Fake It For Me, page 19
“So, son,” Dad said. “What’s one plus one?”
“Two,” I said confidently.
“Hmm,” Dad said thoughtfully. He unwrapped the Snickers Bar and bit down on the first piece. “Now. Do you think that that was an intelligent answer?” he asked with a mouthful of chocolate.
I frowned. “It was the right answer.”
“Yeah, but was it a smart answer?” Dad asked, still chewing. “I mean, sure, you got the right answer, but now you have to watch me eat this chocolate. If you’d answered wrong, you’d be eating it instead of me.”
Words could not explain the confusion I felt. “But it would have been wrong!”
“Yeah, I know that,” Dad nodded. “And you know that. So, what are you trying to prove? That you know the answer to the easiest question in the world? How important is that to you? It must be more important than the chocolate, which you forfeited to get the question right. See, Nicholas, the measure of a man’s intelligence, in my humble opinion, is how easily he gets the things he wants. Because like it or not, that’s what life is about. Life is about getting the things we want with the least effort necessary. If you’d answered three, yeah, you’d have got the question wrong, but you’d also have a chocolate bar. So, who would really be winning?”
With that, my Dad crammed the last piece of chocolate into his mouth. “Now,” he said, again through a mouthful of mashed-up chocolate, nougat, and peanut butter. “I almost forgot to mention this. What if I told you that you were kind of wrong, in a way, anyway?”
“Wrong?” I laughed this time. “Good one, Dad. Next, you’re going to tell me one plus one doesn’t equal two.”
“It doesn’t always,” my Dad shook his head.
I was now 100% sure that this was a trick. “I can’t wait for this explanation.”
Dad laughed. “Do you think you’re the first person to think I’m crazy for saying that?”
“No,” I shook my head.
“And yet I still say it,” Dad said. “Do you think I’m crazy?”
“Not at all.”
“Well then,” Dad said. “Let’s review this. Under the right circumstances, one plus one can equal one, as I asked you to say.”
I thought long and hard about this, having no desire to be hoodwinked again. “No, it can’t! I’ve thought about it this time, I gave it a long, hard think, and that’s impossible. When you add one to one, you get two. That’s just basic math.”
“Oh, is it?” Dad chortled. “Okay, let me give you another analogical example. You see drinking glasses, yeah?”
“Yeah, I’ve seen them,” I said sarcastically.
Dad glossed over the sarky quip like it had never even been said. “Imagine if I were to take one of those drinking glasses. And we can even go to the kitchen and do this in real life afterward if you want. So, yeah, imagine I were to take a completely empty, dry drinking glass. And then turn on the tap. Very gently, so water just drips down out of the dap, one drop after the other. Or if I took a pipette, full of water. And I dripped one drop of water into the bottom of the glass. How many drops of water would there be in the glass?”
I frowned at this, thinking it over. “And there was nothing in the glass before?”
“Completely dry,” Dad confirmed.
“Well, then there would be one drop in there,” I said, once again puzzled. “I don’t see where you’re going with this.”
“Well, then you’re less observant than I thought,” Dad remarked. “Because how many drops would there be if I dropped a second drop of water in the glass?”
I did not immediately answer this question. I scowled as it dawned on me. “One.”
“And if I did that ten more times, how many drops of water would I have in the glass?”
“One,” I said in a bored voice. “I get the picture.”
“See, Nicholas, like I said,” Dad said. “Intelligence is essentially being able to get your way. And knowing how to argue intelligently like I just did is an essential skill to getting your own way. And it’s pretty satisfying too. Nothing wrong with a side benefit.”
* * *
That was my Dad in a nutshell. Smug, opinionated, and always, always, always smarter than you. I couldn’t deny that he was very intelligent, nobody could deny that, but infuriating. Perhaps his intelligence had driven him to become even more arrogant than he already was. Too smart for his own good. But people who were obsessed with their own intelligence usually didn’t play well with others who were exactly like them. Sort of a “this city ain’t big enough for the both of us” kind of thing, but my Dad was not like that. He respected all that he thought were intelligent.
He often joked to me that if he’d had a daughter instead of a son, and if one day, her boyfriend had come to him asking for her hand in marriage, he’d demand that the boyfriend defeat him in an argument first to prove his worth. He’d always said it in a joking manner, but something told me that he was deadly serious about it.
Dad relished being the smartest man in the room, and he respected others who could do the same. I’ve often mentioned how I could never win an argument against my father, and I’ve never met anyone who could. And I’m of the opinion that my Dad can construct a convincing argument for literally anything, to even contradict the basest, simplest things that we all take as true and don’t question for a second.
My father has had lengthy discussions with religious people, and sent them away, doubting their own beliefs. He’s had lengthy discussions with atheist people and sent them running to find the nearest Bible, fearing for their own immortal soul. He’s managed to convince me of things that I never thought possible, things that would earn me the label “crazy” for saying out of context. Such as “time doesn’t exist” and et cetera.
