The billionaire's sweet editor
Chapter 40: Lucas: Fake

Chapter 40: Lucas: Fake

I OPEN my eyes, a blurry vision clouding them the moment I do.

Mmmm. There’s something heavy pressing down on my arm.

Flipping over, my face lands in a pile of black curly hair that smells like my favorite scent. Roses. I inhale, smiling at myself when she draws in a large breath and lets it out in one low snore.

Who knew I’d ever find snores cute?

Raising Iris’ head slowly, I withdraw my arm from below her head, making sure not to wake her up. A cramp immediately attacks like it has been blocked all this while. I wince, shaking my hand vigorously and making my way to the bathroom to brush my teeth before Iris wakes.

We ended up sleeping in the same room because of Paul. When I told him to bring Iris’ bags upstairs, I forgot to tell him where to take them. I thought he knew it was supposed to be the guest room, but when I walked upstairs with Iris and left her in her room, I was shocked when she asked me where her clothes were.

Then I found them sitting at the foot of my bed. Long story short, she came to my room and laid on my bed, told me we’ve done much more than this and that I should be the sweet guy and offer her comfort for what happened at Jerald’s.

I fell for it, and, well, this is the result of that—me brushing my teeth hurriedly so I can watch her sleep some more before work. And before you judge me, no, I’m not a pervert.

I’m just in love and it’s hard not to stare when the woman you love is always around you.

I’m lucky enough to witness her scratch her cheek and pout in her sleep before she flips herself around, tugging the duvet and throwing it on the ground. It leaves her open and she wraps her arms around herself, rolling over and clasping her legs in fetal position.

Last night was a roller coaster that ended so well, the bad faded in the background. A little. Now that I see Iris sleeping in my bed, and her bags in my room, it’s confirmation that last night’s fight was real. Everything really happened.

Jerald really said all that hateful stuff to Iris and she decided to move in with me. We might have escaped him yesterday, but sooner or later, the two of them have to talk. Just not now whilst they’re still reeling from last night’s events.

Covering her and tucking the duvet around her, I open the door to my walk-in closet and select a navy blue custom suit made by our design team. I slip into it, taking a matching tie and selecting the appropriate jewelry to pair with it—cufflinks and all that.

By the time I’m done and back inside the room, the bed is empty and I can hear Iris humming in the bathroom. She sounds drunk.

Laughing to myself, I spray some cologne all over me, the whole room filling with the refreshing ocean scent. I’ve always wondered how scientists can make a perfume smell so much like a fresh breeze of splashed water.

I always end up thinking about a tropical island with clear blue water and fresh fruits lining the market as healthy people dressed in hot summer walk about whilst I sip some fresh cold juice.

Damnit. Now I want to go to Hawaii.

"Mmmm, I love your scent. It makes me think of the ocean and fruits," Iris hums, drawing in a breath loudly so I can hear her.

She doesn’t look like she was bathing, but her face looks fresh. "Morning Lucas," she grins.

I grin back. "Morning Iris."

"Can you show me to my room? I need to take a bath now if I’m going to catch the Uber."

I raise my brows. "Why would you need an Uber?"

"Umm, to go to work?"

"I can drive you," I mumble shrugging.

"Is that okay? You’re not worried people will start suspecting we moved in together?"

"And what of it? You’re my girlfriend."

No sooner do the words leave my mouth than I realize what I just said. Iris immediately averts my gaze. I can’t tell if she’s annoyed by my words or if she’s cursing at me under her breath. Either way, I don’t wait for her to tell me.

"At least that’s what they know. So I think it’ll be fine if we both arrive at the same time," I quickly correct myself.

"Yeah, for a moment there I forgot we’re fake dating."

Fake.

A word I didn’t know I’d hate to hear this much. Iris finally raises her head and looks at me, it’s a pity she had to do it just when my jaw is clenched for no reason.

"So...will you show me to my room?"

