Chapter 22

12.3K 274 53
                                    

I'M BACK! Long break, I know, but there was a lull in my writing because I just didn't feel motivated and I had no idea where any of this was going... But, don't fret, I found it and planned the whole rest of the story. So, we're good. Just check out believe to humor me and then read on!

PLEASE READ!

 One of my friends has a band called Alexander France, and they're really good. Like, legit. They're Canadian and are working on finishing their EP which should be out in a couple months or so. If you're interested in checking them out (and see what kind of music I'm into... heh) look up www.alexanderfrance.bandcamp.com and listen to 2 of their songs. :) If you do, and you like it, I'd love to know what you think.

~

 Chapter 22~

 *Geek's PoV*

  "Man, I can't believe we discovered their trail!" Carl whooped triumphantly. He elbowed me in a comradely manner and grinned. "Not to mention, you're lucky Boss is letting you back on the case without putting you through hell and back."

 I rolled my eyes. "Like I've tried telling you, for whatever reason the Boss favors me."

 "Don't need to always bring it up, you insensitive douche," Carl muttered jealously. I laughed and we drove to a nearby cafe where we sat down with manly black coffees.

 "So, when do you think we'll be placed on the hit?" Carl asked, leaning back in his chair. He shot a flirty wink at one of the baristas who was making rounds and re-filling coffees. She pursed her lips and eyed him, nodding with a sultry smile.

 I watched on with disinterest at their little game, letting myself indulge in wondering about Ainsley.

 Carl smacked the table abruptly, and I had to freeze all of my muscles in order not to pull my gun on him when my instincts kicked in.

 His eyes twinkled and he cupped a hand to the side of his mouth before leaning in conspiratiorially. "I'm gonna be busy tonight," he chanted egotistically. I narrowed my eyes and forced my hand off of my holster.

 "Is that literally all you think about?" I demanded.

 He smirked cheekily. "No. I also think about how relaxing it is to shoot a guy before he gets the chance to shoot me in the ass. Great stress reliever, shooting a cocky jerk is."

 "You are a cocky jerk," I mumbled under my breath. "But honestly. How... in the hell.., did you ever get recruited?"

 Carl's smirk grew, if that was possible. "Well, you know in high school and college there's always that lame career day thing where these people set up stands and shell out brochures on all different jobs?"

 I nodded and arched a brow. Where was he going with this?

 "There was some lady manning the government stand and I can't remember what I did to get her attention, but one thing lead to another... and now I'm here," he said simply.

 I frowned. "Why would she have picked you?"

 Carl waggled his eyebrows insinuatingly and I groaned.

 "Seriously? What DON'T you sleep with? How are you still alive?" I asked incredulously.

 He calmly sipped his coffee and shrugged. "I like to live on the edge. Believe me, I'm surprised I've lasted so long too. You have no idea how many times I've nearly gotten my head blown off for sleeping with someone's wife."

 "Wife?!" I choked. "Are you an idiot with a death wish?"

 "Nah," Carl snickered. "It isn't my fault women throw themselves at me every time I walk into a bar. I'm helpless to defend myself from those determined vipers, so why not give in? It's merely physical attraction; no strings involved. They know that as well as I know that. No harm in enjoying life, eh?"

My Geek of a Fake Boyfriend Works for the CIA?Where stories live. Discover now