The Fiction of Forever (A Stand By Me Novel Book 2) (15 page)

C
urrent Day

Kiley

D
awn light filters
through the tent walls, creating a leafy pattern of shadows from nearby trees. A frigid wind buffets the nylon fabric, and I shiver. I roll into the warmth of Gunner’s body.

Even though he’s worked his upper body out of the sleeping bag, his skin radiates heat. Morning stubble in a color a shade darker than his hair stands out along his jawline. A tiny scar sits perched at the top of one eyebrow. I examine the way his eyelashes curl at the ends. I’ve never noticed it before. But now I have the luxury of seeing every detail of his face up close and unhurried. He’s all man, but those lashes should belong to me.

His breathing quickens and his eyes move beneath his eyelids.

“Need you,” he chants several times, as if he’s trying to convince the person in his dream. His pained tone sends daggers straight to my heart.

I squeeze Gunner’s bicep and gently shake him. “Hey.”

He shrugs it off. “What? What is it?”

His gaze darts from the ceiling of the tent to the far corners, but never looking straight at me. His breathing comes in little shallow gulps.

“It’s me. Kiley.” I need to make the shadows leave his eyes.

He meets my gaze as I lean close to his chest. After several seconds, he licks his lips and gives me a tremulous smile. “Sorry. Did I wake you up?”

“Yeah. You were talking in your sleep.”

“Bad dream.” He stares up at the top of the tent.

I resist the urge to hug him. He’s not a child in need of soothing. “Want to talk about it?”

“No,” he says too quickly.

I place my hand on his chest in a comforting way. “It must’ve been a doozie.”

“Yeah. Well,” he rakes his free hand over his hair. “I’m not used to sleeping with someone. That must be it. Sleeping with you.”

“Are you saying I give you nightmares?” I tease him.

He doesn’t laugh as I expect him to. “It’s not a big deal.” He exhales and looks away. “Drop it.”

His words grate, gruff and final.

I want to make him feel better. What makes a guy like Gunner afraid? I don’t want to act as though he’s hurt my feelings, but he has.

“Sure,” I say, my voice tight and my smile tighter.

“Wait.” He closes his eyes. “I’m sorry I snapped at you.”

I shrug. “It’s all right.”

“No, it’s not.” His lids flutter open and his gaze softens. “You don’t deserve a shitty attitude.”

“I forgive you.”

He slings his free arm across and surprises me with a quick hug. His arms feel warm and his body hard. His hand trails over my back and drops casually lower. “Good,” he says.

“I was in your face, I understand. But honestly, there’s not much choice in this sleeping bag. You’re very close.” I lick my bottom lip. “And…um…your hand is on my ass, Gunner.”

He keeps a straight face. “Yeah. I know.”

“Is there a reason why you’re not moving it?”

“Yep.”

I wiggle away, which is only a couple of inches. He sighs. “I needed comfort and your ass was providing it.”

“Gunner!” I widen my eyes, but I’m grinning at his change in mood, his playfulness, and if I’m being honest—the feel of his body and roving hand.

Bad, bad Matchmaker. He is so off-limits he should have yellow caution tape strapped across him.

“Can a man not flirt with a pretty girl when she spent the night with him? I did that cuddling thing and we didn’t even have sex.”

“Cuddling is not necessarily paired with sex. It’s not wine and cheese. And I didn’t realize I would be this cold. That’s my excuse.” I lose the inch of space between us on that note and allow my arms to curl up flush with the side of his chest.

“OK. I was cold, too. Still am.” We’re practically nose-to-nose.

I cover my mouth and smile beneath my hand. “I’m going to go brush my teeth.”

“Don’t even think about moving. I like you exactly where you are.” His eyes crinkle at the corners. His chest expands as he draws in air. He looks away and then back. “You know this show is stupid.”

“It isn’t.”

“Is. If we weren’t on this show, I’d make you want to stay with me all day in this tent. Brushing your teeth would be the last thing on your mind. And
then
we’d cuddle.”

“Dream on. And keep in mind that I
am
your Matchmaker and we
are
on this show. Sex would be highly inappropriate.” One corner of my mouth quirks.

“Do you remember that majorette skirt you wore on game days our sophomore year?” he whispers as if he’s said something really dirty.

