Page 37 of The Fake Boyfriend Fiasco

“Not with them. But you’re hungry, aren’t you?”

Well, yeah. She usually was. And she certainly wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of asking for sex again.

Especially not when something in the tightly coiled muscles of his shoulders, the dangerous gleam in his eyes, told her she’d get what she wanted eventually.

After dinner, she supposed.

“Fine,” Aria allowed, dragging herself out of bed. “I’m gonna shower.”

“Leave the door open.”

She stopped in her tracks, turning to him with a blink. “Why?”

“I know you want to come, Ri. But you won’t be. Not until I say so.” He rifled through his shirts in the wardrobe as he spoke, his tone casual. “So, leave the door open. If I catch you misbehaving, there’ll be consequences.”

His voice flooded her body with desperate lust, need pooling low in her belly. Still, Aria kept her voice steady as she said, “Consequences?”

He looked over his shoulder. “Should I spell it out for you, agapi mou?”

“No,” she muttered, hurrying off to the shower. She was already horny enough, thanks very much.

Chapter 8

The Greek Thing

Nik took Aria to the best restaurant he knew and wondered why the food tasted like dust in his mouth.

Probably because it wasn’t her. Wasn’t her skin, sweet and sharp like cinnamon. Wasn’t her mouth, soft and inviting. Wasn’t her cunt, whose scent was practically imprinted on his brain despite how many hours had passed since he’d made her come.

He might have avoided those sorts of thoughts—and thus avoided getting hard in a five-star restaurant—if Aria hadn’t spent the entire meal moaning over every mouthful she swallowed. She gasped as she licked creamy dessert off her spoon; batted her eyelashes every time she looked at him; said his name almost as breathlessly as she did when she came. She was doing it on purpose. Which just made it hotter.

“So, what are you going to do now?” she asked, trailing her fingertips over the stem of her wineglass. She’d had it filled with water because “If I drink anymore this week, my kidneys might shank me.”

Nick tore his attention away from the glide of her fingers over glass. “Do?”

“Instead of football,” she said slowly, which reminded him that before the movement of her hands had hypnotised him, they’d been discussing his profession.

“Ah. Right. Well, that’s the question, isn’t it?”

She arched a brow. “You don’t have any ideas?”

“No,” he said, both entirely honest and slightly pathetic. “I, um… I’m not really good at anything else.”

He wasn’t expecting those words to produce such an outraged expression from Aria. She looked personally offended. “What on earth are you taking about? Yes, you bloody are!”

Even though she was wrong, his heart swelled, a smile curving his lips. “You think?”

“Oh, come on. You know you are.” She gave him a suspicious look, as if this were all part of some ploy. Like he was fishing for compliments, or something. But after a moment, she seemed to realise that he was deadly serious.

“I told you before,” Nik said. “My life has been easy. Football is my only skill and I was lucky enough to be able to pursue it.” He shrugged. “I don’t know what I’ll do next. I’m working on it. It’s just taking me a while because every time I try to think about the future, I freeze. I can’t see anything.” Except you. I see you like a light in the dark.

“Ah.” She nodded slowly. “Well, that’s totally understandable. Your career just ended abruptly. You’ve lost your passion. But you’re amazing, Nik. There are a thousand things you could do, related to football or otherwise—you’re the most determined person I’ve ever met. You can do anything. Anything. So, don’t pressure yourself, don’t overthink it, just… take some time to acclimatise. Let yourself breathe. Okay?”

He managed to force out some sort of agreement, even though emotion clogged his throat. She hadn’t said anything that he didn’t know already. But he only knew it logically; the words had never sunk into his bones before. To have Aria, the person he trusted most in the world, tell him that it was okay? That he could handle this? That he’d be alright?

A tension Nik hadn’t realised he’d been carrying drifted away. He felt suddenly lighter, stronger, more like himself, than he had for weeks. She moved the conversation on, the sound of her voice soothing him even though he couldn’t discern the words. He was thinking too hard. He was considering a new approach, a new plan, a new way to become the person he wanted to be.

Eventually, his whirring thoughts stilled. He didn’t need to work on this now. He had time. Everything would be fine. Aria had said so.

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