Attraction - a fraudulent marriage

8. fraudulent is the way to go

"I hope you know they can throw you out from the US with no hope of ever returning if they realize we're not getting married for real."

"Then they're mean. And, who are they?" Perhaps I should have been more worried, but the fact that I was pressed up against hot stuff and more or less engaged to the man made me a bit giddy and unfocused.

"The USCIS."

"The what?"

"The US Citizenship and Immigration Service." He shook his head again. "You really don't know what you're getting yourself into."

"A marriage."

"A fraudulent one," Tom remarked.

I put my finger on his lips. "Semantics."

With precise motor skills, he slowly removed my hand. "You're in my face." I could tell that he meant both literally and figuratively. At the same time, the electrified tension between us couldn't be entirely one-sided. It wasn't possible. Right? It takes two to tango, after all.

"That's because you have a great face." I got the one-brow twitch in response, and if I hadn't exerted all restraint I could command, I would have kissed him right there.

"Don't."

"Don't do what?" I inched closer, relishing in the gentle caress of his breaths touching my skin.

"I've already agreed to help you out. Don't make me change my mind. Just, please be serious for once."

His tone worried me, but I couldn't deal with serious right now. "How will flattery change your mind?"

"This has nothing to do with romance." He faltered, staring at his hands. "It's a transaction. A favor I'm doing for those I care about."

"But transactions can be fun." I smacked my lips. "Sex is fun."

The stare I got in response was enough to halt my tumultuous thoughts. He rose from the sofa, straightening his suit with a kind of finality. "Then prepare to break your marriage vows."

I leaned back, averting my eyes to stare out at the clear blue sky. Perhaps it was best to give up. Banging my head against a wall would mess up my hair, and most probably my confidence. I sighed and stood up in front of him, keeping a respectable distance. "Thank you for helping me."

He seemed perplexed at my change of tone. Slowly, something in his eyes softened, making my decision infinitely more difficult. "Don't make me regret it."

"I won't." I fought the urge to wrap my arms around him. I wanted to melt away his indifference and replace it with attraction, but even I could see that baby steps were the right way to go.

The tension evolved until it became overwhelming and morphed into something entirely different. The silence vibrated with a reality I hadn't wanted to contemplate.

"You're making us all complicit. Lara will work on sorting out paperwork and backdating records of you living in my apartment."

The seriousness of the situation hit me like a sledgehammer. I shouldn't have said yes to this. I could still stop it, but for some reason I couldn't find my voice. Nausea threatened but I had nowhere to run. There was no way I could banter myself out of this.

Tom left the apartment awhile later. The silence had been solid and uncomfortable, and my bad conscience made it all worse.

* * * *

I didn't calm down until an hour later when I heard someone wiggle the door handle. Chris entered, carrying a bag of groceries.

"Hey, how did it go?"