A curious expression replaced Ty’s shocked one. “What’s the future Mrs. Callahan like?”

“A total shrew,” I grumbled.

Ty’s brows knitted together. “They fixed you up with some unfortunate-looking chick?”

“No, it’s nothing like that. She’s actually hot.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“She’s an uptight, choirgirl priss with a mixture of feminazi thrown in.”

“Damn. That’s bleak.”

“Yeah. It is. I’m going to have to start drinking heavily to get through the next nine months with her.”

“Surely she can’t be that bad.”

I shuddered. “Trust me, she is, but the feeling is mutual. She pretty much loathes me

as well.”

“You two have only spent an afternoon together—how can you already hate each other?”

“I don’t know, man. We’re just gifted that way.” I rolled my neck and shoulders, trying to relieve some of the tension the day’s events had caused. With the walls of the hotel room closing in on me, I knew I had to get out of there. “Listen, I gotta change and go work out.”

Ty cocked his brows at me. “That’s not exactly what I thought you were going to say.”

“Did you think I was going to ask you to assume a fake name and leave the country with me?”

With a grin, Ty said, “No. After you just said you were going to have to drink heavily for the next few months, I figured you wanted me to take you somewhere to get crazy ass lit.”

“While tempting, I’m stuck here for the weekend being tortured by getting to know my fake future wife. I don’t think I’d be very good at it if I were blitzed or hungover.”

“You’ve managed to seal the deal many times when blitzed.”

I snorted with disgust. “There will be no sealing the deal with Addison.”

“Why not? You said yourself she was hot.”

“Yeah, she’s hot—the kind of infuriating hot that gets under your skin like a bad rash.” The kind of hot that drives you mad because you know no matter how hard you try, you can’t have her.

“There are creams for that you know,” Ty teased.

“Har fucking har.” I shrugged. “Nope. It’s just not happening.” I refrained from adding that I was pretty sure Charles Manson had a better chance of getting Addison in bed than me.

Ty’s brown eyes widened. “Holy shit. Now I know what’s so wrong with her. You’ve finally found a woman you can’t charm the panties off.”

“Oh please. I could have Addison flat on her back in no time.”

“I bet you ten Franklins you couldn’t, and that’s what is freaking you out so much.”

Damn Ty and his ability to see right through my bullshit. I was totally wigged out about meeting Addison; she was a complete one-eighty from what I’d assumed she’d be like. Since I was a teenager, women had practically thrown themselves at me. I’d never met a woman who didn’t warm up to me, least of all a woman who seemed utterly repulsed by the very sight of me. She hadn’t just bruised my ego—she’d fucking shredded it.

I shook my head at Ty. “Look, the last thing Addison and I need in this fucked-up fake relationship is to add sex to the mix.”

“You can say that now when you’re only a few hours into celibacy. A few weeks down the road and you’d be willing to bang Addison even if she looked like Jabba the Hut.” Ty smirked at me. “But that won’t matter, will it? Addison’s probably made it abundantly clear that she isn’t letting the Bear anywhere near her cave.”

I fought the urge to punch his smug face. “You know what? Fuck you. I’m going to work out.”

Ty’s laughter echoed after me as I stomped into the bedroom and slammed the door. “I’ll go change and join you,” he called.

“Only if you’ll get off my dick about Addison,” I replied.

“Fine. I’ll let it go.”

“Then go change.”

“See ya in five.”

Although I could have benefited from pumping iron, I started straight for one of the treadmills. If I couldn’t literally run away, then I could at least do it figuratively. With some hardcore Jay Z in my ears, my feet started pounding out the miles.

I had just finished a 5K when the notes of “Sexy Back” began playing on my phone. Yeah, go ahead and consider me a douchebag because I have “Sexy Back” as one of my ringtones—the one for when it was a chick calling. I jerked my earbuds out and glanced down at the screen.

At my loud groan, Ty turned his head to peer curiously at me.

“Fuuuuck. It’s Evangelina.”

“Oh shit. What are you going to say?”

“I know what I want to say—that I’m going to hop on the next plane and be buried in her pussy as soon as possible.”

Ty tsked at me. “Sorry dude, you’re engaged now. No more pussy for you.”

His dooming declaration felt the same as if he had punched me in the gut; my free hand swept to my abdomen and I groaned. Someone might as well have put handcuffs on me because I truly felt imprisoned by the prospect of the next nine sexless months. What if my dick never recovered? You know, like when you stop working out and your body goes to hell? Can a cock shrivel up from lack of use?

“Answer the phone, B.”