She coughed and the drink she’d had in her mouth flew everywhere.
“Good grief. Don’t take everything I say so seriously. And dude, it hurts a little that you looked so terrified.” I gave her a wad of napkins from the dispenser. “Here, let’s clean this up.” Before I realized what I was doing, I inadvertently patted her chest, my hand lingering on the curve of her breast.
She inhaled sharply at the contact, and I immediately pulled back. The best quarterback in the country, and I couldn’t even hand a girl a few napkins without fumbling all over myself.
What was wrong with me?
“I have a proposition for you,” I said, clearing my throat. “There’s obviously some heat between us.”
Her eyebrow quirked. “Yeah?”
“What if we had sex—without getting involved, of course?”
Her mouth opened.
I held a hand up. “I mean, it would be a shame to spend all this time together and not enjoy each other . . .” my voice stopped, listening to how the words came out.
It had sounded better in my head on the drive over here.
“I guarantee we’d detonate like a bomb if you’d give us a shot,” I added, my voice husky.
“Bombs have been known to implode—and I’d be the one getting hurt. In fact, you’ve already warned me. Remember? You don’t do relationships anymore, and I don’t do random sex.”
“Someday I want something serious again—just not while I’m in college, ya know?”
“I get it.” Her voice was soft. “It’s all about the timing.”
A few ticks of silence went by.
I was deeply disappointed in her answer—yet part of me was glad she’d said no. Sunny didn’t deserve to just be a fuck buddy. She was a girl who only deserved the best. Once again, I resolved to keep it platonic.
Yeah. How long will that last?
“You have any questions for me?”
She mulled it over, her finger tapping on her chin. “Actually, I do have several questions. Let’s start with . . . have you ever cheated on a girl?”
“No.”
“Have you ever asked for directions?”
I scoffed. “Please.”
She grunted.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I said.
“That you’re too proud to admit when you’re wrong.”
“I’m never wrong, Cookie.”
She set her sandwich down, a small smile on her face. “That’s the best nickname you could come up with? Why Cookie?”
I leaned back in the metal chair that was entirely too small for my frame. “Because you’re sweet enough to eat.” The words fell softly between us.
Time to move on, Max. She isn’t interested in sex with you.
“Next question?” I asked.
She nodded, thinking. “Hmmm, if I had to pick qualities in a fake boyfriend, I’d want him to be a great spider killer. Are you?”
“They don’t scare me.”
“Even the big hairy ones? There’s one currently residing in my bedroom somewhere.”
I grinned. “Let me come over and I’ll hunt him down.”
“Right,” she smirked. “Here’s a good one for you: Would you buy me feminine products?”
“I might come home with baby diapers—but yeah, I’d try my damnedest.”
She bit back a grin, but a giggle erupted.
I smiled. “Are you trying to make me uncomfortable, Cookie?”
“Maybe . . . anyway . . . how many times a day do you masturbate?”
“As many as possible.” And I thought about you every single time this week.
“Why do you want to put it in our butts?”
My hands flew up in the air. “Who said I did?”
She turned fire-engine red. “Fine. It was just a question—I’ve always wondered.”
Now it was my turn to laugh. “You should see the color of your face right now. For the record, there are plenty of other places I’d like to put it.”
She waved that comment off. “Do you believe in soul mates or love at first sight?”
I tensed. “Yes.”
Her eyes zeroed in on mine. “Seriously? Come on—this is your fake girlfriend. You can tell me the truth.”
“If the universe wants us with one person, I dig it. I believe in fate,” I said.
“Don’t you just think it’s more about who is standing in front of you when the time is right? What if you met your one true love at a party when you were sixteen, but because you went your separate ways for one reason or another, you never see her again? Or maybe the next time you see her, she’s already committed to someone else.”