“Yeah. I froze my butt off during the winter. Why?” I’m grinning now. I’m so wrong for encouraging him.

“Do you still have it? Please tell me you do.”

I can’t help but laugh. “I was about a hundred pounds then. So, no. I don’t. I couldn’t fit one leg into it. Remember, I’m the one who had three hot dogs for dinner.”

His lips purse. “Maybe we could find you one in a bigger size.”

I poke him in the gut, underneath the covers. His firm abs don’t budge. But it’s not the hard planes of his body that get to me. It’s the liquid heat in his eyes while he stares at my face as if I’m something he worships.

Desire shoots in tiny sparks through my body.

He blinks and gets an odd look on his face. There’s no question he’s made a mental shift. The playful Gunner is gone. I study him, trying to figure what’s changed.

“You know I could get rid of all of my dates, like I did with Addison,” he says in a low, husky tone.

I frown at him for more than one reason. I hate that he’s said something so appealing. Where are my morals? My integrity? “Gunner. You signed a contract with a clause that you go on the dates without interruption to filming. They’ll probably keep this weekend’s film. I don’t know. But you’re going to be in jeopardy of breach of contract.”

He winks. “I bet they keep the footage. The audience will love this sort of thing. It’s damned funny. But I’m not trying to make you look bad.”

I scoot back a couple of inches.

“I have a great idea,” he says, his voice all melted caramel and dripping with temptation.

“I don’t like the way this conversation is going.”

“I can pretend to go on the dates so you’ll look good, and no one would know if we…”

He doesn’t have to fill in the blanks. My mouth drops. “Are you propositioning me and asking me to lie to the American audience?”

“I’m tempting you.”

“You’re being a jerk.”

“I’m a jerk because I’m telling you what I want? You’re a liar if you deny you feel this thing between us. You’ve felt it since we were in school.”

I toss the sleeping bag from me and scramble to my feet. “So, you think we should have a fling. Just like that.”

“I wouldn’t call it a fling.”

With my hands on my hips, I glare down at him. “I don’t sleep around. Do you think I’m a whore?”

His mouth drops open. I can’t tell what he’s thinking, but he should be saying, ‘No.’

My eyes widen and my heart accelerates. A giant burning coal of pissed-off sits in my chest. “And as for what happened in the kitchen. You and I weren’t on this show yet. I was hurt and you were nice and I…”

“You’re accusing me of saying things I didn’t. You caught me off guard. I’d never think of you that way. You’re getting defensive. And it’s not like I met you yesterday. We have history…” He sits up in the sleeping bag with a bewildered look on his face.

“Listen up. I don’t know if you think I was going to be some easy lay for you, but think again.” My throat tightens and tears gather in my eyes, so I look away and blink.

He rubs a hand over the top of his head. “Sorry. I thought you felt the same way about me. About this,” he says and motions between us.

I have been tempted every moment I spend alone with him. I almost hate him for the way he makes me feel—helpless to fight the pull.

He reaches out to put a hand on my bare foot, as if he’s trying to bridge the emotional distance with this one touch. “You know I’m not planning on falling down on one knee at the end of the show for some girl I barely know. I’m going to win the prize. And I’m more into you than I’ll be into any of the ones you fix me up with. I tried to tell you. I’m not the dating, engaging, or marrying kind.”

His words douse me in cold reality. Show or no show, we are incompatible. “Wow. I thought you were one of the good guys. Do you honestly think I’d want to sleep with you after that speech? You’ve confirmed you only want to sleep with me. Nothing more.”

He stares at me without answering. Finally, he exhales loudly. “I could lie to you, make a lot of promises I can’t keep, but I won’t.”

I search around for my shoes, bending over to flip up a soggy sleeping bag on the opposite side of the tent. “Don’t say another word to me. You’re making it worse. I hope I find someone to melt that icy heart of yours.”

“Kiley. I’m being honest with you because I respect you.”

I hold up my hand in the universal sign for stop. My hiking boots are soggy and tight as I slip my feet into them. Sunshine streams into the tent as I unzip and open the flap with shaky fingers.

He scrambles to his feet and takes a step forward. “You need to admit we’ve always had this chemistry. I’ve always liked you a lot. Admit you want me as much as I want you.”

Like? I can hardly believe I ever harbored feelings for this guy. “I’m calling Tony to see where he is and I’m out of here. I’ll be arranging your next date for tomorrow night, so be ready. And Gunner? You are a dick.”

