Page 66 of Hard to Fake

My greedy fingers sink into her hips, my other hand tangled in her hair.

The Range Rover normally feels spacious, but right now I’m furious with how cramped we are. Every time I try to shift, my elbow is blocked by the seat. When I pull her closer, the console acts as a barrier.

I want to pull her into my lap and feel her body the way I barely got the chance to at laser tag.

“Miles,” Brooke whispers against my mouth.

There’s something in her voice that’s as much a warning as it is a seduction.

She’s kissing me like she cares and wants me to care too. Like it’s not only desire, but feelings.

I can’t give her that, no matter how much I want to.

I tug her back an inch. “Princess… I can’t do this.”

Brooke stiffens against me. Her expression transforms, the softness gone, replaced with surprise, then coolness.

Then she’s back on the other side of the car and fastening her seatbelt.

Shit. This is exactly what I didn’t want—for her to feel rejected.

“Brooke, wait.”

“We should get going.”

Her voice is resolved, and it’s clear this conversation is over.

I debate arguing with her but end up putting the car into gear to drive her home.

16

BROOKE

"You ever consider yoga?" Nova puffs, her pink ponytail bobbing and her earmuffs making her look like a kid.

"Too slow," I say as the trail turns. My legs power me higher, the leaves crunching under my feet. My lungs burn from the exertion and cool air as we stop at a lookout point with a waterfall.

Nova oohs and aahs over the sight.

“You should paint it,” I suggest.

“Not lugging my supplies this far up,” she counters.

I grab my water bottle, chugging gratefully.

“So, you looked pretty close with Miles last night,” my friend says.

The images she sent me documenting our fake romance flash through my mind.

Us laughing.

Him holding me.

Finally, one in which Miles’s lips were pressed to mine.

"We had to make it look convincing,” I say.

Nova’s smile is wide and genuine. "Well, you definitely convinced me.”

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