Page 59 of Make Me Want it Too

He shifts on the bed to face me more. “When we came back to the room, you did try to seduce me.”

“I did?” I think I’ve stopped breathing. It keeps getting worse.

“Well, that’s what you said you were doing. I didn’t realize that’s what was happening.”

“You didn’t realize? I was that bad at it?” I bury my face in my hands.

I want to die. Smother myself with a pillow. I haven’t breathed in several seconds. Maybe I can just keel over and be done with it.

“Mace, no.” He peels my hands away from my face and holds them in my lap.

Wood smiles at me with his beautiful teeth and his pretty eyes and perfect tan skin and I want to disappear. The only bright side is I don’t remember making a fool of myself last night.

“I didn’t catch on because I’m an idiot, and I didn’t think it was even in the realm of possibility.”

Of course he doesn’t see me as an object of sexual desire. We’re friends, so I suppose it’s okay. Comforting, even if disappointing. I hadn’t thought about having sex with Wood, either. Until very recently.

“I wouldn’t have let anything happen between us last night,” he continues.

Oh. Don’t have to rub it in.

“Because you were drunk. That makes consenting kind of iffy. It’s a dealbreaker for me. Otherwise, I would have been down.”

For the first time, I meet his eyes. “Wait—you would have?”

“Yeah. Why not?” He says it so nonchalantly, I don’t think he understands the flip my stomach just did.

“Good thing I was drunk then,” I laugh nervously. “It would have been a mistake, and the rest of the week would have been awkward.”

“Would it?” He holds eye contact, his question sincere.

I think back to the way he kissed me the other night and now I’m thinking maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad idea to do a bit more. A lot more.

“I don’t know,” I say.

“I don’t think it’d be awkward. You haven’t been properly fucked in at least six years. I know that for sure. I could fix that if you want. Let me make it up to you.”

My cheeks heat. Is he saying what I think he’s saying?

“Just for this week,” he says. “I’m your pretend boyfriend. Everyone thinks we’re together anyway. Why not have some extra fun? It doesn’t have to be all fake. We’re adults. There’s no reason we can’t if we want to.”

“If we want to…have sex?”

“I’m not even talking about penetrative sex. Let me make you feel good. I’ll make you come every night. It’ll be all about you.”

“I—” My throat is closing up. I don’t know what to say. I swallow. Hard.

“You don’t have to decide right now.” Wood pats my knee and gets up from the bed. “Think about it, take all the time you want. I’m going to let you get some more rest. Should I send some food up for you soon?”

I nod. Still unable to speak through the lump in my throat.

“You good? Need anything else before I go?”

I shake my head no, my eyes rolling up to follow his movement as he leans in and presses his lips softly to my forehead.

“Rest up,” he whispers, and then, with a light squeeze of my shoulder, he turns and leaves, giving me a grin big enough to show a dimple just before he latches the door shut.

What the heck just happened?

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