Joey arrives back at my apartment. Instead of stopping in front to drop me off, he pulls into a parking spot on the side of the street.
"You didn't have to park, I can go up myself," I tell him.
He points over by the front entrance and I look to find a couple men standing with cameras. This never happens, they must have looked up my address or followed us here. This is awful, I wasn't expecting the attention and lack of privacy to literally follow me everywhere.
"We're supposed to get caught at each other's apartments anyway," Joey reminds me of one of the contract clauses.
"On the first date?"
"They don't know which date it is, we could have been dating for months by now," Joey makes a really smart point.
"That's true," I comment, surprised he thought of that and I didn't.
"Guess I'm staying the night," he begrudges and then gets out of the car.
He walks around and opens my door for me. Instantly, I hear the cameras going off. There's only three of them this time so it's not as bad. We quickly walk to my building and my doorman greets me and opens the door for us.
We get up to my penthouse apartment. Joey walks around, I assume he lives in a penthouse as well.
"Nice place," he comments.
"Thanks," I respond plainly.
He takes his jacket off and drops it on my couch. I don't make a comment about his manners, I assume there's no hope in that department.
"So, uh... you need anything?" I offer, not sure what to do now.
"Nope," he says and then plops onto the couch and turns my tv on.
"You want to borrow some pajamas or something?" I ask, even though his disregard for being in my home is getting on my nerves.
He gives me a funny look.
"I dont need pajamas, I'll just sleep in my underwear," he answers in a judgmental tone.
"Alright," I huff out an annoyed breath.
I take off my own jacket and go to the closet to hang it up properly.
"You wear pajamas?" Joey brings up again the moment I walk back in the room.
"Yes - they're silk, they're very nice," I argue.
Joey turns back to the tv and shakes his head while snickering.
"Okay, you don't have to make fun of me. You're supposed to be my fake other half," I complain.
He genuinely chuckles at that comment.
"Well, there's no cameras here so I just have to stick it out till the morning."
I roll my eyes.
"Sorry this is such a burden for you," I grumble and then slouch down into the arm chair that's next to the couch.
I can see from the corner of my eye that Joey looks over at me. I'm expecting another snide remark or complaint. Instead, he keeps staring at me until I finally look back at him.
"What?" I express my annoyance with him.
"You're so tense," he observes.
This catches me off guard.
"No, I'm just... not relaxed," I try to reason.
"I think you need to get laid," he says blatantly.
I feel my face turn red from the accusation that I'm sexually frustrated.
In reality, I haven't gotten laid in months, but I'm sure most of the tension I'm experiencing right now is from dealing with his annoying ass.
"Well, I'm very busy," I lamely respond.
Joey narrows his eyes at me.
I know I'm not winning this argument.
"What do you want me to say?" I blurt out mainly from the embarrassment of this confrontation.
"Nothing," he shrugs and turns back to the tv. It seems like he's dropping the subject.
I close my eyes, relieved the conversation is over - until two seconds later he has more to say.
"I was thinking..." he starts.
"That's new," I can't help, but comment.
He turns to give me an offended look.
I don't apologize even though I normally would.
He sighs before continuing.
"Since we can't be seen with anyone else for the next few months, maybe we should make it easy for ourselves," he suggests.
Unfrotuantely, I'm unsure what he's suggesting.
"Make what easier?" I try to clarify.
"Getting laid."
My body freezes when he says it. Is he actually suggesting that we have sex? Is it bad that my first thought is: I can't believe he would sleep with me? I know I should be turned off by his arrogance, rudeness and desperate need for attention and fame... but the truth is, he's really attractive. And he's probably out of my league if I'm being honest. And the idea of sleeping with him is kind of... hot.
"So, what are you saying?" I ask, way too scared to make the assumptions I'm already making.
"Isn't it obvious?" he says simply, raising his eyebrows at me.
I feel my skin getting hot, my heart is beating faster suddenly.
I don't know how to respond.
"I thought you were the smart one," he taunts me.
"I am," I claim.
"Then prove it," he challenges me.
Now, I'm terrified. I don't make moves like this. I haven't even had sex in nearly a year and now I'm really about to have sex with this conceited, rich actor? Am I standing up? I am. I think I'm walking over to him too. He's watching me walk over to him. He's just waiting patiently as I'm taking my shirt off. I see my shirt drop to the floor and watch as the ends of his mouth curve into a devilsh smile.
I climb onto his lap and his fingers immediately dig into my waist. He pulls me closer to him. I lean down and claim his lips. They're soft, but his response is rough. He doesn't waste any time. The rest of our clothes come off, but we don't move from the couch. No, instead I have sex with my pretend boyfriend in the middle of my living room. And the worst part is, I like it.