Page 45 of The Fake Boyfriend Fiasco

Fraternising With the Enemy

Nik had never been high before, but he was absolutely certain that this was what it felt like. He wasn’t dreading the end of the week anymore, counting precious seconds until the moment when Aria walked away from him. By the penultimate day of the party, he’d convinced himself that Aria couldn’t walk away from him. She was the one, after all, who’d said that they should be together. She was the one who dragged him into unoccupied rooms to fool around all the time; she was the one who curled up in his arms before falling asleep; she was the one who listened to his tentative ideas about the next step in his career and didn’t shoot any of them down.

Funny how the transition from a fake relationship to a very real one had gone so smoothly. He almost felt like they’d never been faking in the first place—which, technically, they hadn’t. Or rather, he hadn’t. Really, this was all just a very long and expensive first date, a funny story they could tell their grandchildren one day. At least, that’s how Nik was choosing to think of it. He really hoped Aria would see it that way too, because he’d decided to come clean about everything tonight.

He supposed some people might argue that he had nothing to come clean about. After all, he hadn’t lied about himself or his circumstances. He was bad at turning people down. He didn’t want to sleep with anyone else. And she did have to scare off overzealous fans for him.

So maybe he could keep his slight dishonesty to himself—except he didn’t want to do that. He didn’t want to bite his tongue or remember his own bullshit. He didn’t want to hide the fact that he’d wanted her from the moment he saw her. And, most of all, he didn’t want to abuse Aria’s trust.

It seemed pretty fragile. And it was definitely precious.

Of course, he was having a tough time figuring out how to tell her. In fact, pondering that question that made him so distracted, his team actually lost an impromptu five-a-side game on the afternoon before their last day.

“What’s up with you?” Kieran demanded with a breathless laugh as they jogged over the grass. “You let Varo past you about a thousand times!”

“Sorry.” Nik scowled. “I did, didn’t I? I’m just… thinking about stuff.”

Kieran rolled his eyes. “You think too much these days. It’s not like you.”

True. But he was trying to be more thoughtful because certain people in his life deserved it. Nik’s gaze drifted over to the seats arranged at the edge of the grass, where Aria sat by a group who were all huddled over a single phone. Whatever they were doing, it apparently didn’t interest her.

She was watching him.

And she had that sketchbook in her hands, as always, the one full of all her tattoo ideas. Sometimes, at the end of the day, she’d show him everything she’d done and start talking a mile a minute about her plans for the future, her vision for the shop, how she didn’t even know what to call it…

“Hey,” he shouted over. “You checking me out?”

She gave him a smirk and shouted back, “I’m wondering how the hell you ever made it if you play like that.”

Cheers and hoots of laughter followed her words. Nik couldn’t help but grin, even though he usually hated losing. If anyone else had needled him, he’d have been pissed. But right now, he was more enthusiastic about playing than he’d been for the last hour, just because he wanted to wipe that cocky look off her face.

“You don’t know anything about football,” he reminded her, walking across the grass. “You can’t judge me.”

“Sure, I can. I’m smart. I pick things up fast.”

Nik reached her chair and planted a hand on each arm, locking her into place. As he leaned close, her lashes fluttered and the humour in her eyes became a challenge. He felt an answering tingle in his core, his muscles tightening at their proximity. The possessive beast inside him woke up and pointed out that now would be a great time to drag her into the nearest empty room with a lock.

But he’d already fucked her three times in the past eight hours, and he was trying not to be a complete pest. So, instead of throwing her over his shoulder, Nik darted forward to steal a quick, sweet kiss before straightening up. “Come and play, then. If you’re such an expert.”

Her eyes widened, amusement replaced by alarm. “Oh, no, I—”

“Go on, Aria!” G beamed. “It’ll be fun! We should all play!” She gave a little gasp and slapped her hands to her cheeks. “Girls versus boys!”

“What?” Aria squeaked. “No. Nooo. I’ve never even played before! And the guys are all pros!”

“So am I,” Georgia said.

Aria blinked, her face taking on that adorably baffled look he loved so much. “What?”

“Didn’t you know? Most of us are. And everyone knows women’s football is way better than men’s.” She stood with a wink, stretching her arms above her head, and hollered, “Five-a-side, guys! Lads v. lasses.”

Nik stepped back and watched with a shit-eating grin as Georgia grabbed a protesting Aria and dragged her towards the pitch.

The afternoon had just gotten a hell of a lot more interesting.

* * *

Clearly, Aria’s life had gone horribly wrong somewhere along the line. Because if all was running smoothly, she definitely wouldn’t be sweating her tits off in a Spanish garden, trying—and failing—to keep up with a bunch of professional football players.

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