Page 17 of The Fake Boyfriend Fiasco

She pulled the ball closer with her fingertips and shouted to Varo, “What am I supposed to do with this?”

“You’re on my team,” he grinned. “Bring it over here.”

“She’s on my team,” Nik managed to growl.

“Too late,” Aria teased, her tone sing-song. “Sorry, love.” She leaned in to kiss his cheek and whispered in his ear, “How am I doing?”

Then, as reality filtered in—as he remembered that she wasn’t his, that the kiss hadn’t been real at all—she winked and swam away.

Chapter 4

Make It Tequila

There wasn’t a single clock in Varo’s huge, fancy house. Aria knew, because when the sun hung low in the sky and her lungs were exhausted with laughing and swimming, she’d excused herself to wander through the villa’s cool, cavernous halls.

The place was like a magical world; timeless, unbelievably luxurious, and oddly silent—except for the chatter of the cleaners, who flitted in and out of rooms like fairies.

But the disorientating bubble of the villa didn’t faze the industrious Georgia. It was around 6 p.m., according to Aria’s phone, when the little bombshell—a word that described her in every possible way—began running through the house, ordering everyone to get ready. “We’re going out! No, don’t moan, Kieran; it’s just a light one tonight. Dinner! A bar or five! It’ll be fun!”

One of the guys whose names Aria refused to remember wandered into the room, dripping wet, a phone pressed to his ear. “Sí. Sí, queremos—wait, hold on a sec. Hey. Yo, Nik’s girl.”

Aria looked up from her own phone, pasting a smile on her face. Her thumbs kept moving as she tapped out an outraged text to Jen.

Everyone keeps calling me Nik’s FUCKING girl!

“Yeah?”

“You want some blow?”

She narrowly avoided gawping like a cartoon character. And only because she had decades of experience in being cool as shit. “Um… nah. No thanks, man. I’m good.”

“Cool, cool.” The guy switched back to Spanish and disappeared.

What the hell kind of people just… ordered their cocaine by phone? Like it was a bloody Chinese takeaway? Rich people, she supposed.

“Aria!” Georgia shrieked, barrelling back into the room. “Get ready! We’re leaving in four hours!”

“Am I… supposed to take four hours to—?”

Georgia slapped her hands against the cushions either side of Aria’s head and leaned in, her expression grim. “Time is different here,” she whispered darkly. “It’ll take you forty minutes just to get your falsies on.”

Aria didn’t mention the fact that it took her forty minutes on a good day. False eyelashes were not her area of expertise. “Oh, right. Okay then.”

“Chop chop!” Georgia cried, already running off through the house. “Let’s go, people! Let’s go! Where’s Varo? Varo, pon tu trasero aquí, you tit!”

* * *

Three hours later, Aria realised that Georgia hadn’t been exaggerating. She’d never taken this long to get ready in her life.

She rifled through her makeup bag for some lip gloss and ran through a mental checklist. Dress: present and correct, the low-cut neckline secured with acres of tit tape. Shoes: by the bed, just waiting to be worn. Jewellery: her bracelets were fine, her necklace was fine, but she might change the studs in her earlobes for some hoops…

She barely registered the fact that the shower’s distant splash, audible through the bathroom door, had stopped. But she sure as shit noticed a second later when that door opened to reveal Nik, his tawny skin glistening, his gorgeous body barely covered by the little white towel slung low on his hips.

Aria stared at his reflection in the mirror, her mouth suddenly dry, her heart pounding. Despite herself, she squeezed her thighs together under the dressing table, a spark of heat flicking to life in her belly. Baby Jesus on a cracker, he was so damn fine. He raised an arm to scratch his head, revealing that even his fucking armpit hair was sexy. How could armpit hair be sexy? Was she high?

No, just horny. Basically, the same thing.

Nik’s absent gaze found hers in the mirror, and his distracted expression disappeared. He was all focus now, dark eyes sharpening, that wide mouth tilting into a smirk. Probably because she was staring so hard.

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