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He tilts his head to the side. “Hmm. I guess I forgot.”
My stomach feels like it’s attempting an actual somersault as I contemplate whether he’s teasing me or trying to tell me he meant it when he admitted to liking me before. The trouble with this arrangement is that I suspect both are at least partially true.
“I love it when you wear that dress,” he says, his eyes running over my body. “Have I told you look beautiful tonight? Because you do.”
I sigh and roll my eyes. Now he’s definitely messing with me. “You’re violating the ground rules. ‘No nudity’ includes referencing nudity. And this is exactly what I meant before about excessive flirting.”
He licks his lips and turns away. “I’m sorry,” he says after a while. “I guess I got caught up in the moment again. Old habits die hard.”
“Yeah, whatever. Look, I know we have to make it look real in front of everyone. But don’t patronize me when it’s just the two of us, okay?”
I glance up to find him frowning, his eyes narrowed. “Do you still think so little of me, Loren? Tell me you don’t really believe every compliment I pay you is insincere or meant to bait you.”
“The problem is I’ve never been able to tell when you’re being sincere and when you’re not,” I admit. “And I’m not sure you know either.”
He nods slowly, and his mouth gradually turns up in a sardonic smile. “Yeah. Well, sometimes I forget that you’re smarter than me, too, but you always manage to remind me.”
He stares at me a minute longer, and I don’t like the way it’s making me feel so vulnerable.
“I think I’m ready to go home,” I begin, crossing my arms, but I stop short when I notice the way we’ve garnered the attention of a few partygoers.
“Hold on. Everyone’s watching,” Blake says when he sees them too.
“They must think we’re arguing.”
He reaches out to grab my arm, loosening my stance and pulling me in closer. “We probably ought to keep this going for more than one date, though. Right?” He forces a smile before wrapping me up in an embrace.
I clear my throat and look up at him. “Right.”
“Should we make up, then?”
I blink a few times. “Make up?”
He nods as his eyes dart down to my mouth. Then he closes the last couple of inches between us. I bring my hands up to his chest as he kisses me, and even though I can tell he’s holding back, it doesn’t stop my insides from turning to mush.
Dammit.
Why does he have to be so good at this too? Couldn’t he at least be a bad kisser? Take a wide angle, miss the mark, use too much tongue, something? Anything?
He pulls away slightly, just enough to whisper, “Think they’ll believe I’m taking you home for a different reason yet?”
“We should make sure they get the wrong idea,” I reply, fisting my hands in his shirt and rising to my toes to crush my lips against his again.
I should feel embarrassed by the rumble of laughter in his chest. And I do—just not enough to stop. This is the biggest PDA stunt I’ve ever pulled, and I’m acting entirely too thirsty for someone who knows this is all fake. But when Blake slides his hand into my hair and cradles the back of my head, deepening the kiss, I practically forget about everything else.
Then both of our phones chime at once, and I flinch, breaking the spell. I turn my wrist to read the text message from Tenley on my watch. “I think it worked. Your sister-in-law just asked me if I needed to have ‘the talk.’”
“Don’t tell her, but I think it’s a little late,” he says, chuckling softly. He takes a step back to check his phone, snorting when he reads a message, I presume from JD.
I look up at him questioningly, but he shakes his head and presses his lips together. “I’ll spare you. I had it coming after the way I’ve been roasting him for the past six months.”
I roll my eyes, and he surprises me with one last kiss on the lips. “I guess we’d better give the people what they want, Agnes. I’ll take you home.”
I bite my lip and nod, and he turns to lead me out. I can feel everyone’s eyes on us again, as well as Blake’s hand resting dangerously low on my back.
Okay, so I walk out of the party with my fake boyfriend’s hand on my butt. But it’s necessary, right?
He does leave it there until we get to his truck, though. And, stupid me, I let him.
