Marrying My Fake Boyfriend

She strolled up to them and raised her hand.

“Watch out, guys,” she said loudly. “The girls are here.”

Michael Finch groaned.

“Dear God. Hand over your wallets and save yourselves the heartache of losing your money.”

“Only because the last two times you’ve lost in the first round,” Jim Reese teased. He got off his stool and kissed Cherrelle’s cheek. “What do you fancy, Cherrelle?”

“You?” Cherrelle joked as she hugged him. Jim withdrew and gave her his trademark grin before kissing Sarah’s cheek.

“Unfortunately, I’m not on the drinks menu.”

Cherrelle laughed. Jim and Michael were friends from Fresno and were in partnership together. Michael was the computer nerd and former classmate while Jim was a business major. They worked well together and Cherrelle found a kinship in Michael while she drooled over Jim. The man was gorgeous, and women were constantly falling over themselves. While Cherrelle had never stepped over the line, they toed it with the heavy flirting.

If he wasn’t engaged, Cherrelle would have asked him to play the fake boyfriend. But the girlfriend might have said something about it.

“The usual, then.” She put her handbag on the counter. “For both of us.”

“Naturally it was extended to the pair of you,” Jim quipped, giving her a wink.

“I’ll get them.”

The new voice had Cherrelle catching sight of the new member of the group sitting on a stool two seats away. Cherrelle thought he looked familiar but couldn’t place where. She would have remembered him; if Jim was gorgeous, this guy topped the scale. Even sitting, he towered over everyone – he had to be at least six-five. Broad shoulders and a muscular torso were offset by a dark blue t-shirt and strong-looking thighs in brand-new jeans. His hair was almost as dark as Cherrelle’s own, tanned, and slightly rugged with chocolate-brown eyes.

“You sure, Brad?”

“I’m sure.” Brad took out his wallet. “Don’t worry, Jim, I won’t break the bank.”

“Brad.” The name clicked in Cherrelle’s mind. She stared at the newcomer. “Brad Jarrett? Jim’s roommate?”

Brad grinned, flashing his white teeth.

“I’m amazed you remembered me considering I spent more time studying in the library.”

“It took a moment.” Cherrelle looked him over, her heart struggling to decide whether it should speed up or stop entirely. “Last I saw you, you were stick thin, you wore glasses, and your hair was past your shoulders.”

“I had a makeover the year after graduation. Bulked up, got laser surgery and a haircut.” Brad spread his hands. “Massive improvement, isn’t it?”

“It certainly is.” Cherrelle’s body was agreeing big-time. She swallowed. “You look great.”

Brad winked and turned to the bar, signaling for the barman. Jim gave Cherrelle an apologetic look.

“Sorry, Cherrelle, I know it’s one of our rules that it’s only for us, but he’s a bit down at the moment. I suggested he joined us for our usual pool game.”

“It’s fine, Jim.” Cherrelle eyed Brad’s backside. “I’d like somebody else to beat hands down.”

Sarah leaned against the bar between her and Brad, blocking her view, and gave Cherrelle a saucy look.

“He’s hot,” she whispered. “Very. So much better than the geek I knew in college.”

Cherrelle had to agree. Whatever had happened to Brad Jarrett had been for the best. He was drop-dead gorgeous.

She was in trouble.

“Can’t we do something else?” Paige Morgan complained, tying her hair into a high ponytail. “We’ve been playing pool for years and we know Cherrelle is going to win nine times out of ten.”

Her tone suggested whining, but she sent a wink in Cherrelle’s direction. Paige didn’t like to lose, but she wasn’t a sore loser either. However, she was the one who raised the highest stakes, so she always lost the most.

Ken Tao laughed and slung an arm round her shoulders.

“We keep doing it, Paige, darling, because we’re all so sure we’ll have a lucky streak and beat her.”

“You do beat me,” Cherrelle pointed out. She grinned. “Every now and then.”

“Not nearly enough,” Michael muttered.

“I take it she’s the resident champion,” Brad commented, handing Cherrelle her orange juice and Sarah her cola.

Their fingers brushed and Cherrelle felt the jolt run into her hand. She bit her lip and managed to stop herself from dropping her glass.

Jim laughed.

“That’s an understatement. We’ve been playing since college and we still haven’t caught on to the fact that we’re going to lose more often than we win if she’s in the room.”

“It’s just a good thing we’ve got the money to cope with the loss,” Paige commented, moving to Jim and slipping her arms around his waist. Jim gave her a kiss on her forehead.

“How come I never went to these games?” Brad asked, sipping at his beer.

“You were too busy chasing girls,” Jim pointed out.

“Not that it made any difference,” Paige muttered.

Brad winced and clutched at his heart in mock hurt. “Ouch. You know how to hurt a man, Paige.”

Paige grinned and blew him a kiss. “I do it for a living, honey.”

Cherrelle leaned against the bar and tried to focus on the friends she considered her family. But her attention kept getting pulled towards Brad, who was still verbally jousting with Paige. He was still smiling and Cherrelle could feel her body reacting. She wanted that smile directed at her, not at anyone else.

She shook her head. This was no time to be daydreaming of something she couldn’t have.

But then a germ of an idea took hold. Could he be the answer to her troubles?

“Shall we get going?” Sarah demanded, dropping her bag on a nearby table. “I want to lose my money the sooner the better.”

Cherrelle laughed and gulped half of her glass. “Bring it on.”