Intelligence was my Dad’s legacy. He’ll be remembered for being the smug son of a bitch that nobody really liked because no one likes having a friend that you can never win an argument against, but that everybody loved because he was so smart. And I never thought I’d find myself saying those words.
The idea and intricacies of legacy have been really important to be as of late. Not just because the day is drawing ever closer where I’ll have a child of my own, someone to explain legacy to for myself, but because it’s finally hit me that the man who taught me everything I know will never see his grandchild. A month ago, Frank McConnery had a heart attack on a plane out of JFK and was without oxygen for eight minutes. Enough to be pronounced clinically braindead. My father was everything to me, and now that he’s gone, I understand why legacy was so important to him. And why it’s important to me now.
I used to strive as hard as I could to not turn out like Dad. I used to do everything in my power to sleight him and spite him. But now I realize I was an idiot. To be like my Dad would be the highest honor of which I am capable. He raised a son who married the most beautiful, kind, compassionate, and wonderful woman on God’s green Earth. And it’s all I can hope for that one day, Sandy and my child sees me in the same way that I see my father.
It’s funny. My Dad never told me he loved me. Not once, not ever. But he didn’t need to. He said it with his actions, almost every day. But I’ll say it with words. I love you, Dad.
I hope you enjoyed reading Fake It For Me. In the following pages, I have included an excerpt from my Amazon Bestseller - Lucky in Love. Check it out!
Excerpt
Want to know a secret?
I’m still in love with my high school sweetheart.
I know it sounds silly.
But his deep brown eyes and adorable dimples give me sleepless nights.
He abandoned me all those years ago.
I didn’t think he’d ever return.
And look at me.
I’m embarrassingly still holding on to my V-card.
But now that he’s back...
He’s hotter than ever.
A notorious playboy and rich as sin.
I made the mistake of trusting him once.
There’s no way I’ll put my heart on the line again.
A one-night stand?
Sure.
Falling in love and carrying his baby?
No chance in hell.
…Or is there?
Natasha
“Who is that?” Tara whispers into my ear, making me giggle as she does. “That isn’t Sam, is it?”
“Who the hell is Sam?” I hiss back. “I don’t even remember any Sam. Was he in our class?”
“Yes! He’s the quarterback. Did you never follow the jocks and the cheerleaders? All their drama?”
“Of course I didn’t. You know that. I was only into the drama kids and what we were doing.”
“Well, he’s the ex-boyfriend of Kayla, and since we’re here for her birthday party, you should try to catch up.”
I screw up my nose, still unable to believe that Tara managed to convince me to come for this dumb party. I hated Kayla, Sam, and the popular gang while we were in high school. I luckily wasn’t one of their targets, so I never got picked on, but that doesn’t mean I had any time for them at all. Three years later and I still don’t. Even less so because they have all been travelling and off to college, doing their exotic and fun things, and I’ve been stuck here. Waitressing, and barely making a living. It doesn’t make for an interesting conversation, does it?
I could have gone to college, and I would’ve if I didn’t flunk all of my final exams because of heart break. I keep thinking that I should go back and do my GED to make something of myself, but I don’t have the heart right now. I don’t much like doing anything other than just getting by. Getting through every day is enough.
“Why did you drag me here again?” I roll my eyes at Tara. “There isn’t anyone I want to see.”
“One, because we weren’t invited to any of the parties in high school, so it’s cool to finally have an invitation.”
“Everyone was invited!” I interrupt wryly. “And it’s just so Kayla can show off.”
“We don’t have to listen! Plus, two, I want to know what happened to everyone… or maybe not everyone but the people who came. Don’t you have that same morbid curiosity to know what’s going on?”
I shrug. I kinda do, I have to admit that. I’m just as nosy as everyone else and I really want to know what’s going on. But I don’t want people to see what’s happened to me… or more what hasn’t happened. Much as me and Tara will be looking at everyone else, they’ll be looking right back at us. Judging, gossiping, filling in the blanks for us and creating a version of our lives that might be too close to the truth for comfort.
“Oh shit.” Tara drags me out of my negative thoughts by grabbing my arm hard. “Look.”
I follow her eye line, expecting to see the face of yet another person I barely recognize from years ago. Someone else that I don’t really care about… but it isn’t. It’s the last person in the world I expect to see.
“Tony Compton,” I whisper in utter shock as the whole world stops around me. Everyone else pales into insignificance as I stare at the face who was never supposed to come back into my life. He’s supposed to be across the other side of the world, not at Kayla’s fucking birthday party! If I knew he was going to be here…
Well, I don’t know what I would have done. I might still be here, curiosity getting the better of me.
“Hey, you were with that dude for a while, weren’t you?” Tara nudges me in the side. “Before he left.”
‘With him’ doesn’t really describe what it was like. Not to me. It might have only been a short term relationship really, only five months, but in high school that is forever, and under the guise of puppy love, the intensity makes it seem even longer. We weren’t just together, for a short while, we were one another’s whole world. I went to sleep thinking about him, I woke up with him in my mind, he was with me all the time. We were supposed to be together forever, get married, have kids, all of it… he was my happy ever after and I didn’t think anything could change that. Not until the night he was stripped from my life suddenly and the heart break wrecked everything.
