Page 4 of The Fake Out

Without my permission, my eyes zeroed in on her round ass, and instantly, my dick got heavy in my jeans. Shaking the image from my head, I turned to the door.

It was going to be a long fucking month, and yet I couldn’t stop myself from smiling about it.

He’d made my bed? I didn’t know what to do with that. No one had ever done that stuff for me. Not since my mom had died. Maybe Pop did at first, but I couldn’t say I remembered that time well. Tension knotted my shoulders as I twirled a single curl around my finger and surveyed the pink flowers on the bedding. Each time I visited my brother, I used my own sheets and quilt. I’d brought an extra set from home the first time I visited and had left them here so I didn’t have to bring them back and forth. He always let me have the bed, and I couldn’t stomach thoughts of what might have happened on the sheets, even if he’d washed them. Chris was the bigger germophobe of the family, but I hadn’t escaped the neurosis completely.

I had my own things, and bedding was one of them. Rationally, I understood that the staph infection my mom caught after coming back from a tropical vacation with Pop wasn’t likely from the sheets and towels at their hotel, but ten-year-old me was convinced the infection that caused her to become septic came from sleeping in strangers’ germs. And I still struggled with the idea of germy sheets.

Jake had always mocked me for packing my own sheets and towels when I traveled. Clearly he, along with most people, didn’t understand the sheer amount of rank strangers’ excretions that were forever on hotel room sheets.

I fought a shudder at the thought.

“Let me know if you need anything.”

I spun in time to see Emerson clip his shoulder on the doorframe as he hurried out of the room. The guy chuckled at the clumsy move but didn’t slow or turn back.

My brother’s best friend was…different.When I met him a few years ago, I was confused. The man had the uncontainable energy of Winnie the Pooh’s Tigger and the dopey happiness of my least favorite Friends character. He was so freaking irritating, with his constant chatter and exuberance for life. To this day, I couldn’t wrap my head around how my grump of a brother had bonded with Mr. Happy Pants.

Whatever. This was temporary. Before long, I’d move on to my new place.

Chris had told me to adjust his stuff any way I wanted, so I headed for the dresser, skipping the top drawer, because that was typically the drawer people kept personal shit in. I had zero interest in discovering items that would make me want to burn my eyes out.

Drawers three and four seemed safest.

I yanked the third one open, finding two pairs of sweats. The drawer below it was half filled with athletic shorts. Quickly, I made a stack and shelved them in his almost-empty closet.

Clearly my brother didn’t spend much time here anymore. Not that I was surprised. It had been obvious to all of us long before Chris copped to it that Avery was destined to be his better half. Now that they were done hiding behind this best friend bullshit and he was with her, it didn’t shock me that he was all-in. Chris was a forever-type person. It was only a matter of time before he popped the question.

My brother was picky about who he let into his circle, but once he welcomed a person, that was it.

And besides Avery, Emerson Knight was also solidly in Chris’s circle of forever, even if I didn’t understand why. Though I guessed I didn’t need to understand. If my brother trusted him, that meant Emerson was good people.

I peered over my shoulder toward the center of the room.

And he’d made my bed…

Not to mention he hadn’t made a single snide comment about my quirk.

Shaking my head, I turned back to the task at hand, ignoring the weird flutter in my chest at the thought. As I organized, Avery texted that she and Chris were bringing Pop by for dinner. I hadn’t seen him in a few weeks, but according to Chris, he was getting stronger every day.

I finished unpacking before I pulled out my phone to check in with my friends. Once my family descended, I’d be too busy trying to figure out dinner. Knowing Chris, he’d show up and expect food to magically appear.

Me: Made it - all settled.

My phone instantly buzzed with a FaceTime request.

Struggling to decide whether I wanted to roll my eyes or sigh, I clicked Accept and was greeted by spikes of platinum hair and a pair of bright blue eyes.

“Where is he? And is he shirtless?” Linc craned his neck like he was trying to look around me. “I’ve heard his thing is, like, nakedness.” His brows were in his hairline as he blinked at me in anticipation. “Don’t be stingy with the views, Gi.”

“How many times have I been here before? You know I’ve never seen him without clothes, so don’t believe everything you read.” I huffed.

According to Linc, gossip on all the socials was that Emerson liked hanging out in his birthday suit while he was at home. But I couldn’t imagine my brother would put up with that shit. Sounded to me like the wishful thinking of millions of people. And I guess, in a way, I could understand it. Not that I felt the same way. But his goofiness aside, it was impossible not to notice that the man was sexy as sin. Even I’d had trouble looking away from the corded forearm muscles as he moved my bags.

The image on the screen went blurry, and then Mila appeared on the video chat.

“Bored of Boston?” Her tone was hopeful, like she’d be thrilled if I said I was ready to move back to New York already. It must be nice to live in that kind of fairy tale land.

“Linc is just hoping for man chest,” I explained.

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