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“What?” My hands fly up between us. “Grace just seems like a really good mom. And she’s the one who invited Kelsey to move in. I don’t know.”
“I was twenty-four years old!” He’s half yelling at me, half laughing, and I can’t tear my eyes away from that openmouthed smile. His head drops forward for a beat. “Harlow, I’ve never met a woman so completely underwhelmed by me. And I know this whole ‘body business’ doesn’t do it for you, but what the heck? Pro-athlete. Graduated with honors from a well-respected school—and because I know you’re thinking, as an athlete, I didn’t have to earn those grades the way thereal studentsdid, let me tell you you’re wrong. I busted my ass for every one.”
I believe him.
I might have been harboring some unfair stereotypes about jocks when we met, but it didn’t take more than one conversation to set me straight. This is a man whotries.
Though why he tries so hard with me, I don’t know.
“What do you care what I think, anyway?”
He considers and then gives me an easy shrug. “Don’t know. But I do.”
That easy admission warms my chest more than it probably should, and I don’t quite know how to respond, so I circle back to the issue at hand.
“Kelsey. Assuming she’s still watching—” Again I go for a peek, and again Wade reins me back in.
“Trust me. She is.”
“Okay, so what do I do here?”
He stares at me through the darkness. “Maybe put your hands on my shoulders or, hell, you don’t have to do anything, really. Just let me lean into your personal space for a minute, if that’s okay.”
My hands move to his shoulders, resting lightly over the hard, layered muscles. “It is.”
Then, slowly, he lowers his head, bringing his brow to touch mine as he gently cups my cheek.
Staring up into the shadows of his face while he’s touching me feels different. And even though we’ve been faking our way through this whole day, right now I feel inexplicably nervous.
“That’s a nice touch with your hand.”
Another short laugh, but this one is warm against my cheek. “My grandma used to watch soaps when I was a kid. I remember her saying the actors put their hands up like that so you couldn’t see if they were really kissing.”
This time the laugh is mine, and I pull back to meet his eyes. “You’re soap-opera kissing me?”
“Only a little.” He winks, that panty-melting smile flashing through the darkness. “If I were giving you the serious soap treatment, it would be hands roaming all over the PG parts of your body. Lots of back, arms, neck, and hair.”
“Wade… are you sure it was yourgrandmawatching?”
“Sorry, Good Girl,” he murmurs so close to my ear, chills streak down my skin. “That information is above your paygrade.”
“Mmm… saving the good stuff for arealgirlfriend. I see how it is.”
Wade starts to step back, an affectionate smile on his face when I catch him by the shirt and pull him back in for one more fake kiss. “Like we can’t quite get enough, right?”
He grins down at me. “You’re a pretty great fake date, Harlow.”
“Told you I would be.”
“Yeah, you did. Let’s get back to the hotel.”
Chapter 8
Wade
It’s barely after six and I’m pretty sure my back is never going to forgive me if I don’t get out of this crappy pull-out bed. Not the best night’s sleep ever, and I’m kicking myself for not making plans before we knocked off. We aren’t due back at my parents’ until lunch, but I have no idea what that means for the woman in the next room.
If she’s the kind to sleep in, I feel like I owe it to her to let her.
