Lucky This Isn't Real: MacBride Brothers Series St. Patrick's Day Fake Fiance Romance by Jamie Knight (digital e reader .TXT) 📕

beg like that. All signs of fronting were gone completely. He looked so pathetic that I relented, even though I had no feelings for him left anymore— other than pity, I supposed— and I had recently realized that perhaps I had never really had any to begin with.

“Okay, fine,” I said, stepping out of the way, “but no funny business. Touch me, and my boyfriend will throw you out a window.”

“I thought he was your fiancé.”

Oops.

“Semantics. What do you want?”

“I just needed to come tell you that it was a huge mistake. Cheating on you with Raquel was stupid and selfish.”

I huffed out a laugh.

“No shit, Sherlock.”

“No, I mean it. We really aren’t working out at all. She changed completely after we got engaged. I was hoping you might take me back. I’ve never been happier than when I was with you.”

His face crumbled, and a sob flew from his lips.

He really was pathetic.

“Not a chance, though I’m quite glad to hear that you’re miserable,” I said.

Kenny went to the fridge, grabbed a bottle of beer, and opened it without asking. I was about to bring up this fact when he explained himself.

“Sorry, but I need this after the day I’ve had.” He took a long pull from the bottle and then lowered it. “This is really good, actually.”

“It’s Darcy’s,” I said coldly.

“I thought his name was Gavin.”

“It is. Darcy is my roommate; she’s a girl.”

“Oh, swinging both ways, hey?”

I crossed my arms.

“That’s uncalled for.”

He shook his head.

“Shit, sorry, just a joke. Anyway, I found out that Raquel was cheating on me with the new head trainer at her gym,” he said.

I tried hard not to laugh.

“Karma’s a bitch, haven’t you heard? That doesn’t surprise me, and it shouldn’t surprise you, either. I don’t want you here. You can’t think you can come to my place and get a beer whenever you feel like it. I’m sick of guys using me,” I blurted out in frustration.

“What is that supposed to mean?” he asked.

When I didn’t answer, he pressed forward.

“Why did you say ‘guys’? Who else has used you? Gavin?” He smirked. “Is there trouble in Irish paradise?”

“No, there’s not,” I told him quickly, wanting to kick myself for being so rash and for having such a big mouth. “You. You used me, and I’m sick of it.”

“Look, I already said I was sorry,” he said, shrugging. “Can’t we just forget about this?”

I grunted and rolled my eyes, not even caring if he saw how agitated he was making me.

How many times did I have to go over this with him?

Fate was cruel to have brought him back into my life on the same day that I had just decided Gavin needed to be out of it. I didn’t want Kenny near me, and I sure as hell didn’t need this complication when I was already feeling so down about Gavin.

“No, we can’t,” I told him. “Or at least I can’t. Now get out of my place and my life.”

 

Chapter Fourteen – Gavin

Snagging this role was far from a sure thing, but I was confident. The casting director was the same one who had put me on the series, so I knew she liked what I could do and had a firm grip on the obvious. Which is more than could be said for most of the other casting directors that I had met.

The only issue was the subject matter. The character was supposed to be struggling with drug addiction. That was something I should have known well enough about because of my history with my dad, but it wasn’t really something I liked to think about, let alone mine for dramatic effect.

Still, though, at the end of the audition, I was fairly sure that I’d done well. At least well enough to be in the running. It was a beefy part in a movie and would give me something to do when shooting wrapped on the sitcom's first season.

“Come with me,” the director said, in a tone impossible to read.

She took me out into the hall, which meant that what she wanted to talk to me about was either really good or really bad. Either way, at least it should be over soon.

“I think we both know you can do better than that,” she said.

“I—”

She held up her hand.

“You don’t know how close I am to giving you this role, but I can’t unless you can nail that monologue. Right now, you sound like you’re doing a commercial for a sedative.”

I shoved a hand through my hair.

“I guess I just wasn’t able to connect as well as I thought I was…”

“Go home and think about it for a few days,” she instructed me. “You and I both know that you won’t be convincing at the role without that ability to connect. See if you can get over whatever block you have, bring some emotion to it, and then come back and try again. I can hold off on making a decision for a week or so.”

I nodded.

“I appreciate your confidence in me. I know I’m right for this role.”

I put on my jacket and headed for the exit. Maybe Maggie was right, and I did need to work through my past. Perhaps therapy could help.

I hadn’t done myself many favors, keeping all my feelings stuffed inside. There had been a time in my late teens and early twenties when I drank too much, but I kept that under control these days. I could take a beer or two without drinking to excess.

If I was honest, I feared I might wind up going down the same path my dad had. I wasn’t doing smack, of