My mom’s words, whispered as Wes helped my dad grill burgers, played in my head. I know you said you’re just friends, but he’s perfect for you, and that boy likes you. He was only pretending, I knew that, and it wasn’t perfect—or rather, I wasn’t perfect for him. I’d been lying to him about my real job for months, and I didn’t know how I was going to tell him the truth at this point. When he fell into comfortable trash talk with my family during a Spades tournament, it was hard to remember that.
I’d pulled on a tank top and flannel sleep shorts with yellow ducks while waiting for Wes to return. The evening temperature was ideal for an open window—not too humid or hot, with a nice breeze blowing through the trees. The cozy ambience, with only the bedside light and the chirps of crickets and the din of cicadas drifting in from outside, soothed me.
My breath caught in my throat when Wes stepped inside and closed the door behind him. “No Aunt Delia?”
He smiled, tossing his jeans and T-shirt on his gym bag and kicking off his shoes. “I saw her coming, so I hid,” he said, plopping down on the mattress. “She’s relentless.”
“No one ever beats her and my uncle. You’re a legend in my family now.” I shifted my gaze to his face, but it wandered back to admire his body in what I hoped was a subtle sweep.
“Well, I had a good teammate.” His basketball shorts rested low on his hips, and a tight white T-shirt clung to the expanse of his chest and ridged abs. He caught me staring, and my face felt hot.
When my mom insisted he stay the night, she’d brought a sleeping bag and extra pillows, but winked and whispered that the bed might be more comfortable. I’d been grossed out at my mom choreographing a hookup for me, but watching him crouch and arrange the pillows, I thought the same. “We could share the bed,” I said. “You’re going to be uncomfortable on the floor.”
“I’ll be fine down here.” He fluffed the pillows and unrolled the sleeping bag. It was comically small, making me wonder if my mom had brought up a child-sized one.
“Come up here.” I patted the bed, and he hesitated. “I won’t be able to sleep if I know you’re on the floor.”
He pushed back the too-small sleeping bag and stood. “Are you sure?”
“Positive.” That was an understatement. Except sharing a bed with someone I found so irresistible was probably the worst idea of my life.
“I’ll try not to snore.” He had a dimple in his right cheek that showed up when he smiled like that, and I fantasized about running my fingertip from that divot up to slide through his hair, the curls visible with it grown out. His words pulled me from my fantasy as we both took the far edges of the mattress. “Everything okay?”
“Sure.” I turned the bedside lamp off and flipped to my side. The moonlight filtered in from the open window, and I took in his profile as he lay on his back. “Thank you for doing this, for putting up with the entire Colby crew.”
“It’s been fun. Your family is awesome.” He propped his head on his elbow, body angled toward me. “And besides, you’re an easy fake girlfriend to love.”
My breath stuttered at his words. “Whoa, cowboy. Love? You’re moving a little fast, aren’t you? We’ve been fake dating for less than six hours.”
“When you pretend to know, you know.” His low chuckle shook the mattress enough to put my body on a delicious edge. “And after defeating your aunt, I’m feeling confident.”
“Fair. And, I’ll admit, the pretend sex is good—”
“Good? C’mon, girl. I rock your imaginary world.”
I nodded, warmth curling in me at the thought. “Fake nirvana and waking the invisible neighbors, every night.” The trees swaying in the breeze and the gentle chirping of crickets outside offered background noise as we lay together in a brief silence. “I don’t want to be that girl who needs to ask, but it’s not just physical, is it? I mean, you have real fake feelings for me, too?”
His gaze met mine, and he adopted a gravelly, sexy rumble that left a very real ache between my thighs. “Oh, baby,” he groaned, inching closer to stroke the side of my face. “I don’t know what to do with all the real fake feelings I have for you.” His thumb grazed under my lip, and he looked at my mouth for a split second. “It’s all I think about.”
My body was a pot of water one instant from boiling over with his hand still against my cheek, our bodies so close that his body heat would have warmed me, if I wasn’t already flushing from the idea of ripping his clothes off. In the dark, his hazel eyes were shadowed, but I felt like he could see me, really see me. Neither of us moved, and the eye contact seemed endless.