Page 67 of Surprisingly Us

“Back there. With Sebastian? You were being rude.”

“Rude?” He scoffs. “I wasn’t the one with my hands all over someone else’s girlfriend.”

My brows lift. “All that because he was giving me a massage? Sebastian’s my friend. We’ve been dancing together for years.”

I laugh, but Rhys doesn’t look amused. It’s preposterous to think there would be anything between me and Sebastian. He’s like a brother to me, supportive and fiercely loyal.

He stops suddenly, turning to face me.

“I didn’t like seeing his hands on you. No boyfriend would want to see that.”

“Not even a fake one?” I ask, trying to lighten the mood.

His jaw stays set like it was cast in stone.

“Besides, that was nothing. When we’re dancing, his hands are all over me.”

I mean for it to be comforting. To prove that Sebastian and I are comfortable with each other from being in one another’s personal space all the time, but as Rhys’s gaze narrows, and his eyes darken, I realize that he didn’t find my comment reassuring at all.

Oops.

A deep rumble escapes from Rhys’s throat.

Wait. Was that…agrowl?

Oh my god. It was. Rhysjustgrowled.

I’ll have to tell Chloe and the other ladies.

I’m thinking about what they’re going to say about this when I notice Rhys’s hardened gaze is still pinning me into place. This time there’s no conspiratorial smirk or knowing wink.

Wow. Rhys is really committed to playing the part of jealous boyfriend here.

Hmm, I wonder what arealgirlfriend would do in this situation?

I’m thinking she’d try to comfort her boyfriend, make him feel appreciated and wanted. The thought of making Rhys feel that way does something funny to me.

I wrap my arms around his neck. With that singular move, his jaw eases, so I know it’s a good start.

His scent surrounds me, warm and spicy with a hint of pine, like a hot summer day at the lake.

My eyes zero in on his lips. They’re still in a flat line, but the pronounced dip in the middle of his upper lip gives him a pouty appearance. It’s one of my favorite things about his mouth.

Is that weird? To have a favorite thing about your fake boyfriend’s mouth? Especially since I’ve never felt it?

That leads to a whole slew of questions.

Should I kiss him? Does he want me to? This is technically public, right? Will he think it’s part of the arrangement or just because I wanted to? Do I care?

While I’m analyzing, Rhys’s hands move to wrap tightly around my waist. It’s such a simple movement, yet when he puts his hands on my body, it feels possessive, like he’s claiming me.

Arousal blooms in my core, and it scatters all the overthinking thoughts.

“Does this make it better?” I whisper, before lifting onto my toes to deliver a soft kiss to his lips.

It’s a sweet kiss. A peck.

When I pull back, I find that the clenched muscle in Rhys’s jaw has softened.

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