Page 48 of Make Me Want it Too

It’s not jealousy. I’m not jealous of Margot and her perfect complexion and round booty and that she is like the Barbie to Wood’s Ken—it’s the fact that he’s my fake boyfriend and she’s obviously flirting with him. She doesn’t know it’s fake. That’s what bothers me about it. Only that.

We do the cooldown stretches, and honestly, I think I nail them. Then Sharon thanks us and sends us off with wishes of being our best selves.

My best self is apparently scowling at Margot chatting with Wood as he’s rolling up his mat. He’s nodding and smiling at her, but then he turns, in the middle of whatever she’s saying, and smiles at me. He walks away from her, and to me.

She’s left confused and it feels oddly satisfying.

His face lights up as he makes his way to me, and that frenzied buzz of excitement starts in my belly, the same one from last night.

“Hey,” he says as he comes up to me. All the way up so our hips touch. He looks down at me as he puts his hand on my back. “I missed you,” he says.

“You did?” I’m on tiptoes, unconsciously trying to get closer to him.

He leans down and whispers in my ear, “Say you missed me, too.”

“Oh!” This is for the act, remember, Macy? “I missed you, too.”

He chuckles, head hanging down so that the sunlight rims the lines of his face, the edge of his jaw. His skin is glowing, and his lips look so nice and soft.

There’s a moment where it’s just us and the sound of our breathing and is he leaning in? Is his hand at my back pulling me in closer? Is he going to kiss me again?

I look up into his blue eyes and I think he’s going to. I want him to. I want him to kiss me.

“Get a room,” Spencer says under his breath as he walks by. I catch his sneer just before he passes.

“We have one, thanks. It comes with a bed!” Wood shouts, wrapping his arm around my waist and pulling me to his side. “I would have thought that’d be hard for you to forget.”

Spencer ignores us and keeps walking.

Wood turns to me, both arms wrapped around me now. “You’re doing really good at the looking, by the way.”

“The looking?”

“Yeah, looking at me like you want me. The practice must have helped.”

“Right, the practice. It definitely helped.”

I wasn’t even trying.

“What did you ever see in him? I never got you two.” Wood is buttoning up his navy shirt and I’m trying not to stare at his bare chest, or his hands.

“In Spencer? I don’t know. We had a lot in common.” Or so I’d thought. I finish applying my mascara in the mirror.

“In common? I’m sorry, but he’s a selfish asshole and you are a caring, giving sweetheart. I don’t see the commonality.”

I turn my back to him and pull my hair forward off my back. Without having to ask, he comes and zips my black sequined dress up, his knuckle brushing along my skin.

I look at him behind me in the mirror. “I was attracted to his intellect at first, I think. Why are you asking about this?”

“Is that why you picked him over me?”

“What are you talking about?”

“That first night, at the frat party. I went to go get you a drink and when I came back, you were talking to him.”

I laugh him off. “You say that like I had my pick between you two. Like you were both trying to get with me.”

He just looks at me in the mirror. “Of course I was.”

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