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My mouth falls open, stunned.
It took me weeks of feeding that ornery feline for her to even start warming up to me. Everyone else I’ve seen her around, she’s treated them like they were carrying the fucking plague. But she leaps into Summer’s arms and starts licking her face within seconds of setting her little cat eyes on her.
“Yeah,” Summer answers through giggles. “She seems so nasty.”
“She’s, uh, not usually like this.”
“Uh huh,” Summer answers teasingly, like she doesn’t believe me.
I’m almost offended how little Summer had to do to win the cat’s affection compared to what she put me through. My mouth bunches up at the side and I drill the furball with an accusing glare.
“Aw, you’re a good girl, aren’t you?” Summer coos at the animal.
Uh huh, I snark internally, sure she is.
“Should we take her up and show her my room?” Summer asks.
Summer’s room. My ab muscles clench. I can feel my quickened pulse at the base of my cock.
“Sure,” I nod.
“Keep the door open up there, you two!” Olivia teases while we walk up the stairs.
“Shut up!” Summer replies with a laugh, though I don’t miss the hint of embarrassment in her voice.
Summer told me that her and her roommate are best friends, so it makes sense not to try to pull the wool over her eyes. We probably couldn’t pull it off. My roommates, on the other hand, we should try to fool if we want this fake relationship thing to be convincing.
Fake relationship thing. I can’t believe I’ve ended up in the middle of a freaking romcom plot.
But when my eyes locked with Summer’s ex after I kissed her, when I saw the look of defiance in his expression, a look that I recognize as a competitor, a look that tells me he’s not ready to give up so easily, I knew that it would take more than just one fake kiss to keep him from trying to win Summer back.
Then the idea occurred to me. Faking it with Summer for as long as it takes, and her watching my cat in exchange.
Can I say that I don’t see any appeal in the idea of pretending to be Summer’s boyfriend? Can I say that I don’t see any appeal in slinging my arm over her shoulders and pulling her close to my body? In pressing my lips against hers and tasting her tongue again? In knowing, if only fleetingly, what it would feel like for her to be mine?
I can’t say that. Because I sure as hell do see the appeal.
But ultimately, this is just a mutually beneficial arrangement. A business agreement.
My cat is still in Summer’s arms, her head peaking over Summer’s shoulder and darting around, now more with curiosity than anxiety and distrust.
I force my eyes to stay glued to the cat, keeping my gaze from tracking downward and locking on Summer’s ass, which is where it really wants to go, drawn like a magnet to its opposite charge.
I’m in Summer’s room. The thought blares in my mind when we step through her door.
It’s pretty much what I expected. Very girly, very neat and tidy. Lots of art and decorations on the walls. A full bookshelf.
“Where should I put this?” I ask, nodding to the cat bed in my hands. Summer points to an open space next to her bookshelf while she kneels to set down the cat. The cat unlatches from Summer and starts tentatively exploring, letting out a low and long meow.
“Cute toy,” Summer says, looking at the knit pig that lies on top of my folded-up sweater.
“Yeah,” I answer, feeling a tenderness behind my chest at the thought of leaving here without it. “It’s uh … it’s got a lot of sentimental value. Try to take care of it. Not like I think you wouldn’t. It’s just …”
“I will,” Summer says, her voice reassuring.
I take a deep breath and nod. To my surprise, some of the trepidation fades away. I know I wouldn’t even dream of trusting that pig to most people. But knowing it’s going to be with Summer … it puts me at ease.
Even though I hardly know her. Weird, right?