Nodding, I lead the way to her room, which is right next to mine. Aside from the bed, everything else looks exactly like my room. I made sure it did because Jerald used to sleep in this room whenever he visited, and I somehow thought making it look like my room would make him more comfortable.

It did make him comfortable, I have oral proof because he told me so himself, and that’s why I’m giving this room to Iris. I open the door and we step inside, Iris immediately gasping once her eyes lock onto the window.

"It’s beautiful," she clasps her chest, running towards the window and plastering her face on there like a five-year-old. "It looks like your room, but with richer views. Look at those flowers," she points at the deck right outside her room filled with cosmos flowers and alyssums planted by Jerald and tended to by Tim.

It’s a botanical paradise out there and paired with the two-seater swinging garden chair, I’m sure she’ll be delighted reading and writing for the coming two weeks ahead of us.

"There’s a swinging chair outside if you want to relax amidst the flowers whilst writing or reading."

"Really?" Her eyes grow wide, twinkling with joy when I nod and head over to the floor-to-ceiling French doors. I open them for her and she immediately rushed over to the chair, sitting on it and making it swing a little.

"Wow, this is so comfy."

"Wait until the cushions are added," I boast, chest up when she giggles at me.

"Jerald would have loved this place," Iris suddenly blurts out, pausing when she comes to her senses. The twinkle and giggles immediately die as she adjusts herself on the swing, turning to look at me with a droopy expression.

"Do you think I crossed the line last night?"

Walking till I’m in front of her, I sit next to her, grabbing her shoulder and pulling her to me. "We all crossed lines yesterday."

"What did you do?" Iris asks in a low voice.

"I punched the most loyal friend I’ve ever had because he got angry at me for betraying him. If you ask me, you’re probably better than me."

"Nah, we’re both fucked. He told me not to date you and I promised him I wasn’t."

"He warned us too, but we still broke his promise."

Iris pushes her palm on my chest, raising her head so she can face me. "Why does he hate the idea of us dating with his friends that much anyway?" She fumes. "I mean, what’s so wrong about falling in love with your brother’s friend? Shouldn’t he be happy his sister is dating a guy whom he knows inside out?"

"That’s exactly why he doesn’t want you guys dating us," I reply. "He knows us inside out, all our good and bad qualities, everything. Phineas is a fucking manwhore, and I’m a workaholic who’s too obsessed with the magazine to care about someone else. He knows you know."

"But still..." she trails off, clicking her tongue when she realizes it’s the truth.

"He wants what’s best for you guys, he just doesn’t know how to show it."

"The fuck you mean he doesn’t know how to show it? He knows how to love, I’ve seen him with Kayla."

"That’s different."

"How is that different? It’s still love isn’t it?"

Okay, I don’t know if she’s just dense or if she’s pretending to be.

It’s different Iris. He loves Kayla as a woman and you guys as his sisters.

"I’m not dumb, I know that. What I mean to say is that he knows how to show care gently. He’s just pissed because he found out Phineas was the reason Mary got into a depressing heartbreak in college."

Oh,that.

"He is, and that’s enough reason for him to kiss Phin’s ass because he cares for his sister. What he needs to learn now is self-control because when he’s angry he can’t seem to separate the line between friend or enemy. Everyone in his way gets blasted."

Iris stares at me for a moment without saying anything else, just examining my face like it has the answers she’s looking for. Abruptly standing she looks down at me.

"Too bad I’m not a therapist. I won’t be talking to him until I’m ready to face him or we’ll fight again."

"Yeah, that’s probably a good idea," I reply, standing when she begins walking back inside.

"Then it’s sorted, I’m staying away until further notice. In the meantime, you’ll be my protectors until this is over." She chuckles to herself, opening a suitcase and taking out her bathroom supplies. "I can’t believe we got into a fight over a fake relationship."

Slapping my bicep, she walks past me, leaving me standing in the middle of the room, jaw clasped together.

Fake. I hate the word so much I could die.

★★★★★