Facade: Facade Page 2

  “Get over what?” I have a funny feeling in the pit of my stomach that the one person who can see through me is about to call me out on my bullshit.

  “This whole ‘you’re good enough to fuck but not to date’ shit you’ve been running since freshman year.”

  “It’s not that they’re not good enough to date.” I have to stop myself before I say too much. There’s a reason why I don’t get too close or let anyone get closer, I just don’t share it. It’s my business and mine alone.

  “I worry for you, Ky. Jacoby’s a good man. I’ve worked for him a while now and he really does care for you. Seriously, he’s given me three weeks off with pay until he closes his next deal. He’s not just good, he’s great. I just wish you would let him in.”

  “Maybe someday,” I lie to shut her up. This conversation is way too heavy to have with a killer headache.

  “I know you’re shutting me up and I’ll allow it. For now.” Mira sticks out her tongue, knowing she’s called me out and I’m going to simmer on this for days.

  “You’re a bitch, but I love you,” I joke as the waitress sets down our order.

  Neither one of us wastes any time digging into our plates. You would think that we haven’t eaten in weeks by the way we’re tearing apart our dishes. I mean, isn’t it sexy when you see two girls in a restaurant with liquid cheese on the corner of their mouths? No? Well, shit.

  “Really? He gave you three weeks off and is paying you for that time? You couldn’t have been there long enough to have that many vacation days.” Talking with food in my mouth is sexy, though, right?

  “I know, that’s what I said, but he insisted. Said that I deserved some time to enjoy life, especially after my accident and the Danny stuff.”

  “Hmmm.” The thought passes as the grease hits my stomach, giving me some energy to get the rest of the day started.

  Leaving more than enough to cover our tab on the table, we begin the short walk back to Mira’s apartment. Now that I have some sort of sustenance in my stomach, the sunlight doesn’t seem to affect me like it did earlier. Sparkly vampire syndrome, I’ve beat you yet again. Kylee – 1 Hangover – 0.

  As promised, I keep a look out for Mira while she finishes wrapping Skylar’s gifts. She’s fucking hilarious. Not only did she get boxes that would disguise the type of present inside, but she wrapped them in the paper she had picked out for Skylar—skulls wearing Santa hats—but then wrapped them again in Hello Kitty wrapping paper to disguise who they were for. The girl is a paranoid freak, but she’s in love, so it’s more adorable than pathological.

  Mira and I spend the rest of the afternoon lying in her bed watching Christmas movies. She got to watch her favorite this morning so she doesn’t mind that I want to watch A Christmas Story. Every time I watch this movie, I end up searching online for a leg lamp and vow to buy it; but I never do. I really do want that fucking lamp, though.

  The boys come home around dinner time, complete with pizza and beer. My hangover is just about gone, and the thought of drinking again tonight scares the living shit out of me. I opt for a few slices of pizza and helping Mira pack up for the few days she’ll spend with Skylar at his parents’ house. We’re all sitting in the living room eating our dinner when I realize I didn’t see the guys bring anything back with them.

  “So, what did you guys do?” I corner Danny in the kitchen on the way for another slice.

  “I don’t know. He went in the mall when I was stuck on the phone with Melissa. He came out before I could track him down.”

  “Sky, what did you buy?” I yell. Tact is for pussies. I want to know what it is since it’s some kind of huge secret.

  “Nothing, I couldn’t find what I was looking for,” Skylar says, obviously lying.

  “You found it, whatever it is,” I smirk, sitting on the couch, turning my head to the TV.

  Mira climbs into Skylar’s lap, pouting her lips and making puppy dog eyes. She’s whispering in his ear and he shifts underneath her. Danny pays no attention since he’s fully engrossed in the TV show.

  “I’m not telling you,” Skylar whispers, but loud enough for us to hear.

  “Ugh, you’re impossible.” Now I know he found whatever he was looking for; Mira’s far too pouty for him to have said he couldn’t find it. He’s teasing her and it’s funny as hell. Our poor Mira hates surprises.

  “Well, I’ve gotta meet Melissa and get home. I’ll see you guys tomorrow. Dinner’s at five.” Danny stands, hugging everyone on his way out.

