“Tell me how we can make this pretend thing between us seem more real,” I say my voice low and hopefully sexy.
“We can push it to the next level.” He tucks a wet strand of hair behind my ear, making me shiver. “We can do little things, like me touching your hair. Those kinds of gestures make us seem like a bona fide couple.”
I give in to my earlier urge and rest my hand on top of his thigh, though I don’t dive beneath his shorts like I wanted to. That would be too much. Right? “Do you mean like this?”
“Uh.” His gaze drops to my hand on his thigh. “Yeah. Like that,” he says to my hand.
I give him a firm squeeze. He’s solid as a rock, I swear. I run my hand down until I’m touching his bare knee, his soft leg hair tickling my palm, and I’m suddenly tempted to do more exploring. More searching. My hands are literally itching to stroke all over his body. We have the time. I don’t have to be downstairs until ten, or maybe even later. We can give in to all of this attraction bubbling between us and just…let it take over.
Forget the emotional component of all of this. Emotions have nothing to do with what I’m feeling toward him.
“Sydney…” he starts, but this time I’m the one with the advantage. I go up on my knees so I’m more level with his mouth and kiss him. I grab hold of his shoulders and hang on for dear life as I press my mouth on his once. Twice. Soft, lingering kisses that last longer and longer, until our lips are parted and his tongue sneaks out to trace my upper lip.
It’s like we’ve given ourselves permission to just go for it, so we do. The kiss is instantly hot. Deep. Wet. Tangling tongues and hot breaths. I somehow end up on his lap, straddling him, clinging to his shoulders, rubbing against him like I’ve lost all inhibitions. I’m wearing tiny denim shorts and a tank top and his hands are on my butt, gripping me, pulling me in close so I can feel him.
And yeah. He’s big. Erect. I can’t believe it.
I want more of it. More of him.
He breaks the kiss first and starts in on my neck, his lips hot and damp as they slide over my sensitive skin. “Christ, you smell good,” he whispers.
There’s a knock on the door and I look up to watch as it swings open and there’s Fable, standing in the doorway with wide eyes and her mouth hanging open. I tear my lips away from Wade’s, my hands in his hair, his hands on my butt, both of us wrapped around each other so tight you couldn’t fit a piece of paper in between us.
Oops.
“Ohmigosh! Sorry, sorry, sorry!” Fable scrambles out of my room and slams the door shut so hard, everything rattles.
Great.
“I bet we looked pretty convincing just now,” I mutter as I lift Sydney off my lap and set her on the edge of the bed.
She runs her hands over her damp hair, her head averted so…what? She doesn’t have to look at me? Hell. “I’m probably going to lose my job.”
“Why? Because we’re pretending to be a couple and we got a little too into it for a few minutes? No way. I won’t let it happen.” I rise to my feet, ready to go talk to Fable and explain what happened. I do a quick dick check, and yep, my erection disappeared the moment we heard Fable’s panicked voice.
Talk about a mood changer. More like talk about a mood accelerator. The moment I sat next to Sydney on her bed, I had visions of laying her out on the mattress and getting her naked. I touched her hair, she touched my thigh, and then it was on.
But the way she’s acting now, not looking at me, all fluttery nervousness, I’m wondering if I read her wrong after all.
“Hey.” I touch her shoulder and she jumps, turning to finally look at me. The worry and guilt written all over her expressive face tugs at my heart. “Are you all right?”
She nods and rises to her feet so she’s standing in front of me, but she only reaches me about mid-chest. She’s so tiny. When I cupped her perfect ass in my hands just moments ago I realized just how small she is.
“I’m fine,” she says, her voice a little shaky. “I just—I don’t want Fable mad at me. Us.”
“She won’t be,” I say firmly. “They’re the ones who asked us to do this. How could we not get close after pretending to be a couple?”
“Yeah, but we’ve accelerated from zero to one hundred in about two-point-five seconds. What just happened felt crazy fast.”
“Too fast?” When she frowns I continue. “You don’t feel like I pushed you too hard, do you?”
“No, never.” Sydney shakes her head. “I’m the one who threw myself at you.”
“Not quite.” I run a hand through my hair and take a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart. I’m agitated, my blood fiery hot as it pumps through my veins. What just happened—that kiss—blew my freaking mind.
This girl has come out of nowhere and rocked my world with a few choice words, a handful of touches and a kiss that’s making me reevaluate every other kiss I’ve ever experienced.
Which is fucking crazy, right? I just met this girl. I know nothing about her. Plus, she’s too young, and I’m too young, and I don’t want anything serious. This isn’t serious. Hell, it’s fake.
Fake.
Fake.
Fake.
Doesn’t feel like it, though. The energy radiating between us at this very moment is palpable. I need to get out of here. Need to go to Fable and make this right.
“I’m gonna talk to Fable and straighten everything out, all right?” I grab hold of Sydney’s arm, and it’s like my fingers catch on fire just from touching her. The girl affects me like no other. “You sure you okay?”
She nods, a hunk of damp hair falling in front of her face, and I’m tempted to tuck it behind her ear again. But I resist. Barely. “I’m fine.”
Giving in to my urges, I kiss her one more time. Just a brief peck on the lips, but damn if I didn’t feel that quick touch stir something deep inside my soul.
Ridiculous.
I flee her room before I do something stupid like kiss her again, and she doesn’t stop me. Good. I need some time alone just to reevaluate what happened. Even if it is only a few minutes walking down the stairs in search of Fable, at least I’m alone with my thoughts—my overloaded brain that’s filled with all sorts of crazy images. Images like me and Sydney together—for real.
As if I have time to try out this dating thing. My life is about to change completely, as long as everything unfolds as planned. I’ll be traveling constantly for away games. I’ll never be home because I’ll be working so hard. Practicing all the time. It’s not fair to ask a woman to stand by my side and deal with my hectic life. I need to remain single.
I think of Owen, who is definitely not single. I think of Drew, who’s been with Fable since he was twenty-one and has zero regrets. Hell, Owen’s been with Chelsea since he was nineteen. Were they always believers in love? Or did the women they met change their perspectives?
Fable’s in the kitchen cutting apple slices and she barely looks in my direction when I enter the room. “Want a snack?” she asks.
“No,” I say firmly. “Want to talk?”