Page 63 of Once Upon a Fake Date

“I’ve missed you,” I admitted, wrapping my arms around his waist as we walked inside.

“She finally admits it,” Parker said with a grin, pulling me in tight and pressing his lips against the crown of my head. I liked how we fit together like that—how if he stood behind me, he could wrap me up and tuck me under his chin completely. “You saw me earlier, though.”

I hummed in response, enjoying his body heat.

“Let’s go.” Instead of heading into the kitchen like I expected, he headed for the stairs, tugging me up behind him.

“Oh,” I squealed.

“What?” Parker looked back at me.

“Nothing, I just…” Somehow, going into his room with just the two of us now felt incrediblyreal.Before, this was fake. Now… I wondered if maybe we were going to pick up where we left off earlier on the lacrosse field.

He interlaced our fingers and marched me up to his bedroom, and I decided I liked this Parker. A little bossy, but still undeniably sweet. And I really wanted more of the dominant Parker. Because I trusted him wholly, implicitly. I knew he wouldn’t hurt me. That he cared aboutme.When he bossed me around, all it did was make heat pool in my stomach.

Thoughts I shouldnotbe having right now. Even if the way he’d kissed me earlier set every nerve in my body on fire. When he brushed his hand against mine, it felt like fireworks exploded on my skin.

His bedroom door closed behind us, and I looked around, anywhere but at him. I’d been in his bedroom dozens of times before, but it had never felt like this—like the energy in the room wascharged. Like if I looked at him, at his lips, I was going to do something I would regret.

“So…” I started, trailing off when Parker walked to his desk, holding up a bag of food.

His cheeks were warm. “I wasn’t sure if you had eaten dinner, so I ordered Chinese. Hopefully that’s okay?”

Okay? That was more than okay. I blinked rapidly, trying to get rid of the moisture pooling in my eyes, as if anything could stop them now.

“Fuck.” He stepped closer, cupping my cheek. “Are you okay? Rosie Girl, I didn’t…”

I shook my head. “No, it’s not that. It’s great, actually. I—I’ve never had anyone take care of me. Not like this. I just…”

Parker wiped under my eyes with his thumbs. “I’ve got you, baby.”

I was starting to realize that. It was the little things with him—I didn’t have to ask him for help, because he was there before I even could. He knew how I liked my sandwiches, how I took my coffee. Somehow, he anticipated my thoughts and needs before I did. And he always put my needs before his own.

No one had ever treated me like this. Like I was something special.

And he was just myfakeboyfriend.

My chest was warm, those butterflies at full force as I pressed my cheek against his chest. “Thank you,” I mumbled. “You’re too good to me.” I couldn’t address the elephant in the room. That this felt a lot like we were actually dating. Because I was worried if I did, it would break the spell. And I wanted to be here—in his arms, in his room, wearing his shirt. I wanted to be the girl on the sidelines with fifty-nine painted on my cheek, screaming for the first boy who’d ever had my heart.

“You deserve nothing less than everything, Audrey.”

I looked down at my feet, trying to hide my blush.

“Let’s eat,” Parker said, guiding me onto his bed.

I ran my hands over his comforter, the soft gray fabric comforting against my skin. In all the time we’d spent together, I’d never thought about it before. How comfortable I was in his room, laid out across his bed like I belonged there. Heat flared in between my thighs as I thought about him joining me. How it would feel if we’d continued that kiss from earlier, with him between my thighs and?—

Parker made a sound in the back of his throat.

“Don’t look at me like that, Rosie,” he murmured, his voice low. A shiver ran through me. Fuck, did that turn me on?Yes.I was surrounded by his scent—his comforting, soothing scent, and I wanted to get lost in it. Inhim.

I just stared at him as he opened up a box of sweet and sour pork and shoveled some onto a plate, adding white rice and noodles before handing it to me. “Here.” His eyes were filled with heat as I took the plate from him. “Eat,” he murmured. “Then we can go downstairs and hang out with everyone else.”

But what if I didn’t want to go back downstairs?

What if I asked him to kiss me again? To really kiss me. Not as something fake—but as something real?

Shoveling in a bite of food to stop myself from asking the stupid questions, I couldn’t hold back my moan at the tangy and delicious flavor as it exploded in my mouth. The chicken was perfect: tender, soft and juicy, and I closed my eyes, savoring it.

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