Page 19 of The Fake Boyfriend Fiasco

Nik wet his lips, feeling slightly dizzy himself. It wasn’t alcohol, though—at least, not all of it. Hours of drinking with Aria, dancing with Aria, trying and failing not to flirt with Aria, were going to his head way faster than the booze. And the silken feel of her skin against his palm wasn’t helping. “Right,” he nodded. “Of course. Yeah.”

She looked down at his hand, which hadn’t moved. Then she looked up at him. He thought she was trying to arch a brow, but it came out more like a surprised-looking head loll. “Nik—”

“Sorry.” He dragged his hand away and slapped it on the bar, letting the cool chrome soothe his skin. He felt like he was burning. Maybe he really was drunk. Because he was supposed to be getting to know her, not mauling her like a twat.

“You know, you’re really cute,” she said. “Sometimes, I mean. Other times you’re kind of scary-sexy.”

He frowned, biting the inside of his cheek. “I scare you?” That was the last thing he’d wanted. But he knew he pushed things too far, sometimes—all the time, actually—and Aria, tough as she seemed, was fragile if you took a minute to look. “I’m sorry. I'm really sorry, Ri.”

“No, no, you don’t scare me. I mean, you don’t scare me, scare me. It’s more like… you know when you’re about to do a guy and he whips out some monster dick and you’re like, Well, fuck, how’s that gonna fit?”

A smile tugged at his lips. “No, I don’t know. I usually—”

“Nope!” She held up a hand. “No more filth from you, sir! Not when you make it sound so good.”

His smile blossomed into a grin. “Good, huh?” Nik leaned in close, smoothing her hair out of her face. This time, he knew he didn’t imagine her shiver, the way she shifted restlessly as his fingers skimmed her neck. He brought his lips close to her ear and asked, “You like my dirty mouth, moro mou?”

She met his gaze, her glossy lips parted. Every time she reapplied that fucking lip gloss tonight, he remembered the way she’d looked at him earlier in their room. She thought his mouth was filthy, but she’d die if she heard him thinking about what else would make those lips shine.

“Maybe I do,” she said finally.

“Would you like to hear more?”

One of Aria’s many wonderful traits, he was learning, was the fact that she never backed down. If he was outrageous, she outdid him. If he laid down a gauntlet, she picked it up. So, he was awaiting her response with almost embarrassing eagerness when he felt a strange hand sliding up his arm, demanding his attention.

Turning to glare at the owner of that hand, Nik snapped, “What?”

A redhead with cheekbones sharper than a knife blinked up at him. “Aren’t you Nikolas Christou?” she asked, excitement all over her face.

Well, now he felt bad, snarling at a fan. With a sigh, Nik drummed up a weak smile and nodded. “Yep. That’s me.”

“Oh my God!” She leaned in, her hand sliding further up his arm—okay, so she was touchy—over his shoulder—friendly, then—and down his chest…

Until Aria grabbed the girl’s wrist between finger and thumb like it was a bag of dog shit, pushing it away. “He’s busy,” she drawled, running her own hand through Nik’s hair. There was a possessive edge to her touch that made his muscles tighten and his blood race.

The redhead gave Aria a look that was half-nervous, half-disgusted, and 100% pissing Nik off. “Calm down. I’m just trying to talk to him—”

“Talk less. Walk more.”

After a moment’s tense hesitation, the woman turned with a huff and a flick of bright hair. Aria watched her go with clear amusement, shaking her head slowly. Then she turned back to the bar. “That’s another shot for you, sugar.”

He should never have agreed to this game. He hadn’t realised before, but it seemed like he actually did need Aria—and not just because her presence soothed all his niggling anxieties. He’d been approached by more than enough people tonight to warrant a fake-girlfriend-bodyguard. So many, in fact, that she’d turned it into a drinking game.

He wrinkled his nose at the prospect of more alcohol. He was going to end up getting his stomach pumped. “Oh, come on. She was barely flirting.”

Aria snorted. “After tonight, I’m starting to understand why you hired me. That was a blatant come-on. No wonder you fall into bed with people and don’t even know how it happened.” She raised a hand to catch the bartender’s attention.

“You’re trying to kill me, aren’t you? That’s what this is about.”

“You’re not backing down, are you? We agreed. A shot for everyone I get rid of.”

“Fine,” Nik sighed. “Make it tequila, this time.”

* * *

“You guys want to stay up and smoke?”

Aria paused in the act of unbuckling her shoe, leaning drunkenly against the hallway wall. She looked up at Varo with her mouth hanging open, shock overtaking the ache in her feet. “You can’t be serious.”

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