Marrying My Fake Boyfriend

Chapter 2

Michael groaned as the black ball disappeared down the corner pocket. He held up his hands in surrender.

“That’s it. I’m out. You’ve beaten me, Brad.”

Brad laughed and leaned against the table with his hip.

“That was too easy,” he declared.

Cherrelle agreed. While Michael was a good player, the way Brad had taken him apart had been too easy. She couldn’t have done it better herself.

Brad had claimed at the start that he wasn’t a fantastic player, but he could hold his own. What he should have said was he was actually the best of the lot, almost as good as Cherrelle herself. He potted the balls faster than she could keep up with. They always played round-robin, eliminating until they got to the final two. The stakes got higher and higher and the tension, despite the laughter and joking, got thicker and thicker. It was even tenser than any other game they had played in the past.

The sudden curve ball thrown into the midst had thrown everyone off, making everyone bet higher than before. Cherrelle hadn’t faced Brad yet, but she was sure he would be a real challenge. With his wit, charm, and smarts, he was a worthy opponent.

Maybe he could be more than worthy if she could get him alone and find out more about him.

The thought that he should become her fake boyfriend to make her parents rethink marrying her to Jason had been forming in her mind since the game had started. The more she considered it, the more it sounded like a good idea.

Cherrelle just had to speak to him as soon as she could.

“How did you not join us at college?” Ken asked. “You would have wiped the floor with us.”

“Where’s the fun in saying I played professional as a teenager?” Brad picked up his beer and took a long gulp. “I prefer to act stupid.”

“You’re very good at that,” Paige muttered.

Sarah slapped Paige’s arm and Jim laughed, tickling Paige as she sat on his lap. Paige squealed and tried to get up, but Jim held her down.

Brad turned to Cherrelle, whose heart rate sped up so much she thought it was pounding in her head. She swore everyone could see her pulse beating in her throat. Brad grinned. “Is it you next?”

“It’s me.” Cherrelle stood, glad that she wasn’t standing on rubbery legs, and picked up her cue. “How high are the stakes?”

“How high do you want them?”

Cherrelle looked at Sarah. “What was the last stake?”

“$50,000.”

That was the highest they had even gone up to before. The highest bid they had made previously was half of that. Maybe having a new member in the mix made people reckless, made sure they didn’t get beaten by the newbie.

Cherrelle faced Brad.

“Double it,” she said calmly. “$100,000.”

She heard the gasps from her friends, but she was focused on Brad. For a moment, she thought she saw an uncertain flicker in his eyes. But then it was gone and his smile, which had momentarily faltered, was back again.

“You’re on.”

They set the table up and Brad allowed Cherrelle to break first. She did so and began to pocket the balls at speed. She could feel everyone, especially Brad, watching her as she proceeded to take her color balls off the table. Only once did Brad come to the table, but his hands were shaking enough that he only got three of his into pockets before Cherrelle pocketed the rest.

The cheer was deafening as she put the black ball in the middle ball with a firm strike. Cherrelle glanced up and saw that Brad’s face had paled. He was staring at her as if he had just seen his life drain away. What had just happened?

She straightened up. “You owe me.”

Brad gulped and laughed nervously. “I don’t carry that much on me. Can I write an IOU?”

“Sure.”

Cherrelle went to her table, unable to feel like she had just won a large chunk of money. Her thoughts were on Brad and his reaction. Why had he paled so much at losing so much?

“Cherrelle.” Jim appeared at her side. He looked worried. “Are you sure about this?”

“Am I sure about what?”

“Brad doesn’t have the money.”

Cherrelle paused, her hand reaching for her handbag. She straightened up and looked at Brad, who was shrugging into his jacket and making a quick exit, barely stopping to say goodbye.

“Why didn’t he say anything? And what’s he doing betting in high-stakes pool?”

“Because he has a big ego,” Jim said bitterly. “The idiot thought he would win.”

Cherrelle stared after Brad, who had quickly left through the door out into the parking lot. He was gorgeous, charming, and had a sense of humor. He was also in need of money.

Perfect.

“Excuse me a minute.”

She hurried out and found Brad walking quickly across the parking lot towards a vintage but battered Porsche parked alone under a street lamp.

“Brad! Wait up!”

Brad turned as she ran to him. She gave him her best smile. “I was wondering if you fancied a drink.”

Brad blinked. He had clearly not been expecting that. But he recovered quickly and nodded. “Okay. But you might have to buy. You cleaned me out.”

“I’m not taking your money,” Cherrelle said quickly. “But I’ll buy. Because I have a proposition for you. And I think you’ll like it.”

*****

Brad couldn’t believe what had happened. Cherrelle Mason, the woman who he had a crush on in college, was asking him for a drink moments after she had beaten him easily at pool. It was like a bizarre dream.

But he was under no illusions. A wealthy woman like Cherrelle – and wealthy was an understatement – always wanted something and buying him a drink with a proposition put forward was just how he had expected it. Get him drunk and then get him to agree to anything she wanted.

That wasn’t going to happen. But because he had always wanted to get close to her, even for a moment, he would indulge her before turning her down.

He could only stare at her as they sat in a small diner down the street from the pool hall and ordered a drink and a burger for each of them. Her hair was in a fashionable pixie cut rather than the long weave she had sported at twenty, and she seemed taller and slimmer than before. And she was more toned. She looked good. Really good.

And damn if his body didn’t know it. His c*ck had been at half-mast most of the evening. Now, alone together and his groin hidden, his was standing to attention and straining against his jeans.

This wasn’t going to be easy.

Cherrelle waited until they were served before she spoke. “So, tell me, Brad, what’s a guy like you doing playing high-stakes pool?”

Brad shrugged, trying to act like he didn’t care when inside his heart was hammering and he was beginning to break out in a sweat. “Jim told me of your games and I thought I’d tag along this time.”

“Seriously?” Cherrelle gave him a look that said she didn’t believe him. “Don’t bullsh*t me.”

That was Cherrelle. Straight-talking to a fault. He sighed and looked down at his food. He didn’t feel very hungry. “I have my own business. Dealing with cars. It was doing great until I bought a few too many cars that didn’t match the paperwork.” He snorted disparagingly at his own incompetence. “My fault for trusting the wrong people. Now my business is in danger of going under, and when Jim mentioned the pool games, I thought it would be my chance to win some money back.” He shook his head. “I didn’t count on coming up against you, though.”

Cherrelle picked up her burger. “I think Jim should’ve warned you I’m always winning,” she said before she took a bite. Brad tried not to stare as this woman, who should be tasting delicate morsels of food, was wolfing down a burger that looked far too big for her.

“I might’ve missed that memo,” he murmured.

Cherrelle swallowed her mouthful and put her burger down, dabbing at the corners of her mouth with a napkin.