Fake dating my bestie's dad for Valentine

Rune’s POV: “A tall glass of orange juice please.” I sat down on the barstool, slamming my purse on the table with a loud thud. “With a straw. Lots of ice. Two mint leaves.” The bartender, a cute guy around my age, turned to me. He had a bottle of whiskey in his hand which he poured some to a customer seated beside me. “Just the juice?” He asked as he set the bottle in front of me, as if waiting for me to change my mind. “Yes.” I said, my voice tight, coiled with anger. My fingers drummed into the surface of the table. I could already taste the juice at the back of my throat. “No alcohol, please.” “A-alright. Coming up.” A deep, riveting chuckle reached my ears. “Orange juice? What do you think this is, a convenience store?” The voice that spoke was deep and rich, the kind that made shivers skittle down my spine. It made my anger spike. As if fuel had been poured into it. I scoffed and rolled my eyes. “No, it’s a fucking bar. I saw the sign outside. Who are you to

Rune’s POV the rest of the night, I had no idea where I was. all I knew was the pleasure. mind numbing pleasure. I lost count of how many times I'd been brought to the brink and then pushed off a cliff by that mine. everything. about him was amazing. his voice in my ear, his hands over my body, the way he seemed to know every inch of my body more than myself. I didn't want the night to end. I woke up to an unfamiliar ceiling, my body buzzing and a tingling sensation between my legs. I felt utterly and deeply satisfied. Like I just had the best sleep of my life. Sitting up in bed, I quickly looked around and noticed that I was in a luxury suite. I don’t remember getting here though. Slowly, the memories from last night began to piece themselves together. Did I dream it all up? No...felt too real to be dream. Anslem. The bar. The man. I gasped and shot out of bed. The man! The one who had my body singing for him like a bitch in heat! My cheeks flooded and I felt mortif

Rune I spent the cab ride back to my apartment lost in my thoughts. Mainly thoughts of that sexy god, but also thoughts of stepping into my apartment and seeing Anslem and Chris still there. Fucking on the floor. Instant mood killer. I ignored the curious looks from my neighbors as I made my way up the stairs and into my apartment. My next door neighbor, Sharon, stopped me as I was about to walk through my door. “Merry Christmas, Rune,” she said with a brilliant smile. She was a middle aged school teacher with three absolutely mischievous kids. I could hear their screams overshadowed by the cheerful Christmas music. “Merry Christmas too,” I replied with a tired smile. A sweet smell wafted into my nostrils. Following it, I saw the box of fresh cookies in her hand. My stomach growled, reminding me that I hadn’t eaten anything since yesterday's half sandwich for lunch. She noticed my gaze and handed the box over to me. “Here. I made too much. I remembered you liked sweets.

Rune’s POV I screamed into a pillow till my voice gave out. Then I turned the pillow to the other side and screamed into it as well. “Rune, is everything okay?” Marcella asked, touching my shoulder. I whipped my head up and turned to her. “Ella!” I wailed with tears practically in my eyes. “I’m just so happy to be in your mansion and not worry about food for the next two weeks!” Marcella rolled her beautiful eyes and smiled. “You’re so dramatic. Gosh. It’s not even a proper vacation.” I wiped my fake tears and sat up in bed. “I mean it! I’m so grateful!” I’m lying. I mean, I am grateful to her, and the free food and all of that. But that is not the reason I’m about to lose my mind. The reason is downstairs. Her father. I wish I could tell her about my current dilemma. But how? How do I bare my heart to her, cry and sob into her arms, tell her that I had a one night stand with her father of all people?! I mean, it wasn’t technically a one night stand. We didn’t

RUNE “Anslem is at home?” I asked, my voice brittle. Lorenzo huffed. I could smell the smoke on his breathing even though we were miles apart. “Come home. Now. Book the next flight and get back to New York.” The authority in his voice was unquestionable. Like he had put the decade of experience between us into it. A whine of displeasure bubbled in my throat. “I can’t do that! It’s like eight hours to get there! And I told you, I have something doing. I’m staying with Marbella and—" “If I don’t see you here in the next 48 hours, I will come down to LA and haul your disobedient behind back home. Don’t test me, Rune.” At this point, I was getting hysterical. “You can’t be serious! That will blow off all my plans!” “Maybe you should have thought about that before you pulled this foolish stunt. I’ve covered for you for years. You’re an adult now. You can’t keep running from all your problems.” I wanted to sob. He always knew where to poke at to make excruciating pain shoot t