  Well, he’s my ride. Looks like my time’s up. I thought Mira and Skylar were leaving tonight, but both of them look too comfortable to go anywhere. I thought about leaving tonight and avoiding the date with Jacoby tomorrow, but that would be cruel. It’s Christmas and all that good will toward man shit, right?

  “Danny, wait. I don’t have my car, you’re gonna drive me back with you, okay?”

  “Yeah, hurry up.”

  I hug Mira and Skylar, grabbing my purse and boots as I none too gracefully wrestle into Mira’s shoes. She can have these suckers back when she gets home. Mira’s wrapping herself around Skylar’s midsection like a snake. Skylar catches my eye, pulls his hands from her waist and points to his ring finger.

  “OMG,” I silently mouth. He winks, letting me know I’ve guessed right. Wowza, he’s going to propose.

  Walking into my apartment after Danny drops me at the door, I realize how alone I actually am. Since Mira moved out, everything seems so different. I have this apartment, just for me, and I kind of hate being here alone. I’m not scared or anything, but it went from being so full of life and love to being empty.

  I think about calling Jacoby to come over, or even Marisol, but decide against it quickly. I have a few presents to wrap before I go home, and this place could use a decent cleaning. At a quarter after eight I take a sleeping pill, so I’m not stuck wide awake watching infomercials at three am, and start on my tasks. I get the presents situated and ready to go, the living room picked up, a load of laundry put in the dryer and half of the dishes done before my eyelids are too heavy to hold open.

  I wake up early the next day, unhappy that I wasn’t able to sleep longer, and not wanting to do much of anything. I guess that’s what happens when you pass out before ten. I know Jacoby’s going to call me later to tell me our plans for the evening, so I have a few hours to kill before having to shower to get ready.

  Deciding to stay in bed until he calls, I grab my Kindle. I start scrolling through my library, bored out of my mind with the choices I have. Every book I have has been read more than once. They’re all good, but not what I’m looking for today. I want something to drag me out of my world and put me somewhere else.

  As I continue searching, I have a bright idea. My life and the lives of my friends are certainly filled with enough angst to tell a good story. I can’t keep a job because I get bored and feel undervalued. I want to live in yoga pants and tank tops. I can totally be an author, or at least give it a try.

  I grab a notepad from my nightstand and a pen from the drawer. I start writing out an outline of the story that’s playing in my mind. I can see it clear as day, like a movie, rolling through the opening of the characters meeting at college and then following them through their life. Knowing that I’m never going to be able to write it down and then go back to it and see the same things again, I forgo the notepad and pen and run into the living room to get my laptop.

  I grab a cup of coffee and get to work. Before I know it, my phone is ringing off the hook in my bedroom and my bladder is about to burst. I use the restroom as quick as I possibly can then seek out my phone. Seeing seven missed calls and three texts from Jacoby, I return his call and hope that I’m not too late for our date. Not that I would mind, seeing as I’m on a roll and finally feel like I’m accomplishing something in my life. If I’m being completely honest, I can’t wait to tell someone about my decision.

  “Hey, is everything okay?” Jacoby asks, answering his phone, worr
ied.

  “Yeah, sorry. I was caught up in something and didn’t hear my phone until the sixth call. What’s up?”

  “I’m going to pick you up in an hour for our date.”

  I glance at the clock and then at my appearance in the mirror. The life of an author really takes a toll on you. I don’t think I’ve even brushed my teeth yet. “Yeah, I’ll make it work. See you soon.”

  I throw my phone on the bed and head to my closet to find something to wear that says “thank you for this date and I want to fuck you stupid” and avoid the clothes that say “I understand why you want more, and by the way, so do I.”

  Plucking my attire off the hangers, I grab a towel from the linen closet and take the quickest shower known to man while still finding the time to shave all the important zones; arm pits, legs and my cookie. Once I’m dry, I apply lotion and put on a matching bra and panty set that I purchased a Christmas gift to myself. Nothing screams thank you like black lace with a red ribbon. Since I won’t have time to iron my hair to give it the silky look I typically wear, I blow it out. My hair is naturally straight so I’m kind of lucky in this aspect. A quick makeup job and I’m ready to go, happy with my appearance.

