Page 26 of Not That Into You

“I didn’t realize you were such a chicken.”

My nostrils flare. I know he’s playing me—I know it—but I still can’t resist. “I’m not a chicken.”

“Prove it.”

Goddammit. I want to shove him away and tell him to go to hell. But pride cometh before the fall, and I’ve no doubt a harrowing fall is in my future. “Fine. Give it to me.”

He hands me the suit, and I push him out of the dressing room.

After a few moments of tugging and tucking, I take a deep breath and look in the mirror. The suit looks... good. Sexy without being overly revealing. It has a heart-shaped neckline with thick straps and cut-outs on the sides of the waist.

“Get out here, Matthews.”

Goddess, save me. I’d really like to punch him in the face. I don’t usually have a temper, but the tone of his voice makes my hackles rise.

I pull the curtain back and am gratified when Cameron’s eyes widen. He takes an audible breath in before a slow smile spreads across his face.

“Damn.”

I roll my eyes. “It’s just a bathing suit.”

His smile broadens as his gaze remains trained on my chest. I resist the urge to cover myself with my arms. “Eyes up top, jackass.”

He snorts as his eyes finally connect with mine. My stomach flutters as I notice the heat in his gaze. Swallowing, I try to remain unaffected. “Had your fill yet?”

“Nope.”

Shaking my head, I back up, but before I can pull the curtain closed, Cameron moves into my space, making it hard to breathe. I take another step back, stumbling in my haste. He grasps my waist to steady me, causing my skin to warm and heart to pound.

Our gazes lock, and we both freeze, suspended in time. My breathing turns shallow as his eyes darken. Neither of us moves until he slowly caresses the side of my waist with his thumb. Goosebumps pebble my skin as I swallow and try to move out of his reach.

Holding me still, he drops his mouth to my ear. “You know, as my fake girlfriend, you’ll have to get used to my touch.” His thumb strokes my waist again. “I’m a tactile person.”

My eyes flutter closed before common sense finally reasserts itself. What the heck am I doing? I shove his chest and step back. “You plan to grope me in front of your mother?” I shake my head. “Nice try, Stanhope. Your parents would be scandalized if you rubbed up against me in front of them.”

He shrugs. “They’ll still expect me to touch you.”

“I suppose this is the point where we discuss ground rules and boundaries?”

He puts his hands on his hips. “If you like.”

“I get people will expect you to touch me in certain friendly, G-rated ways. Holding hands, resting a hand on my back. That sort of thing. But I don’t think anything more than that is necessary.”

A smile spreads across his face. “Oh, I don’t know about that. I’m an affectionate guy. I like to kiss people.”

“I noticed.”

“And I would certainly kiss my girlfriend.”

“Chastely.”

“Define ‘chastely.’”

“A peck on the cheek.”

“That’s for acquaintances. I would kiss my girlfriend on the lips.”

I grit my teeth. “That won’t be necessary.”

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