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As for me, I’m standing next to my fake girlfriend, my arm over her shoulders. Even though I know this is fake, it feels too fucking right.
When Olivia says she needs to go to the bathroom, Summer tells her friend she’ll tag along. But once she’s just a couple steps away from me, I see something for the first time: my name on her back.
If I thought seeing her head-on, with my number emblazoned on her chest, made me feel possessive, I need a new word to describe what seeing my name adorning her back does to me.
An intense feeling rattles through every muscle in my body, deep into my bones. I need to kiss her now, like a man on fire needs to jump into the nearest body of water.
There’s no way any of the rational parts of my brain can keep me from setting my drink down and stalking towards her. I catch up with her just a few feet from where she left my side, spin her around, and grip her hips to hold her in front of me.
“Hudson?” she asks, taken aback. “What are you …”
“You haven’t given me a kiss yet.”
Her tongue drags against her bottom lip. “Oh?”
I lower my voice so no one else can hear. “My first win on the team, and no congratulations kiss?” My smirk is wry. “What kind of girlfriend are you?”
“I have to be the one to take the initiative now?” Her voice is a musical tease.
I show her that she sure as fuck doesn’t, crushing my mouth to hers with hunger. I slant my lips deeper into the kiss, and when she moans I drink it up like it’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted, because it is.
We’re just putting on a show. Just making this look real for my teammates.
That’s what I tell myself. But there’s a voice in my head growing louder and louder, rising above a whisper, letting me know that I’m a fool if I try to convince myself that I’m kissing Summer like this for any reason other than because I want to.
I pull my lips from Summer’s, and as soon as I do, I’m already anticipating the next chance I get to taste her.
“Congratulations, then,” she coos. Her swollen lips would tell anyone who’s looking that I just kissed her like she’s mine. The glint in her eye would tell anyone who’s looking that she liked it—but there’s no one to see that glint but me.
Summer heads to the bathroom with Olivia and I rejoin the guys. They’re all abuzz about the game, of course. I struggle to keep tuned to their conversation. Something’s furrowing into my mind. A worry.
I like this too much.
I like kissing Summer too much. I like spending time with Summer too much. Shit, I like thinking about Summer too much.
The season’s about to start. I can’t afford to have any distractions. And Summer Andrews is damn sure a girl who could distract me.
I just need to put my guard up. Keep playing my role as fake boyfriend, keep holding up my end of the bargain, keep making it look real as can be to any onlookers; but work harder to keep more of an emotional distance between us.
Summer and Olivia are talking and laughing with each other when they come out of the bathroom. Instead of coming back to our table, they head to the bar to get some more drinks.
Whenever Summer turns her back to me, letting me see my name on her back, my cock twitches, and a feeling of pure satisfaction hums through me.
I’m not the only one with my eyes glued in their direction. Tuck’s looking, too. Luckily for him, he’s not looking at my girl, though. He’s looking at Olivia.
My girl. That’s not what she is. Not really. I have to remind myself of that.
“Your hot girlfriend has a hot friend,” Tuck says. There’s no mistaking the interest in his voice. He sounds like a man who’s locked in on his target and is just waiting for the right moment.
I almost feel like telling him to back off. The last thing I need is for one of my roommates to be going for my fake girlfriend’s best friend. That’s a complication I can do without.
But even though I don’t know Olivia too well, I think I know her well enough to trust her to be able to handle herself. Summer tells me she has a longstanding bias against hockey players, so I doubt she’ll have a hard time shooting down Tuck’s advances.
“She doesn’t like hockey players,” I say to Tuck.
Tuck let out a low and intrigued hum. “I like a challenge.”
When Summer and Olivia return to our table with their drinks, it doesn’t take long for Tuck to pounce.