I toss my hair out of my face and stomp through the opening of the tent, leaving a trail of watery footsteps behind me.

C
urrent Day

Gunner

“
Y
ou’re a dick
.” Dane slides a cardboard coaster toward me. Dastardly Bastards isn’t officially open yet, but Dane puts in an order with his cook. Being friends with the owner has its perks. The smell of cooking onions should make my mouth water, but I feel sick.

I’m worse than some teenager with his first bad crush and unable to sleep because I can’t quit thinking about a girl.

“Yeah. So I’m a dick.” I put my elbows on the bar and lean forward. “I messed up. She makes me crazy.”

He nods as if he knows exactly what I mean. Of my friends, Dane is the one with a string of girlfriends. He knows something about the ladies, or I’d never confess my fuck-up to him.

“Maybe you should back off from her right now,” he says. “Get through filming the show and then go after her. What’s the hurry? Want me to ask Josie what she thinks you should do?”

I glare at him. “Why the hell would I ask Josie?”

He places a glass of soda in front of me. “Women know these things. We don’t think like they do. Plus she’s Kiley’s cousin.”

“Huh. I didn’t know that.”

Maybe he’s right, but I’m not letting him broadcast my dick moves to the world. “This conversation is between you and me and the walls.” I pause when the cook brings a king-sized plate of breakfast to me. “Thanks, man,” I say to the cook.

The guy nods, passes me a bottle of hot sauce, and disappears to the back again.

I take a large bite of egg. I’m not even hungry, but I didn’t eat yesterday after Tony returned to pick Kiley up. She’d spent the morning sitting inside his tent and avoiding me. I swallow, then make a production of cutting my food into tiny bites.

Dane stops polishing a handle on a beer tap. “Listen. You have to do the TV show. You can’t get out of it. You’re supposed to really try to get to know these women. Why not make that work for you? Make her jealous. From my experience, the minute you’re with another woman, you’re a chick magnet. If she feels like you do like one of them, it will drive her nuts. She’ll reconsider turning you down. Trust me.”

“Hm,” I grunt, not liking this idea at all. When we were kids, Dane led me into more disasters than I can count, purely on his confidence. “That’s a terrible idea.”

“You asked what I’d do. That’s all I got.”

“This kind of thing works for you?”

He grins and shakes his head as if I’m naive. “Every time.”

“You’re a bigger dick than I am.”

He gives me a cocky grin. “I’ve never said I wasn’t. I need to get myself a T-shirt that says, ‘Big Dick.’ Maybe I’ll buy two and give you the other one.”

I roll my eyes and stuff another bite of sausage and egg into my mouth. I should’ve known better than to talk to him about my problems.

“When do you film your next date on the show?” Dane’s phone vibrates, bumping along the top of the wood bar, and he checks the screen. “Josie’s here.”

“She hang out with you a lot?” I glance around at the empty bar. I guess I’d thought I would be the only one barging in on Dane this early.

“She’s bringing me something.”

“A Big Dick shirt?”

He points at me. “Funny and a very good guess, but no. She’s bringing me a book.”

“Why?” It’s good to have something else to concentrate on besides my own misery.

“She wants me to read it. I’m going with her to a book signing in Bowling Green next Friday night.”

I take my time with the next question since Dane seems to be squirming behind the counter. “Why? That kind of thing sounds more like Leo than you. Also, does he know you’re banging his sister?”

“I’m doing no such thing.”

“Really?” I eye him to see if my bullshit meter goes off.

“We’re friends. She doesn’t think of me like that.”

But it’s written on his face that he’s not happy about the status with Josie. This is baffling to me since he’s never hesitated to go after a girl he wants.

“And you’re the one giving
me
advice,” I say. “Man. We’re a sorry pair.”

The kitchen door opens and Josie—obviously so comfortable she enters through a rear entrance—strolls toward us.

“Oh, hi, Gunner. How’s it going?” she says.

I give her a chin nod. “Good. You?”

“Couldn’t be better,” she answers.

She’s a happy little thing. I study her, looking to find a resemblance to Kiley now that I know they’re cousins. Both have dark hair, beautiful eyes, and olive skin. Other than those things, they don’t really look alike.

