Faking with Benefits

by Lily Gold

“Hey, gorgeous,” he says cheerfully, leaning over the table. I jump when he brushes his lips across my cheek, my lungs filling with his warm, honey-and-whiskey smell.

Zack Harding (player nickname: Zack Hard-On) is a thirty-year-old ex-rugby player — but he looks more like a Viking. Massive arms, blonde hair usually pulled back into a man-bun, scruffy beard, and a barrel-chest the size of a fridge.

“I’m the same guy, yeah,” Zack says. “I just got really hot and buff all of a sudden. I would never abandon my gorgeous, stunning, slightly scary date.”

my girl

Luke is turning forty this year, and he’s the quintessential silver fox. Greying and handsome in a hot professor kind of way. He’s dressed in his usual chinos, thick-rimmed glasses, and a soft-looking navy sweater.

The last occupant of apartment 6B, Joshua Tran, is standing in the doorway of his bedroom, looking at me through narrowed eyes. I glare right back at him, even though tilting my head to look him in the eye hurts my neck. The guy is tall. At about six-five, he’s taller than Zack, with thick black hair, sharp bone structure, and cool, distant eyes. He’s the quieter one of the group — unlike Zack, he doesn’t burst into rooms and loudly announce his presence; he sneaks in like a black panther and glares around at everyone with judgy eyes.

wiggling my feet at him. “Don’t wanna move. You take them off.” He finds the zip and tugs it down, freeing my foot. His thumb presses into my arch, and I practically melt into the couch. His lip quirks up. He takes off my other boot and lines them both up neatly by the sofa.

Layla’s a knockout. Tall and leggy, with high cheekbones and pale green eyes, and this sharp, shoulder-length hair that she bleaches white-blonde. It’s really hot.

I’ve never seen her this tipsy before. She’s usually so uptight. “I love her,” I say. “She’s so cute. Oh my God.”

Josh has been head-over-heels for Layla ever since they met, but he won’t admit it. It’s obvious, though. When she’s happy about something, he’s wandering around the flat, humming under his breath. When she’s stressed, he gets all moody. He’s filled our kitchen cupboard with all of her favourite snacks, and lights up whenever she texts him. Seeing her cry probably killed him.

“A Rolex?” I tease as he tugs the zip up to my chin. “Ooh. A rich man. Maybe I should go flirt with him instead.” He stiffens, his hand still on my throat. “Don’t. I’ll end the night in a jail cell.”

I should just focus on my work. Maybe one day, I’ll be rich enough to buy a husband.

We live in a society that idealises hyper-confident extroverts, but really, they’re no better than people who are awkward or quiet or introverted. They just have a different set of skills. You don’t have to pretend you’re anything you’re not.”

“What do you think? Will you lose your mind if you kiss me?”

Grinning, I trail my mouth down his throat, pressing a kiss to his Adam’s apple. His whole body flinches. I pause, then kiss his neck again. He shudders in a breath. “Layla—” he groans, tensing against me. “Shit.”

Ideally, I would’ve taken Layla to an actual restaurant, but when I asked her, she said she didn’t want to go out. So I did my best to set up a dinner date in our flat. The dining room table we never use has been covered in a white cloth. I’ve lit tapered candles and put some classical music on the record player. There’s salad in the fridge and a dish of homemade lasagne in the oven. The bouquet of roses I picked out this morning is sitting on the breakfast bar.

I thought I was fully prepared, but now Layla is standing in front of us, I’m ridiculously nervous. She looks gorgeous, dressed in a short little red coat with matching red lipstick.

“Okay. Give me them back.” She frowns. “But they’re mine!” “Nope. They were a test. You failed. Hand them over.” Begrudgingly, she picks the flowers back up, and I take them back. “We’re going to try this again, and you’re going to act like a regular human person, okay?” “You’re giving out strong alien vibes,”

JOSH: Jesus. LUKE: Layla! Put your shirt back on. ZACK: This is the best day of my effing life. LAYLA: Thanks. Review, please. ZACK: Um. Yeah. Your tits look huge. Five stars. Would recommend. LAYLA: The pants match. ZACK: Please tell me you’re wearing them. LAYLA: Yes, actually, let me just— JOSH: (speaking quickly) Use the code THREESINGLEGUYS for twenty percent off. Terms and conditions apply. The full collection launches August 1st. Layla, for the love of God, please put your shirt back on before Zack’s drool breaks the equipment.

