Our Totally, Ridiculous, Made-Up Christmas Relationship by Brittainy C. Cherry Read Free Book Online

item. A real item—not this made-up relationship thing.
    I don’t even know why I agreed to this. I guess I want an opportunity to shove it in my dad’s face. To say I booked a job, to say I’m on the right path. For me not giving a damn what he thinks of me, I hate how I try so damn hard to prove him wrong.
    Hitting the volume up, I hear Jules still whining. Great. Back into my acting role… “Look, Jules. I don’t think you give yourself enough credit. You deserve better than these guys. You need to set rules for yourself.”
    I can already tell that she hops into bed with any guy who looks at her for more than a minute while already planning the wedding. For someone who’s in her twenties, she sure acts like a teenager. But truth be told, most chicks do. I blame Disney and their fake Prince Charmings.
    If I’ve learned anything from watching movies with Hailey, it’s pretty clear Prince Charming is gay. He’s definitely more interested in Cinderella’s high heels than he is in sleeping with her. And if he isn’t gay, all of his sweet talk is just to get her out of that dress and into his bed. The only dude I have any respect for is the guy who tried to get Belle to marry him by threatening to send her dad to the psych ward. At least he was up front with what he was after. He pretty much said, 'Listen, I’m hot as hell. You’re hot as hell. I have great hair. Your hair is all right. Let’s shack up, make some babies, and then call it a day.’
    “You think so? You think I need rules?” Her voice pulls me out of my thoughts and back into the conversation—a conversation I’m sure is pointless. Most girls never listen to advice, even when they ask for it.
    “I know so.”
    “Like what kind of rules?” Her voice is timid, cute even, because the idea of setting guidelines for dating makes her so nervous.
    “For example, maybe you shouldn’t sleep with the guy just because he calls you beautiful. Or because he winks at you. Or because he buys you a drink.”
    There’s a short gasp heard through the phone line. “How did you know about the winking?”
    “Sweetheart, we all know about the winking. And it’s clear that you’re beautiful, but that doesn’t mean you’re cheap.”
    Another short gasp. “You think I’m beautiful?”
    “Don’t do that,” I warn, actually lifting the phone to my ear. “Don’t get that excited tone in your voice.”
    “There’s no excitement in my tone.”
    “Jules, you’re beautiful, you’re intelligent, and you’re the woman of my dreams. I want to have mind-blowing, intimate sex with you,” I whisper. Then I snicker when her car swerves, knowing my words struck a nerve and threw her off kilter.
    I can almost feel the warmth in her blushing cheeks and see her smile through the receiver. I wasn’t lying—she is beautiful. She has these kind-hearted blue eyes that smile all on their own, without instruction. Her wild, crazy blond curls bounce when she walks, and gently sway when she’s still. Her hair actually reminds me of the sun, the way the room lights up when those curls walk in. Her cheeks are high, her ass looks great in a pair of jeans, and she doesn’t overdo the makeup. Not to mention, she has a handful up top that any man would be lucky to hold.
    When it comes to physical traits, on a scale of one to ten, Jules Stone is a solid fifty. It’s no surprise that guys are instantly attracted to her in the first place—she’s hot as hell. I’m disappointed that she’s so sensitive and a little crazy, too. If she weren’t, I’m pretty sure more guys might have been interested in taking her out, instead of just wanting to bang her.
    “What else should I know?” She wonders out loud, but I’m not quite sold on the fact that she’s speaking to me. “What would make a guy want to stay with me?”
    I sigh, a bit annoyed with how needy she sounds. “Why do you need a guy in the first place?”
    “A girl spends her whole life wanting to be in