One Week Girlfriend part 1

kissed me and I was in his arms. His body rigid, as if he was holding himself back.
    I didn’t want him to hold back. Not then, and definitely not now. He puts up this façade for everyone and I’m starting to wonder exactly who is the real Drew. And does he even know?
    “I’ll call you tomorrow, okay? Be good.” I draw on the cig, hold the smoke in my lungs before I release it slowly. God, I know how bad this is for me but I can’t help it. Smoking relaxes me. And hanging out at this shitty country club dinner, I need as much relaxing as I can get.
    “Bye, Fabes.” No one else calls me that, just Owen. “Love you.”
    “Love you too,” I whisper, ending the call. I clutch the phone in a death grip since I don’t have a purse and I really don’t feel like shoving it in between my boobs.
    “Smoking kills, you know.”
    Drew’s sexy, deep voice washes over me and I glance over my shoulder, spotting him standing a few feet away. His hands are shoved in his pockets and the wind ruffles his dark hair.
    He looks irritated and so gorgeous with it I wish I could take a picture. So I could capture this single breathtaking moment for all eternity and always have it—and him—with me.
    “Following me?” I ask as I stub out the cigarette on the wooden railing. I don’t know what to do with it, so I leave it there like the total litterbug I’ve become.
    “I needed to get out of there.”
    “Me too,” I sigh. I turn my attention back to the golf course and just beyond, the ocean. I wonder if we’ll come back here so I can see this view in the daylight. These rich people have no idea what sort of beauty surrounds them. They see this every single day and it’s nothing special. They probably don’t even notice.
    I wonder what it’s like, to be that numb to such beautiful surroundings. Of course, I’m numb to the mundane that surrounds me on a daily basis. Maybe we all move through life comfortably numb. Reminds me of one of my mom’s favorite songs.
    “Is your brother okay?”
    “He’s fine.” I shrug. Drew’s only asking because he’s being polite. Standing outside, alone in the cold night air for only a few minutes, has made this situation between us clearer. And I need that, after the mind-boggling kiss we shared.
    He doesn’t care about me and I don’t care about him. We’re doing a job and that’s it. The kiss? A one-off, a way to let off steam because hey, spending all this time together in such close quarters and pretending to be a real couple is going to generate some…friction. Heat. Sexual chemistry.
    We have it. Chemistry. I can feel it now, pinging between us, singeing my skin. I feel his eyes on me, can hear him approach and now he’s standing next to me, his arms propped against the railing just like mine. He bumps his elbow into me in a friendly gesture and I shiver. The wind is like ice and it bites at my bared skin.
    “You’re cold.” His low murmur ripples along my nerve endings and I want to yell at him to back off.
    But I don’t.
    “Sort of,” I answer.
    He chuckles. “If I had a jacket, I’d make you wear it.”
    I don’t want him to act like a gentleman. Or like a kind, attentive boyfriend. I don’t want any of these…lies. What I need is reality. Cold, hard facts. I need to remember the money sitting in my bank account, the fact that he’s using me to push his family away. The fact that I’m using him to ensure temporary financial stability for my pitiful little family needs to stay prominent in my mind. I can’t forget it.
    “We should probably go inside,” I start to stay but he touches me, settles his big hand over mine and I shut up.
    “I can’t go back in there,” he says, his voice so low, I almost don’t hear him. “I can’t face them. Not yet. Stay out here with me.”
    Did something happen in there that I missed? He doesn’t seem too upset, but I don’t know him that well to tell. I don’t answer him, figure it’s best to remain quiet and try to reassure him and he doesn’t say anything either.
    But he does wrap his arm around my shoulders and haul me in close to him. I try to resist at first, stiffening my body so he can’t really move me. But it’s stupid to fight this, especially with the promise that he’ll warm me up.
    So I go. Let him guide me into his arms and he wraps them around me and I’m resting my hands on his hard, warm chest. His hands settle at the small of my back and I’m pressed against the railing, pressed