“You’re embarrassed because you’ve been working too hard to clean?” I say incredulously. “Christ, Layla. You’re my friend. I don’t care about the mess, I care about you.”

“You’re pretty cute.” My heart glows in my chest. I kick his ankle under the sheets. “I’m not cute. I’m terrifying.” “Mmhm.” He wraps his arms tighter around me and pulls me flush against him, so we’re spooning. I wriggle against him angrily. “I make men jump from windows and flee from restaurants to get away from me.”

Josh and Layla are both in bed. Josh is sitting propped up against the headboard, staring down at Layla sleeping on his chest like she’s the centre of his damn universe.

Then Luke makes a strangled noise and reaches for me. My eyes fly open as he wraps a hand around my throat and tugs my mouth to his.

“Oh, you found Josh’s Mute button,” Zack says casually, uncapping the bottle. “That’s nice.”

I run my fingers through his thick hair. “I want you. I want to see you happy, and proud, and sad, and tired. I want your low moments, as well as your high ones. I want all of you. I want as much of you as you’ll give me.”

“You always take care of me.” “Yes,” Luke says steadily. “And I will as long as you’ll let me. Drink, Layla.”

I am falling for Layla. How could I not? She’s lovely. She’s sharp, and smart, and driven — but underneath that hard shell, she’s also sensitive and thoughtful and kind. I’m falling for her.

She stares at me for a few seconds, breathing hard. “It’s not just Zack,” she says tightly. “You wanted me to be vulnerable with my feelings. So, here you go. It’s not just Zack. I’m falling for all three of you. I love you, Luke.”

My eyebrows go up. “You bought a metal detector?” He snorts. “I walked up and down the lawns with a metal detector like a treasure-seeking lunatic, yeah. The staff thought I was mental, but I promised to shout out the hotel on Twitter, and they let me do whatever I wanted.”

“I think I’m in love with Layla,” Zack tells him flatly, cutting his tirade short.

Josh takes a deep breath. “Yes. I’ve loved Layla for a long time now. Well before she first joined us on this show. But I never told her. We’d been friends for years. I couldn’t stand the thought of losing her.”

“I think I fell in love with her the first time she opened up to us about her past,” Zack says. “She had, like, tears in her eyes, and I remember thinking… ‘I’ll do anything to not see her cry again’.” He’s silent for a moment. “Then I made her cry even worse. God, what a prick. What about you, Lukey?”

“It was a gradual thing, I think,” Luke says. “I didn’t realise until I invited her to my ex-wife’s wedding.”

“Layla. Please come home,” Josh says, his voice soft as he talks directly into the mic. “Please.”

“So, yeah. Layla. I do love you. I adore you. It’s taken so goddamn long, but I’m finally ready to love someone. For the love of God, please forgive me.”

“I love you,” I tell him. My heart is pounding so hard it hurts. “I love you. Love you.”

“But I couldn’t stop myself from falling in love with you, even if I tried. And I’m a coward for not admitting it to myself. Layla, you are so much braver than all three of us.”

“I’d marry you right now if I could,” he says evenly, and my heart flips.

“I know you’re right for me, Layla. I’ll spend the rest of my life proving it to you, if that’s what you need.”

“I love you,” he says into my hair, and I nod.

“I love you too. Do this to me again, and I’ll throw you on the street so fast you’ll find gravel up your asscrack.”

She watches, curling her fingers into mine. “I can’t promise I won’t hurt you,” I say levelly. “I’m sure I will. But I promise that when I do, it will never, ever be on purpose. And I’ll find some way to fix it. I will.”

“I love you,” she breathes, and my heart expands in my chest. I force myself to pull away. She looks down at me, her green eyes soft and dark.

I curl my thumb under her cheek. “I love you too,” I say quietly. “I missed you so much, L.”

“You’re so scary,” Zack says into my ear. “Where’s the bathroom? I need to jump out the window to get away from you.” “Most of my dates feel a similar urge. Breathe deep, it’ll pass.”

We get married on a flower-filled rooftop in central London, on the day of my thirtieth birthday.