Page 22 of The Fake Boyfriend Fiasco

He doubted it would turn him off, because she was just—God, she was incredibly fucking hot. But if she snored, it might’ve been easier to get irritated with her. To think something like, Damn, I can’t wait for this week to end so I can sleep without her snoring in my ear. Unfortunately, she wouldn’t allow him even that small solace. Aria didn’t snore, or drool, or kick him in her sleep. Nothing.

He watched her in the faint light that crept past their closed curtains. She slept on her stomach, spread out like a starfish, and he slept on his back, also spread out like a starfish. So, he’d woken to find his right limbs tangled with hers, her skin almost feverish. They’d somehow thrown off the sheets, so the first thing Nik saw when he woke up that morning was Aria’s tight, lacy underwear, barely big enough to cover her arse. No tattoos there. He’d noticed that the day before, but the knowledge felt different now.

Maybe because the second thing he’d seen when he woke up was her face. Her cheeks, soft and smushed and lined with pillow creases; her long eyelashes and the shadows of left-over makeup under her eyes; her slightly parted lips, moving as she breathed deeply. When he looked at her, he’d been seized by the urge to kiss those lips. Thank God he’d come to his senses a moment later. He was trying to make her like him, not assault her while she slept.

Nik sighed and stared up at the ceiling, pressing a hand against his aching cock. He was so hard; his morning piss was about to be a fucking nightmare—but he wasn’t focusing on that right now. He was more concerned with how weird last night had been. He hadn’t considered how different it would feel, going out with a girlfriend instead of just his mates. Different, but good. Their relationship might be fake, but the way he’d felt—as if she were his sun, and he’d spent the whole night orbiting her? That had been real.

Real, and painfully natural. Checking on her, making sure she had a drink, watching her laugh and dance with Georgia; none of that had been a chore. And since Nik knew he was a self-absorbed bastard, that fact struck him as… interesting. Honestly, he adored her. And he was convinced, by this point, that she at least wanted him. Not in the plastic, automatic way most people wanted him, for his looks or his money, but in a way that felt personal. So fucking personal. He’d slept with countless people, but he only felt desired when she looked at him.

Those looks didn’t do shit to soothe the demanding hunger inside him, though. In fact, they made things worse. Because she still wasn’t his, and the idea that maybe she could be was like dangling meat in front of a wolf. Stifling a groan, Nik eased out of bed and headed for the shower. He stood under its powerful spray seconds later, tipping his head back as if the water could wash away his confusion.

It didn’t. He was still hopelessly attached, ridiculously horny, and as reckless as ever. He was also carrying out a plan so far-fetched and audacious, he could barely believe his own gall. He could only deal with one of those issues, though, so he set the rest aside and focused on his throbbing cock.

His hands slick with soap, Nik bowed his head beneath the shower’s spray and slid a fist over his aching length. Oh, fuck. Yes. He stroked himself hard. Harder. Imagined that the tight, wet glide of his fist was Aria’s mouth, because if he let himself think about her pussy, he’d really be fucked.

He’d meant to stay quiet, but as he envisioned Aria on her knees before him, he moaned. His strokes sped up, his grip tightening, desire licking at him like hot flames. And then he imaged her pulling back, running the swollen head of his cock over her lips, slicking them with his pre-come the way she’d slicked them with gloss last night…

He grunted as the wave of pleasure broke too early, his come spilling hot into his hand. “Shit.” He shouldn’t have done that. Even as his body tingled with barely-sated arousal, he knew: he shouldn’t have fucking done that. Because now he’d really let himself imagine it, he’d never be free of those mental images. Not unless he got his hands on her—and he still didn’t know if he ever would.

The spark between them could just reflect his own desire. He could be imagining everything he thought he’d seen in her eyes. He was starving for her, and every sarcastic comment she threw, every arched brow and unspoken challenge, made it a thousand times worse. And he loved it.

Water ran into Nik’s eyes as he stared at the come painting his palm. His cock was already hardening again. He was acting like a teenager. But when he was with her, he wanted more than ever to be a man.

* * *

By that afternoon, the sun was beating down as if it wanted to kill them all.

They should probably go inside, but a few of them had started messing around with a football, and now they’d never stop. There was nothing better than a kick-about, in Nik’s book. Especially when it was like this: barefoot on the grass, the ball making a satisfying thwack against his skin with each leisurely pass, his two best mates laughing and chatting with him.

And his woman in sight, wearing one of those tiny bikinis, that ever-present sketchbook in her hands.

Not your woman, said the voice of reason.

She should be, said the voice of every reckless thing Nik had ever done.

Really, that voice hadn’t steered him wrong yet. He should probably be alarmed by how attached he was after a chance meeting, a handful of kisses, several obnoxious emails and a couple days of faking it. But, technically, Nik had known Aria for weeks now. If they were his parents, they’d already be married.

The ball hit him squarely in the thigh, bringing Nik back to the game with a jolt.

“Stop thinking about your girlfriend.” Varo grinned.

Nik snorted as he passed back. “You’re always thinking about yours.”

“Quietly, though. When you’ve got Aria on your mind, your thoughts might as well be a foghorn.”

Kieran chuckled. “He’s not wrong. You really like this girl.”

“I do. I really fucking do.” It wasn’t a lie, but an admission. It occurred to him that despite the secrecy around he and Aria, he could still ask his friends for advice about this. “Guys, how do you figure out... you know, feelings?”

The other men paused, the ball forgotten between them. They shared a look, their faces unreadable. And then, as if on cue, they both burst into laughter.

“What?” Nik demanded. “This is serious! I am ignorant! Help me!”

“Dios mio,” Varo wheezed, slapping his thigh—which, frankly, Nik thought was a bit much. “Oh, Nik. I really don’t know what to do with you.”

“I don’t know how you managed to catch her in the first place,” Kieran chuckled. “You’re so shit at this stuff.”

“I know I’m shit at this stuff,” Nik said. “I have no idea what I’m doing. I think I might—” he broke off, astonished at the words that had almost come out of his mouth. I think I might love her.

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