“What?” she asks, turning to look at me.
“I said you look so pretty,” I bite out and she narrows her eyes at me before turning around.
I can’t even focus on the movie. It’s not even scary at this point. Because what’s scarier is the fact that when Wren goes to speak to Kennedy and Scarlett, she leans forward a little, making me wrap my arms around her stomach so she doesn’t fall as her ass grinds into mine. No one else seems to notice the amount of pain I’m in as they all shield themselves from the movie.
“Can you keep still? You're making it worse,” I whisper just for her to hear. I can tell my breath is hot against her neck because she shivers, her back slightly arching into my front.
“This isn't comfortable for me either, Davis,” she murmurs, turning around so our faces millimetres apart. Her dark eyes pin mine as she says, “Especially with your dick jabbing into my ass.”
Right. So it is that obvious.
I do what I do best.
Deny, deny, deny.
“It's a biological reaction, Wren. Don't get too excited.”
“Right,” she says with a mocking tone. And then - because she’s a fucking sadist - she grinds herself against me on purpose and I groan. “This is all just biological, right? That's why your heart is racing and you're gripping onto my stomach like it's the only thing keeping you alive. Biology.”
“It's a scary movie.”
She laughs quietly. “You can think of all the excuses that you want, Davis. But that doesn’t change the fact that you're hard and I’m turning you on without doing anything.”
Yeah….no.
I’m not doing this.
I’m not letting my fake girlfriend make me feel like my balls are about to fall off if she doesn’t do anything about it. Because shecan'tdo anything about it. We’re meant to be friends, first and foremost. And from what I’ve seen in other relationships with my friends, friends don’t almost bring the other to orgasm in the back of a truck simply by grinding their ass against the other.
I stand up abruptly and everyone’s heads turn around and they all sigh when they realise it’s me and not one of the tethered from the movie.
“What are you doing?” Wren whisper-shouts. I start to step over them as I try to get out.
“I need to pee.”
Am I really running away from my problems like a child? Yes. But it’s better than sitting there and letting her torture me. Still, I can’t seem to get away from her because I barely make it more than twenty steps away from the car before she’s behind me.
“Miles,” she presses but I keep on walking. “Miles,” she says again. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
That makes me stop in my tracks and I turn around. Her hands are out at her sides, clearly annoyed at me. “What’s wrong withme?” I snap. “What’s wrong withyou, Wren? You say you want this to work because you’re scared of running out of time then you pull shit like that when you know you don’t need to and then you have the nerve to ask what’s wrong with me? It makes no fucking sense.”
“I wasn’t doing it on purpose,” she challenges, her tone biting.
“Oh, so you weren’t purposefully moving against me like that just then?”
“Okay, the last time I was doing it on purpose but it was a joke.”
I step closer to her. “But it’s not a joke, Wren. This is our future you're playing with here. You’re the one who is so worried about messing this up and you can’t do shit likethat.You can’t ask me to zip down your dresses or grind against my lap. You can’t wear shorts and you can’t wear your hair down because-”
“You’renottelling me what to wear, Davis,” she says, defensively. “Fake boyfriend or not. You’re not controlling how I look.”
“You’re right. I’m sorry. That’s a me problem and it’s unfair of me but-” I get cut off by the strange smile that has formed against her mouth. “Why are you smiling?”
“Because all of your friends are staring at us and they probably think we’re fighting,” she says through a toothy smile. Honestly, this woman scares me. She steps closer to me, tugging on my sweatshirt.
“So we’re not fighting…?”
She shakes her head. “Just shut up and kiss me.”