Josie’s the girl next door, the brainy but sweet girl who doesn’t call you out for being a dumbass. Kiley? Kiley’s the type guys turn to watch as she walks down a street. She’s more along the lines of supermodel next door.

Throwing a new paperback book on the bar, she drops into the stool beside me. “How’s the dating show?”

“It’s good.”

I look down at my plate and cram a large bite into my mouth. I really don’t want to talk about the show that has become the worst thing to happen to me since I’ve moved back to Nashville. Being around Kiley is going to be torture now that she’s made it clear she won’t have anything to do with me.

Dane places a water glass in front of Josie and picks up the book. “Gunner has it bad for Kiley.”

My head pops up and I glare at him. The loud sound of my own heart beating is about the only thing I can hear in the bar. I didn’t think it was necessary to tell him to keep his mouth shut about what had happened, but I was obviously wrong.

Josie clears her throat. “Then you and I need to talk, but you have to promise not to tell her anything I say to you.”

I shake my head. I don’t want to know her secrets and I sure as hell don’t like it that she knows mine. “I’m not the one with a big mouth.”

Dane gives me an out-of-character serious look. “You weren’t around when Kiley had a hard time.”

“What do you mean by that?” I frown at him and glance over at Josie for an explanation.

He shrugs. “You’d moved by then and stuff happened in high school. Stupid stuff.”

Josie takes a sip of water while she stares at him. “Kiley’s been one of my best friends for a long time, but I don’t get to see her much anymore. What Dane knows and what I know are two wildly different things. He knows the rumors. I know the facts. And I don’t know much, only what I can piece together.”

“Is someone going to tell me this big secret or are you both going to hint around all day?” I squirm on the barstool.

“Has Kiley mentioned her mother to you?” Josie’s mouth dips at the corners.

“No.”

“Uncle Ed and Kiley’s mom got divorced when Kiley was pretty young. They had joint custody and pretty much hated each other. Kiley did this back and forth thing where she’d split her time between houses. Something happened to Kiley when we were juniors. I’m not going to tell you the rumors. They’re too ugly. But Kiley’s mom threw Kiley out and never spoke to her again.”

“Hm. So they had a disagreement.” My chest tightens at the thought of Kiley upset. It’s tough to have family turn their back on you. I should know.

“No, it was more. Kiley’s mom was on husband number four. She kicked him out after Kiley’s fight with her. So you can imagine what the rumors were. Kiley changed after that. She’d been bold and confident before. But high school can be a rough place for the gossip mongers. They had a field day because she’d been everyone’s princess. You know?”

I stare down at my plate of cold food, definitely not hungry after hearing Josie’s story that I almost wish I didn’t know.

Josie touches my arm so I’ll look up at her. “Kiley has Ed—a man who’s never made it a secret that his career takes priority over his daughter. She has me and Leo and really no friends to speak of. And now she has an ex-fiancé. I wanted you to know that she’s more fragile than she seems.”

An impatient customer jiggles the locked outer door and Dane jogs to open it. Light streams inside and a group of girls stomp into the entry, laughing and ready to start their party. The one in the middle wears a white hat with the word ‘Bride’ in large glittery letters across the front.

Josie sips her water and shoots eye daggers at the group of young females flirting with Dane as he seats them around a large table.

He might not be banging her, but something is definitely going on.

“Thanks, Josie,” I say.

“I did it for her, not you. I don’t know what you’re going to do about the show, but I don’t want you to hurt her.”

Even though Dane tries to comp my meals any time I’m here, I throw a twenty on the counter. “I’ll do my best not to.”

K
iley calls
me at sun up saying that we’ll be doing a morning date instead of an evening one. She’s matching me with a new woman today. No second chance for Addison.

After a night of tossing in my bed, I’ll be lucky if I notice I’m on a date. I’m like the living dead today. I rub a hand over my scruffy face and decide to leave it like it is. It fits my mood.

I arrive at the indoor shooting range. Of all the places I’d imagined to do these dates, this certainly didn’t make the list. Kiley is missing, but I assume she’s running late or simply out of sight.

The empty stalls give off a funhouse vibe. When I approach, I’m a little surprised. My date wears loose-fitting jeans, cowboy boots, and a pale yellow button-down. She’s attractive, but not in a showy way. She stands in the middle stall with earmuffs hanging loosely on the back of her neck.

