“Kissed him? No.” I made a noise of frustration. “We never got that far. I spent the entire date talking about—” I broke off before I said something embarrassing.
“Talking about what, bookworm?” His dark gaze was back on me.
I shook my head, pressing my mouth closed.
He took another step toward me and I backed up, the backs of my knees hitting the bed. “Talking. About. What.”
I threw my hands up. “You. Talking about you. Oh my god. You’re so pushy.” I rolled my eyes, when really, my heart raced, my skin tingled, and nipples pinched hard. I had all this energy and nowhere for it to go.
I put my hands on his chest to push him back a step but he grabbed my wrists. A smug grin grew on his features. Paired with his dark gaze, the effect was hypnotic.
“Me?” He raised his eyebrows, cocking his head. His hands scorched my wrists. It was like he ran hotter than normal people. Maybe that was why he was never cold in the water.
I rolled my eyes again. “You came up in conversation because of the surf lessons.”
“Right. Because of the surf lessons.” His gaze stayed glued on me, still heated. “So you didn’t kiss him because it didn’t feel right?”
I gave him another tiny nod.
“Interesting.” His thumb brushed my wrist as if he didn’t realize he was doing it. It sent tingles up and down my arm, making it hard to breathe. That could have been from his proximity, too. Or how he smelled freaking incredible.
He exhaled through his nose, and a muscle in his jaw ticked. “Are you disappointed?” His chest rumbled against my hands as he spoke.
I chewed my lip. “No. Beck’s nice—” His hands clenched my wrists at the mention of his name. “—but he’s just a friend.” I swallowed and met his gaze. “I was looking forward to making out with someone tonight, but I don’t want to do it with the wrong person.”
Well, that sounded suggestive. Wyatt’s eyebrow ticked up, still watching me with that dark gaze, and a shiver rolled down my spine. His warm hands seared my wrists. My heart hammered in my chest. I inhaled a shaky breath but it caught in my throat when Wyatt pressed his fingers into my wrist.
“Your pulse,” he murmured.
I nodded again. Another flutter through my core, another clench around nothing.
He watched my face with heavy-lidded eyes. “It’s been a long time since you’ve kissed someone, bookworm.”
Another nod from me.
“I don’t want you to be out of practice.” His gaze dropped to my mouth and he cleared his throat. “You know, for when you meet the right person.”
“Right. I don’t want to be out of practice either.”
I swallowed again, watching the curve of Wyatt’s mouth, noticing the rise and fall of his chest against my hands. My hands tensed, my nails dug into him, and his breath caught.
“So we should practice.” I lifted a shoulder in a half-shrug. Casual, so casual. Like Wyatt.
He frowned like he was torn. He glanced from me to the window, then back to me, then to the bed behind me. My core clenched hard again and I almost whimpered. My underwear was wet. That never happened, and definitely not from standing beside a guy for a few minutes.
I watched his mouth again. I wanted a taste of him. Just one. That would be enough.
You know what? Screw this.
I raised up on my tip toes and kissed Wyatt.
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AUTHOR’S NOTE
Thank you for reading The Fake Out! If you enjoyed, I’d love if you could write me a review. Reviews help readers find books they love.
I feel a little sad letting these two go. Rory and Hazel have probably been my favorite characters to date. There’s a quote on The Office that I love: “I wish there was a way to know you’re in the good old days before you’ve actually left them.” I’m already excited to write Hayden and Darcy’s book, but Rory and Hazel will forever own a piece of my heart.
The inspiration behind Hazel’s dream of a body-positive fitness studio is one of my best friends, Helen Camisa, the owner of Fat and Happy Yoga. Helen’s one of those people you immediately fall in love with, because she’s hilarious, wise, and compassionate. When Hazel says things like “you deserve to feel good in your body” and “it’s okay to enjoy food,” that’s Helen telling me every body is beautiful, and fuck what our media tells us. Helen, I’m so fucking lucky to know you. This book is a love letter to you and the work you do.
My author friends, Grace Reilly, Brittany Kelley, Olivia Hayle, and Lily Gold, and Maggie North. Thank you for helping to shape this story into the best it can be and for providing guidance and laughs in this incredible career path.
My real life friends (lol), Sarah, Alanna, Anthea, Bryan: thank you for holding my hand, championing me, and letting me be my weird self.
Many thanks to my hilarious beta readers, Maggie, Esther, Wren, Jess, Marcie, Brett, Callan, and Nicole, who cracked me up with their comments and made this story so much better.
Thank you to Becca Hensley Mysoor for your wise and enthusiastic guidance on Rory and Hazel, and for the genius idea of the wildly overpriced crystal dragon.
And for my husband, the most gentle, kind, patient human I’ve ever met who makes me laugh harder than anyone. My books are filled with love because I write them thinking about you.
And lastly, my beloved readers! Thank you for reading my books, for telling your friends and your sisters and your moms, for posting about them on social media, for your lovely emails and DMs, and for letting me live out my dreams!
Until next time,
Steph
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Stephanie Archer writes spicy, laugh-out-loud romance. She believes in the power of best friends, stubborn women, a fresh haircut, and love. She lives in Vancouver with a man and a dog.