  No sooner than a final glance in the mirror, I hear a knock at my door. Looking through the peep hole, I see Jacoby looking sexy as sin. I mean really, this guy’s wearing nothing more than a simple black button-down shirt, tight fitting jeans and a leather jacket, but looks like he walked straight off a billboard. I take a deep breath and open the door.

  “Hey.”

  “Kylee, you look amazing. I hope you didn’t spend all day getting ready.” Well, isn’t he a fucking charmer? This guy knows how to lay it on thick.

  “No, I didn’t, but thank you for the compliment.” The fact that I’m swooning over this guy has my stomach in knots. If there’s any kind of guy in the world to get serious with, Jacoby is that guy. I just can’t let myself get caught up in all the fuss.

  “Well, we have plans for the evening. We should get going.” Jacoby puts out his arm for me to link with his, and of course I do.

  Michigan winters are a crazy thing. It can be negative three degrees with seven inches of snow on Monday, and by Wednesday it’s forty-five degrees and sunny. Luckily, it’s a warmer winter night so I can leave the heavy jacket at home and be perfectly comfortable with the sweater dress I chose to wear.

  Jacoby walks us to his car, opening the passenger door for me like a true gentleman. Once he’s situated in the driver’s seat, he pulls out of the parking lot and heads for an unknown destination—unknown to me at least. This man has the means to plan just about anything and I’m a little giddy to find out what he has in mind.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Jacoby

  Kylee looks absolutely amazing. Then again, she always does, but something about her tonight propels her from the usual gorgeous to definitively stunning. The look of contentment and happiness in her eyes is unmistakable, and I might be getting a little ahead of myself, but I’m hoping it’s because of me.

  Most girls simply pull off a look where Kylee makes the look. She’s confident in her sex appeal and knows exactly what to wear to make her appear breathtaking. So it’s no surprise, that sitting in a car with her while she’s wearing a red knit dress, skin tight thin black pants and those fuck me boots of hers, I’m finding it hard to concentrate.

  I never thought I had a single kind of woman I’ve been attracted to before; I never cared enough to only pick one. Now, knowing Kylee, I for sure have a type; it’s her.

  “So, what’s the plan?”

  “It’s a surprise. Are you going to be warm enough without a coat?” I’m starting to get nervous about what I have in store for her tonight. We’re going to be spending quite a bit of time outside and I don’t want her to be miserable because she’s cold.

  “Yeah, I’ll be fine.” I place my hand on her thigh over the thin pants and she doesn’t flinch away.

  We pull up to a small Arabic restaurant and park in the dimly lit parking lot. Kylee’s always going on about Middle Eastern food; hummus, shawarmas and fattoush. When she looks up from her lap and sees the sign, her eyes light up and I know I hit the nail on the head.

  “I love Arabic food. Thanks, Jacoby.” Her ear to ear smile warms my heart.

  “See, I pay attention. Let’s get you something to eat.”

  I walk around to open Kylee’s door and intertwine our fingers as I lead us to the entrance. She tries to pull her hand from mine once we reach the door, but I hold firm in an attempt to give her the full date experience. Since there doesn’t appear to be a hostess of any kind, we grab a booth at the back and pull the menus from behind the salt and pepper shaker. Kylee doesn’t even have to look, she apparently knows exactly what she’s getting.

  “What are you gonna have?” Kylee asks.

  “I don’t know. I’ve never experimented much with Arabic food. What do you suggest?”

  Before she has a chance to answer, a young Middle Eastern girl comes to our table with glasses of water and pulls a notepad from her apron. I’m baffled by the scowl on Kylee’s face until I see the waitress is wearing a sheer, silky light blue top that covers only her breasts and matching pants that poof out around her long legs.

  “What can I get you?” the girl asks with a thick Arabic accent. I’m quite positive I hear Kylee snarl at the girl’s question.

  Kylee jumps right in and orders a platter of some sort. “I swear she better not come back with a fucking magic lamp or some shit,” Kylee mutters as the waitress walks away.

