine?" She shakes her head the horror. She also inherited Mom's talent in the kitchen (none) while I got Dad's (medium). "Will you cook for her if she stays?"

"If she stays, sure, but she's a better cook."

Daphne looks around the room carefully, memorizing the place, comparing it to the way it used to be. Then, she looks me in the eyes, and she smiles a real, pure smile. "I am proud of you, Damon. For trying to help someone who needs it. And I do appreciate you doing my best friend a favor. Really. Just promise me one thing."

"Yeah?" I ask.

"Don't fuck her."

Chapter Eight

Damon

After I wash up, I head downstairs and find Cassie and Daphne at the dinner table discussing The Matrix as if they haven't seen it a billion times.

Of course, they don't focus on the good stuff, the rants about the evil of the human species, or even the need for humans to follow our baser instincts, if we really want to stay human.

Instead, they swoon over the romance of Neo and Trinity's death-defying, world-saving love. Which is weird. Neither of them is remotely romantic.

"Smells great." I force a compliment from my tongue. It does smell great. I just feel weird giving Cassie a compliment without sarcasm. As her fake boyfriend, I need to get used to it. "Thanks for cooking."

She looks at me like I grew a second head, but she slips into character quickly. Sorta. "Is that good manners from Damon Webb? I didn't realize a fake relationship led to a personality switch."

"I'm a gentleman," I say.

"You always make sure a lady comes first?" Cassie teases.

"Gross." Daphne's nose scrunches. "I guess it's realistic new couple behavior…" She shakes her head. "So you're really doing this?"

Cassie nods.

I do too.

"Can you at least keep it PG for my sake?" Daphne shoots me a look that says I hope you know what you're doing.

Or maybe I'm projecting.

Either way, I need to be smart about this. To play my part without catching feelings. Or, at least, without fucking Cass.

I push the concern aside and slip into my role as fake boyfriend. "I'll do my best, but no promises." The words feel easy. Too easy. I keep thinking about Cassie naked. I keep picturing her spread over my bed, lips parting with a groan, eyes rolling back in her head.

Sex. That's all it is. Dirty fantasies.

Only that's not all it is. There's more. Images of Cassie sitting next to me on the bed, resting her head on my shoulder, listening to me play the guitar.

Cassie and I lying together under the covers, trading secrets.

I want to know what's in her head, the way I did when I was fourteen. I imagined the two of us as a real, happy couple.

I've never had that with anyone. I've never tried, really.

I'm twenty-eight, and I've never loved anyone or invited anyone to love me. I'm twenty-eight, and I'm still imagining a relationship the way I did when I was fourteen.

Is that progress or regression? I don't know. But I know one thing.

I want her.

Because she's difficult and bossy and stubborn and beautiful and determined.

I sit at the long dining table next to my sister. She's on the side closer to the piano. Cassie is sitting opposite her, so she has a prime view of the ivory keys.

Usually, the reminder of her obsession with music fills me with irritation. Envy, even. It's easy for her. It's not fair.

The jealousy flares in my stomach, but this time, it doesn't fade to irritation. It shifts into something much scarier. Pride.

Cassie loves music with her entire heart.

That's hard to do.

And it's good for me. As a human being, an artist, a career musician, a fake boyfriend. Her passion makes me look passionate. My parents won't be excited I'm in a relationship this quickly, but they feel the same way Daphne does.

Cassie is a good influence.

She doesn't drink; she doesn't party; she works out her pain via her passion for words and melody.

If I'm her boyfriend, I must be taking my work seriously, and that means I'm taking my sobriety seriously.

There's a certain logic.

And there's truth too. I want to take my career seriously. I want to be an in-demand songwriter. I want to feel the passion Cassie does, and I want the steady income stream from regular gigs and residuals.

She is right.

I can't crash at my parents' summer house forever. I can't hide from the world forever. I can't spend every day with don't drink as my primary focus.

Eventually, I need an actual life with goals and friends and relationships. Eventually, I need more than Daphne's trust and space without my parents' disappointment.

But one thing at a time. One day at a time. I've survived most of this one. Only a few hours to go.


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