By the time I'd found the courage to leave the bathroom, three people had left. One remained, and judging by the frown across his forehead, he was as confused as I was. Instead of sitting down while waiting like a regular person would, Tom stood in the middle of the living room, arms crossed.
"Where are the others?" I asked.
"They left."
"Why?" I wasn't even sure why I asked. I had a pretty good idea why they'd left us alone, but I wanted to buy myself some time. Fleeing into the bathroom again wasn't an option. To find my center, I took a deep breath and tried to relax my shoulders.
"We need to talk," he said, serious and perhaps a little bit intimidating in a sinfully sexy sort of way that I'd rather not consider.
"True. I'll get us some water." Speeding into the kitchen, I tried to slow my thoughts. I had to keep a level head for this to work out—if I even wanted it to work out. I wasn't sure. Tom was as hot as steaming cocoa, but getting married to the guy was a bit of a stretch. I knew next to nothing about him.
My hands shook as I retrieved two glasses from the shelf—part from excitement and part fear. If he was a sensible guy, he would go back on his word and reject Dante's idiotic proposal. I chuckled at the thought. In my head, a proposal was the epitome of romantic, in a cheesy kind of way, but this wasn't only an administered third party proposal, it was a fake one. I doubted it could get any less romantic.
I returned to the living room, barely breathing as I gave Tom his glass. Our gazes met briefly, and I tried a smile before I took a seat on the sofa.
He didn't move, increasing the distance between us in more ways than one.
"I'm listening," I said, leaning back and attempting a casual pose.
Tom's rigid stance caved beneath a heavy sigh, and he claimed a seat on the other end of the sofa. Less distance, but still distant. "This is a bad idea."
My heart sank like a rock. "I think it's a fabulous idea." It wasn't, but his attitude lured out my you-say-no-I-say-yes personality.
He rolled his eyes, and for a brief moment, I glimpsed something of the man hiding behind that steely exterior. It was a guy who needed to let loose a little. The realization unleashed my confidence, and when I smiled, it was a real one.
"I get to stay, you get a husband, and we can live happily for the rest of our lives." I raised my glass in a mock toast.
He shook his head. "You're never serious, are you?"
"Seriousness is overrated. And, besides, if you're the serious one, I have to be the yin to your yang. Or maybe it's the other way around. I can't remember which one is the sun."
One of his eyebrows rose. I scooted closer. "Stop, you're making me jealous. I've always wanted to do that. I can only do with both. It's much cooler with one." I showed him my less than perfected skills of trying to arch one eyebrow.
The bewilderment flashing in his eyes was precious. I was making him uncomfortable, but he would have to get used to me at one point or another. Scooting even closer, I made sure to invade as much personal space as I could get away with. "Look, yin and yang." I held out my arm against his, comparing his striking skin with my next to translucent one. "We'll be perfect."
He tried to inch away, but the arm rest on the sofa captured him on the other side. "There is no we."
"Oh, but I think there is. We'll even get a signature on it."
"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?"
"Not sure."
He frowned and placed the bag on the floor. "Man, I don't think I've ever seen you looking less than happy." He approached and slung his arms around me. "Are you sure this is a good idea?"
"No. Not really." I didn't have it in me to act cheery.
"You know, Tom is a hard nut to crack, but I think you'd be good for him."
I tensed in Chris' arms. "We won't be a real couple, so don't get your hopes up."
"You're not a real couple yet, but who knows?"
I wormed free and backed away. "Seriously, Chris. The guy is not interested. I'm not going to fling myself at him again and again to get rejected. Besides, I don't want to get anyone in trouble." I couldn't allow myself to hope for more, not while Tom kept sending confusing signals that messed with my brain.
"Lara wouldn't let anyone get in trouble. It'll work out." He went back to his groceries and plucked an item from the bag. "But, it's a good thing I've got ice cream, then."
The sheepish smile thrown my way was enough to lift my spirits. "You got me ice cream? You're such a dreamy boyfriend."
Meeting him halfway, I placed a peck right on his lips. "You know how to treat a guy."
He shook his head, but I caught a hint of relief in his features. No one liked to see me sad, and I'd learned at an early age to keep it all at bay.
We settled in the living room with two bowls of triple chocolate ice cream and a movie. It was a shame to stay inside when the weather was beautiful, but I was happy to relax for a bit. An afternoon in the sofa, looking at hot men on the screen, would be the perfect amount of distraction and wouldn't require anything of me.
The cold deliciousness soothed my poor aching heart by freezing my teeth. Pain displacement. It worked a treat until my spoon came up empty. Empty. A relationship with nothing in it would definitely be empty, which was yet another reason to change my mind and find some other solution. Perhaps I could start over somewhere else. Find new friends, a new life. Again. But then, I liked it here.
Resting my head on Chris' shoulder, I forgot to watch the screen and got lost in thoughts of Tom. When I found them spiraling out of control, I realized that I had to know more. My imagination would just ruin everything if I didn't have anything solid to go on.
"Can you tell me about him?" I asked.
"About Tom?"
"Yes. Who else?"
"Honestly, I don't know much about him."
"You're marrying me off to a dude you don't know?"
Chris chuckled, sending vibrations that only made me want to sit closer. "I love Tom. I think he saved my sanity when Dante and I met. His sarcasm kept me hanging in there for some reason."
"Tell me more."
"He's incredibly loyal. If you have him on your side, he's the best. Dante loves him, too. I think Tom became sort of like a father to him when Dante joined Lara as a 13-year-old."
"But he's not that much older." I could totally see him as a father figure, though. He had a calm air around him that fooled you into trusting him. I wasn't sure if that was a good or a bad thing.
"True, he's not old, but he comes off as a lot older. I don't know his story, but he must have started working for Lara when he was rather young. If he took responsibility for Dante at that point, that must have matured him if he wasn't already mature when he started working for her." He let out a soft 'hmm'. "I should probably ask him about this, but he's never mentioned his family or anything."
I could tell that Chris felt bad about knowing so little about a man he saw plenty of. "You can ask him, then tell me what he said."
"Why don't you ask him? If anyone should get to know him, it's you. I mean, you'll be living together."
I jerked awake from my lazy state. "What?"
I really hadn't thought this through.
"It's highly likely that someone from the USCIS comes to check on you if they think you married for the wrong reasons. I'm pretty sure you have to show that you live together in order for this to work. You'll get interviewed and stuff."
The information was enough to freak me out, but I'd had enough of bad spells in one day. "That's awesome news. I'm all for sleeping in his bed."
Chris didn't have to know the turmoil inside my slowly cracking mind. No one needed to know that I didn't have a clue about anything, or that I couldn't make sense of my feelings for Tom.
But, maybe he would change his mind if I wormed my way inside. Living with him might not be such a bad idea, after all.
Time would tell. In any event, we had a wedding to attend to first.
"Will you be my best man?"
Chris grinned from ear to ear. "Of course, but only if you stop calling me sweet cheeks."
I stuck out my lower lip, trying the puppy eyes. When he didn't relent, I crossed my arms. "Fine, I'll find another nickname." A temporary one. He'd get his old one back as soon as the wedding was over, and by then, I was sure he would be grateful to get it back.