Page 48 of Rinkmates

Is God making fun of me?

We nearly throttled each other last week, even though we only saw each other for two days. I can’t imagine living with him for a whole week. One of us isn’t going to make it out alive.

“Yep,” he says, and then he draws a long breath. “And there’s more.”

“More?”

“We need to make it official. Nina reminded me it’s time we make a hard launch. On social media, I mean.”

I arch an eyebrow. “A post? Now?” I’m not sure I’m ready for this. I’ve already gotten so many texts and calls from magazines asking if it’s true that we’re a thing.

He shrugs. “It’s the next step. The rumors are out there already, but we need to sell this relationship, make it believable.”

I can’t argue with that. “Fine, let’s post a pic. Perfect timing since I’m wearing your jersey.”

He winces like something pains him. “Exactly.”

“What if we take a quick selfie? One of those sickeningly sweet ones where we gaze at each other and write something about twin flames finding each other?”

Riley snorts. “You mean like those perfect couples on Instagram who probably fight like cats and dogs behind closed doors? Yeah, that sounds like us.”

“Yep.”

He considers it for a moment, then nods. “All right, but you’d need to touch me for it.” He raises an eyebrow mockingly.

“I don’t have a problem touching you.”

“No? Every time we do, you look like you want to vomit.”

“Maybe I do, but that doesn’t mean I can’t push through and touch you.” I smile like it’s my war paint and place a hand on his chest, pretending it doesn’t make my stomach flip. “See?”

“Yeah, and if you keep touching me like that, people will think I’m your brother.”

“Ew.” I make a face. “How do you want it then, genius?”

He yanks me closer, his hands firmly on my waist, and I crash into his chest with a squeaky, unplanned yelp. For a second, I swear he leans in and— Wait, did he just sniff my hair?

Is he sniffing me? What the—

“Do you like how I smell?” I ask, half joking, half creeped out.

“Hmm, you smell like daddy issues,” he replies, looking way too pleased with himself, like he just solved a riddle only he cares about.

Jerk. “Yeah, well, that’s because I used your shower gel.”

I pull away, just enough to catch a glimpse of his face—grinning like he’s the first guy to ever tell a joke.

“Come on,” he teases, “I was just trying to loosen you up a bit. Now, quit frowning and look at me like I’m the center of your universe.”

I roll my eyes. Where on earth is he coming up with these lines? I frown at him, barely stifling a scoff.

“More like a solar eclipse. Briefly interesting, but mostly blinding and probably bad for my health,” I say.

“Oh yeah, I feel that love. It’s burning hot.”

I sigh and he positions his phone in front of us, the camera showing him grinning and me giving him a death glare. He snaps a photo. “We should post this. It reflects our personalities. Me, Prince Charming, and you, the dragon I need to fight.”

I smack him, and he takes another photo.

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