  “A magic lamp? What are you talking about?” Kylee looks up at me, rolls her eyes and huffs.

  “Really? She comes out here looking like a fucking belly dancer or Arabian princess, and she’s bound to come back with a lamp for me to rub. My first wish is for her to put some fucking clothes on.” I can’t help but chuckle; jealous Kylee is adorable.

  “What would you wish for?” Kylee asks, catching me off guard.

  “Well, I guess if I had a wish I would want …” Kylee stops me mid-sentence.

  “Don’t you dare wish for more wishes. No cheating.”

  The waitress returns with a plate of warm bread and hummus—still underdressed. Kylee wastes no time peeling apart the bread, scooping some of the blended chick peas on the end and devouring it, all while rolling her eyes at the waitress.

  “Jacoby, eyes. What are your wishes?” Kylee reiterates. I don’t mean to look, but I’m a man, right? I refocus my attention on my date and continue.

  “I would want to give my parents a long vacation. My dad retired a few years ago, leaving me the company, but he’s still very involved. He’s not taken a real vacation in decades.” Kylee’s look softens, like I’m breaking through her walls.

  “Then, I would want my grandfather to be alive to be at my wedding. He was one of the most influential people in my life. He helped make me who I am. My grandma really misses him, too.” Kylee looks like she’s fighting back tears.

  I’m about to tell my last wish when the waitress stops back at our table, dropping off our entrée. I’m not stupid enough to look at her again, and the sly, smug look on Kylee’s face tells me I’m doing better than before.

  Kylee puts some of the food on each of our plates; lamb inside of a piece of pita bread, rice and some kind of meat on a skewer.

  “I swear if you would have told me that Arabic food in Ann Arbor could taste as good as East Dearborn, I would have called you a liar. This is delicious. Come on, eat.” That’s another thing I love about Kylee; she’s not scared of food. Too many girls will order a salad or something small when on a date. This girl is shoveling pita and hummus in her mouth like it’s nobody’s business.

  “So, what’s your last wish?” Kylee asks, piling food in her mouth, moaning with every bite. My dick might not survive this dinner.

  “My last wish, Ms. Anderson, is to have another date with you.” Kylee’s face flushes and my cock aches for release. When K
ylee’s really embarrassed, she blushes just like she does when her body convulses around my length. It’s a sexy sight, let me tell you.

  The rest of dinner goes smoothly now that Kylee’s more relaxed. I’m sure Kylee’s thinking that the date’s over when I pay the check, but I have other plans for her. Kylee actually takes my hand in hers without me having to ask, which surprises me. Instead of leading her to my car, I walk to the front of the restaurant that faces the street. Looking confused and chilly, I pull her in to my chest, draping both of my arms around her. She looks up at me, placing her arms around my waist and resting her face over my heart as I rub her back in an attempt to keep her warm. Since she’s no longer facing the street, she doesn’t see when the horse and carriage appear.

  “Ky, turn around.” She reluctantly listens and her jaw drops when she notices what’s waiting for us.

  “Are you kidding me?” Kylee turns back to me, eyes glistening with unshed tears and the most genuine smile.

  “Nope, let’s go.” I pull her by the hand, waiting for her to take a step into the carriage and I follow.

  I gave very strict instructions to the company I rented from, and they followed them to the letter. I requested for there to be hot chocolate ready, a carriage with an enclosure and a blanket—three for three. If I’m not mistaken, Kylee appears to be choking back the tears that are oh so visible.

  “What’s wrong?” I place a finger under her chin and raise her head to meet my eyes.

  “Nothing, this is perfect, Jacoby. Absolutely perfect,” Kylee whispers, resting her head on my shoulder as the horse takes off on its journey.

  “I wanted to do something special for you. I’m so happy you like this.” My inner child is doing back flips that I did so well. Usually, I fuck something up and it’s not what I planned in my head.

  We start our journey down the snow covered roads. The moonlight is dancing on the freshly fallen flakes and Kylee looks like she’s in Heaven. Her eyes are wide, a smile where I can see every one of her teeth and her warm delicate hand is holding on to mine, rubbing her thumb across my finger.