“Hi, I’m Melanie. It’s nice to meet you again,” she says.

“Gunner.” I take her extended hand and shake it. I barely remember her.

“Yeah. I know. I look forward to a good time out here. I hope to stick around longer than the last ones. I would’ve had a blast on the camping trip. I wouldn’t have thrown myself at you.”

I raise an eyebrow. Do the ladies share their date information? I’m confused.

She motions to the platform where we’ll stand. “I guess you don’t read social media.”

In this moment, I stumble, mentally and physically. I shift to look at Tony who gives me a meaningful look. The we’ll-talk-later look.

“You don’t know what I’m talking about,” she mumbles in a low voice.

“Hell no.”

Melanie furrows her brow and shifts her attention to the range. She puts on her goggles and motions to mine that lay on a side table. “You shoot a 9mm before?”

“No. I have experience with rifles, but that’s it.”

“Perfect.” She radiates confidence. “This will be fun.”

My date with Melanie begins with a bang. The camera crew lurks two feet behind us. I’ve practically stepped on one of the camera guys as he walks on my heels. He certainly isn’t worried about a stray bullet.

This isn’t Melanie’s first rodeo with a gun. She’s practically a sharp shooter and teases me with comments about my aim and stance. Although some guys might be threatened by her efforts to give shooting tips, I’m not.

She hasn’t asked me about my family or favorite food or the last movie I watched. Melanie is the perfect date for a guy who likes competition and women who don’t talk unless there’s something important to be said.

Kiley finally shows up after an eternity of me sneaking looks over my shoulder. Even though I can’t make out her words, the music of her voice plucks tighter than a fiddle string.

High. Tense. Abrupt.

At least it’s directed at Tony and not me.

More worrisome is that she’s not looking my way. If I didn’t know better, I’d think she’s avoiding me. A person might think she doesn’t care one whit that I’m on a date with another woman.

Maybe I should reconsider Dane’s advice about making her jealous.

When the hour of shooting ends, we take off our gear. Melanie gives me a friendly smile. “I’d love to take you to dinner tonight.”

I focus on her. It’s really not her fault that I’m so distracted. “OK.”

“I know a little pizza place. Can I come pick you up?”

“I can come get you.”

“Oh,” she looks wide-eyed in Tony’s direction, then returns her gaze to me. “I’m supposed to pick you up. Those are the rules. I’ll be at your place at seven.”

So much for being a gentleman and for spontaneity. “Sounds like a plan.”

Melanie leans forward to give me a loose hug. “Here’s my phone number,” she whispers and tucks something into my hand. Then she pretends she hasn’t said a thing as she waves at me and leaves the building.

I have no idea why her request makes me nervous.

Tony strides across the room and claps me on the back. “That went well.”

The camera crew back off and Kiley hangs close to the makeup artist who powdered my nose earlier. She’s wearing a loose black dress that covers her from neck to ankle as if she’s ready for a funeral.

Tony waits for my reply and I fold my arms across my chest. “I thought the show was being recorded for later. What did Melanie mean by social media?”

“Due to the stunt you pulled this weekend, we’re in jeopardy of fans losing interest. Someone leaked some clips from the camping weekend.”

“What do you mean someone did? Who?”

“Exactly what I said. I don’t know who or how. Roy swears that the cameras haven’t been out of his sight. There were other people at the campground. People with cell phones now are as bad as the paparazzi.”

“Can I see the social media you’re talking about?”

Tony’s eyebrows knit. “Go look it up on Facebook or Twitter. Tumblr. It’s everywhere.”

“Will do,” I say, even though I really don’t. I do understand what he means, only I don’t use any of those tools. I’m connected with the people I want to stay in touch with in real life, not some pretend world online.

Kiley pulls her thin silver bracelets up her arm and lets them fall. She does this a couple of times as she talks to the makeup girl. We make eye contact and the air vibrates with energy. Wild, electrical, burn-your-house-down energy.

I frown at her.

She turns on her heel and disappears outside. I stroll quickly after her until I reach the parking lot, only to see her pulling out in her SUV.

My phone buzzes in my pocket. I answer, half-relieved that it’s Dane. Otherwise, I’d be tempted to jump in my Jeep and haul ass after her. It’s best to let her go for now if she’s needing some space.