“I need to go,” I gasp while leaping from my seat. “I need to go to the bathroom…”
The walls are closing in on me, the air is thinning. I’m growing dizzier by the second. So, when Tara grabs me to prevent me from running, her look of concern only pisses me off. Can’t she see that I’m freaked out?
“Are you okay, Natasha? Is this an issue for you? I didn’t realize you had such strong feelings…”
“Oh no.” I laugh thinly. “No, that was years ago, and it was short, I just… need the bathroom, that’s all.”
Thankfully then she lets me go and I race to the bathroom to lock myself in a stall. I can’t face Tony now, I can’t speak to him. It’s awful. I know that it isn’t his fault he was taken from me. His parents broke up and his father left for England, taking him with him. He didn’t have a choice. But the last time that we saw one another, it still haunts me. We were alone together for the very first time. We had plans, we were naked, we were just about to sleep together for the very first time. It was all very shy, sweet, and romantic. The sort of perfect first time that you usually see in the movies. It was everything that I wanted and so much more. For me, it was the first day of the rest of our lives together. It was the next chapter in our happy ever after.
But then his cell phone rang, and his mother was hysterical. He had to run to help her. And then he was just gone. He vanished and the world crumbled around me, my future was no more.
Fuck, I think desperately as I slump onto the toilet seat and slam my head against the wall. I just need a few moments alone to get my head around everything. I mean, why the hell is he back now after all this time? Why is he here at Kayla’s birthday party? Did he know that I was going to be here too?
And most importantly, does he have to look better than he has ever done before?
Tony Compton was always tall, dark, and strikingly handsome. He first attracted me with his warm brown eyes, his wide smile, and his gorgeous dimples, but now he has incredible cheek bones as well. A body that looks incredibly muscular. He has really grown into the person that he was always meant to be.
I imagine him now with me, on that night, looking like he does right now. Leaning down, kissing me, laying me softly on the bed and stroking all over my skin to make me feel comfortable with this. It’s this feeling that I crave, that I haven’t ever been able to find with anyone else, which is why I’m still embarrassingly a virgin.
“Oh God,” I groan while throwing my head into my hands. “What the hell is wrong with me?”
But instead of focusing on the humiliation of that part, my brain continues to picture me in bed with this brand new Tony all over again. Him giving me that wonderfully loving look as he delicately slides his fingers between my legs. Me moaning and pressing my body against him as he touched my wetness, stroking me so passionately that he makes my body buck. But instead of laughing at me, he holds me tight to his chest and just holds me. I can feel his heart hammering against his rib cage as he plunges into me.
I slam my palm against the toilet walls as the desire buzzes through me. This memory is too much, it’s completely over powering me and swelling pleasure all the way through my body. Even my breaths sound ragged now. I don’t even know how the hell I’m supposed to stand up in this mess.
I slide back into my fantasy, barely noticing as my fingers slip into my panties. I follow the rhythm which he used to touch me because I remember it so well. If I think for hard enough then I can still feel him on me now. Then I remember touching him, holding his cock between my fingers and gasping as I imagined what it would feel like to have this part of him inside of me. I still don’t know, and I have nothing to compare it to either, but that doesn’t stop my imagination from running away with me, from feeling it as if it’s happening.
His fingers are exploring me, massaging me, touching me deeply and making me feel everything all at once. Even the fantasy of being with Tony makes up for never being touched by another man. There is just something so special about him to me. A quality that no one else has ever shown me or even come close to.
This time, he doesn’t get the call at the pivotal moment. This time, we carry on and he slips that gorgeous cock inside of me. My fingers pick up the pace as I feel each thrust. The buzzing of need combined with burning hot bliss trickles all the way through me, causing me to bite down hard on my bottom lip to stop me from screaming out. The whole world might have melted away the moment I spotted Tony again, but there’s still a part of me that’s aware there might be other people in this bathroom and the last thing they need is to hear me, like this.
Oh, Natasha, I feel him whisper into my ear as I stuff my fist between my teeth. You are mine.
This drives me towards the edge. I feel him saying it over and over again, telling me that I am his, always and forever. That nothing can get in our way.
The pleasure bursts and explodes in a shattering orgasm that screams through my body. I want to belong to Tony, I always have done. That’s why nothing has ever worked out for me after him. Why any of the two dates that I have been on in the last three years have come to nothing? Because they aren’t him. It has to be him.
As every fiber inside of me aches for the man who slipped through my fingers and I shudder violently, fully experiencing every damn inch of the intense phenomenal bliss, I make a snap decision. Tonight, is the night. There is a reason that I allowed Tara to drag me to this nightmare, a reason that he is here as well. We lost our first chance through no fault of our own, we were too damn young to do anything about it then, but this is life giving us another shot. Not many people get this, so we need to grab it with both hands and take it.
