“We just walked around the town,” Hallie said, thinking about the way Jack had been nervous about their facade and their sleeping situation. The way he’d referred to their friendship as something to protect. “What about you guys?”
Chuck and Jamie launched into a story about getting stuck hiking with family, but Hallie couldn’t focus. Her skin was prickly with awareness of Jack’s proximity, of zippers and calves and soapy showers.
What was wrong with her?
The minute they finished their story, Hallie stood and said, “I’m getting a drink.”
She walked over to the bar, regretting that decision instantly because she’d been able to avoid relatives all day by sneaking away with Jack, but now she had no escape. By the time she finally had a vodka cranberry in her hand, she’d spoken to a handful of cousins and three uncles.
And none of that had cleared Jack out of her head.
The meal was finally served, but she wasn’t even hungry. She was too . . . antsy to eat. She mindlessly participated in dinner conversation, and she was beyond grateful that Jack had swapped their seats, because Chuck and Jamie were keeping him entertained, so Hallie was able to silently spiral in peace.
I was this close to begging her to go back to the room with me.
“Hal.”
“Huh?”
Jack was looking at her questioningly. His blue eyes searched her face for something and apparently didn’t find it, because he said, “Come outside with me for a sec?”
Her heart started pounding in her chest and she just nodded.
“We’ll be right back,” he said to the table as he linked his fingers tightly between hers and led her out of the room and into the hallway. Her mind was spinning, but she couldn’t think of anything specific, which was bizarre. She just felt . . . nervous . . . ?
He didn’t take her outside, didn’t stop until he reached an unlabeled closet. He pulled open the door, led her inside, then closed the door behind them. The closet smelled like a mix of bleach and clean laundry, and it was dark except for the tiny bit of light coming through the door vents.
She could barely see his face.
“What are you doing?” she said as he turned so her back was against the door.
“Why are you freaking out, Hal?” he said, his voice deep and a little husky in her ear.
She wanted to deny it, but this was Jack. He knew her too well. Her breathing felt shallow as she said, “I don’t actually know.”
She could smell whiskey when he spoke. “Does it have to do with what I said about begging you to go back to the hotel room?”
She swallowed. “I mean—”
“I knew our games were a bad idea.” She could feel the closeness of his body, even though they weren’t touching, and he said, “I’m not losing you over sex. For the rest of the weekend, I think we should fake date without any of the PDA bullshit.”
Disappointment surged through her; his suggestion was kind of the opposite of what she’d been thinking. She said, “Well, wait a minute—that’s a little rash, don’t you think?”
He chuckled darkly in her ear. “Then what do you suggest?”
“Um,” she said, not wanting to give up the intimacy they’d shared since arriving in Colorado, “maybe we just set a hard and fast rule about sex.”
“That it has to be hard and fast?” he growled, and she felt his teeth on her earlobe.
“You know what I mean, perv,” she said in a near-whisper.
“I do.” He nuzzled his nose against her neck, his breath streaking over her skin. “We solemnly swear not to have sex this weekend, no matter how many times you bite me.”
“Exactly.” She laughed. “And no matter how nice your calves are.”
He lifted his head. “My calves?”
“I’m so distracted by them, you don’t even know,” she confessed.
He started laughing, and the sound filled the darkness.
“We should probably go back now,” Hallie said, not wanting to but knowing her mother and sister wouldn’t put up with her absence for long. “I’m sure someone will be giving a toast soon.”
“Wait.” His phone lit up the darkness, and she heard his message send before her phone buzzed.
She pulled it out of her pocket.
Jack: Since we’ve doubled down on this weekend being a one-off, can I kiss you?
She stared at the text for a long moment, wondering how to respond, and then she turned off her phone and slid it back into her pocket. She said, “We’ve kissed multiple times since you picked me up this morning. You’re asking permission now?”
The hard line of his jaw was caught in the light of his phone. “I’m not asking as your fake boyfriend.”
Hallie’s heartbeat picked up again. She felt a chill on the skin of her neck as she said, “So . . . you want to kiss me?”
His phone’s display timed out and turned off, and she heard a roaring in her ears as she waited for his answer.
“Just once,” he said, his voice gravelly. “Jack and Hallie for real, before things go back to normal.”
She seriously thought she might faint. She struggled for words and all she came up with was, “My hands are shaking.”
She felt his hands on the sides of her face, and she could hear her own trembly breathing. His mouth came down on hers, but instead of the hot, arrogant kisses she’d become accustomed to since the airport, this was . . . different.
It was an intimate, sexual kiss, the kind of kiss that was usually shared in a darkened bedroom, with one body stretched out on top of the other. Wide-open mouths, slanting for the perfect connection, the warmth of his breath on her lips, the feel of his fingertips on her skin.
His tongue tangled with hers and teased, his teeth nipping at her lower lip, and she felt herself rearing up, desperate to meet him kiss for kiss, and to do whatever it took to keep him from ever stopping.
She reached out and grabbed the lapels of his suit jacket, pulling herself closer to him, pressing her body against his. He grunted, and she felt his hands squeeze her waist, slide down to her ass, and it was her turn to let out a noise when she felt his hardness grind against her.
“Don’t you dare stop,” she breathed into his mouth, and she let her head fall back as his lips moved down to her throat.
“I have to, Hal,” he panted into her neck, sucking her skin as he pressed his body into hers. “Before we mess up everything.”
“Yeah,” she said, agreeing while also moving her hands so she could feel his thick hair between her fingers. “Good idea.”
“So . . . are we stopping?” He lifted his mouth, but she could still feel his breath on her throat when he spoke, and he sounded like he’d do whatever she said.
“Yes,” she said, letting go of his hair and saying on an exhale, “I guess so.”
“Thank God,” he replied, his voice a sleepy drawl. “Because I have a roll on my plate that I haven’t gotten to yet.”
“The rolls are trash,” she said, her hands still shaking as she fumbled to get herself together in the dark.
“Why do you have to ruin everything for me?” he asked, his voice teasing in the quiet darkness.
She touched her hair and said, “How are we going to exit the closet without looking like a couple of horndogs?”