Chapter 3

Chapter

Three

brOOKLYNN

I don't sleep. Can't sleep. I sit straight up, my body covered in a sheen of sweat. I look around and wonder what could have woken me. My eyes are bleary as I look around and blink at the digital clock on my nightstand.

It's seven in the morning.

The last time I was up this early was for a flight. Nothing other than the promise of champs on an airplane could make me wake up at this ungodly hour. It takes me a moment to get up, and then it hits me all over again.

I'm going to be Forrest Westwood's fake girlfriend.

Holy shit.

My heart slams against my chest. It beats so wildly that I have to place my hand against the center just to make sure that it doesn't burst through my body and land on my lap. Throwing my legs over the side of the bed, I force myself to stand and go to the bathroom.

I'm too full of anxious energy to go to sleep right now. My body feels like every single nerve is on fire, pulsing with unendurable intensity. I should probably do a calming yoga session, but I decide on a run instead. I'm antsy and need to have a release of some kind.

Quickly, I dress in my running clothes, lace up my shoes, and slip on my headphones before I grab my cell and I'm out the door. My feet pound against the pavement, one foot in front of the other, my running playlist on shuffle, and I get lost.

It's what I need, the only thing that can clear my mind. And I've got a lot of stuff jumbling around in my head right now. Just when I decide that I need to get myself together to make a more cohesive schedule, Forrest comes at me with this.

How am I supposed to be able to get my shit together if he is throwing this wrench into the mix? I said yes, but I'm not sure I can really pretend to be his girlfriend without it being more or turning into more. I want him too damn badly.

I'm going to have to find someone to have sex with, someone to take the edge off. There is no amount of running that is going to cure my sexual frustration with this man. Goose bumps break out over my skin, even though it's a humid morning, at the thought of Forrest and sex.

He doesn't want me that way, no matter how he watches me. I'm sure he doesn't. No doubt he has the same unspoken philosophy as I do. Don't shit where you eat. But thinking about going away with him for days and pretending to be his girlfriend… I don't think even the strongest woman could handle that.

And I'm really not that strong, at least when it comes to physical relationships.

When I'm rounding the corner to the neighborhood, my feet falter at the sight of Forrest leaning against the side of his car, his arms crossed over his chest and his eyes focused on me.

God.

Yeah, I am not going to be able to refrain from jumping him.

I slow down and stop in front of him. I'm not sure why, maybe because he was silently willing me to make my way over to him, maybe because I'd been running for a while, and the entire time, all I could think about was him.

Jesus. I'm a whole-ass mess.

Tilting my head back, I look into his eyes, giving him a smile as I take my headphones off to hear whatever it is he has to say.

"You went out running?" he asks.

Although I think it's pretty obvious, I'm not sure why I feel the need to answer the question. I glance down at my watch, and my brows rise at the distance I put in before I shift my gaze back to meet his.

"Six miles," I say. "I only planned on three."

"You ran by yourself for six miles?" he asks.

Pressing my lips together, I roll them a few times before I tilt my head to the side. I'm confused, not only by his question but also by his obvious irritation. I can't imagine that he would be irritated with the fact that I was running.

"I did. Usually, I do three miles, but I got lost in my head, so it ended up being six."

Forrest clears his throat and dips his chin slightly, his gaze searching mine. "Alone."

"Do you have a problem with me running alone, Forrest?" I chance asking when it's clear that he does indeed have a problem.

I want clarification, though. We've been neighbors for a while, and he's just now realizing that I go for runs alone. Which is crazy to me, considering he's always watching me. Maybe I've gone when he's been working or training. I've never really paid attention.

"It's not safe, Brook. I don't think you should run alone."

Sweet. Really, it is. But at the same time… just because I'm a woman doesn't mean I can't do something alone. It's not like I'm running at three o'clock in the morning, in the dark, with no phone. I'm being completely safe.

"Is this how you start being my fake boyfriend?" I ask. "By telling me what and how to do things?"

He snorts, dropping his arms to his sides. Then he lifts his hand and cups my cheek. His thumb slides across my bottom lip, his eyes never shifting from my own. They're connected to mine.

"No, Brook. I just want to keep you safe." His hand drops from my face, and he slides his fingers through his hair, tugging on the ends. "You know, as a friend," he says, finishing his thought.

A friend .

"Thanks, but I'll be good. Make sure you text me the exact dates I need to move my schedule around."

Without another word, I turn my back to him and walk away.

FORREST

I watch her ass as she walks away from me and moves toward her driveway. It's a great fucking view, even if she pissed me off a bit. I know she's all about being an independent woman, but I still don't want anything to happen to her.

"Brook," I call out when she reaches her driveway.

She looks over her shoulder at me. Her eyes are narrowed, and I know she's annoyed, which only makes me smile. She's sexy as fuck when she's irritated. I might continue keeping her this way just because it's adorable.

"Forrest?" she says in response.

"You want to go for a run? Ask me to go with you. Just for safety. I run all the time."

She arches a brow, and her eyes narrow a little more. "Are you kidding me right now?" she asks. "You want me to call you every time I want to go for a run? That's ludicrous."

It's my turn to narrow my eyes as I look directly at her. "It's not," I say. "Wanting to keep you safe isn't ludicrous."

She turns around to face me fully, her lips parting as if she's going to say something, but then she snaps them together and rolls them a few times before she speaks. When she does, it's clear that this is going to be a point of contention.

"I'm not going to text you every time I feel the urge to run," she states. Then her eyes slide down to her feet before she brings them back up to meet my own. Her voice is a bit softer and less irritated when she speaks again. "But I do appreciate that offer. It's very sweet."

She walks away again, and this time, I let her. Although the entire time, my thoughts shift between her ass looking fucking amazing in her running leggings and the fact that I wasn't trying to be sweet. Instead, I just wanted to keep her safe so I can fuck her soon. It's simply as selfish as that.

Plus, I just plain like her as a person.

"You are so fucking gone for her," Alexei says.

Ripping my gaze from the closed front door, I look over at him. He's standing a few feet away, his lips curved into a grin as he watches me. Rolling my eyes, I snort but don't say anything immediately.

I'm not exactly sure what to tell him because the last thing I want to do is go into detail. If I do, he's really going to think I'm into her. And honestly, I am, but I don't want to admit it to him before I've even fully admitted it to myself.

And I'm not ready to do that yet.

"She's helping me out with some family shit, that's all."

He hums, shaking his head. "Hate to tell you, but you're in denial over that girl. I'll just start saving my money to buy you out of the house because you're the next one to fucking fall," he grumbles, then turns and walks toward his car.

I watch as he climbs inside and starts the engine. Then he's gone. But his words aren't. They live fucking rent-free in my head, and I'm not sure I'm ready to push them out. Because he's right. I'm fucking gone for her.

I've been gone for her since the moment I laid eyes on her. I know this is an excuse, the whole fake girlfriend gig. I could make her my real girlfriend and accomplish the same shit.