Page 17 of Fake Hearts and Kisses

“I was just thinking about how bad I feel for Kane.”

Blake remains silent. I can only imagine what he thinks about what he just witnessed. But then again, who cares? I worked up the nerve to have a sexy, carefree weekend, and that is it. It’s not like I’ll see him again after this weekend, so what he thinks about my family has no merit in my life.

Blake and I follow my family and the noise to the dining room and sit quietly as Lily and Erin plan the details of the wedding. Even Amber has caught wedding fever, laughing with them. Blake tenses next to me, and I squeeze his hand. He looks over, his dark eyes searching my face. Someone says my name, and Lily and Erin laugh. I turn my attention back to the table.

“What?” I look at my family gathered around me as the laughter dies down. “What about me?”

“Forest asked if you were going to be a bridesmaid,” Lily says, brushing her hand over her chest. “And Erin was like, can you imagine her in a Vera Wang dress? She’d look like a starving ostrich.”

Erin cackles but quiets down when her eyes meet mine.

Blake squeezes my hand, abruptly standing from the table, his chair tilting as it slides back. He looks around the room as he pulls me from my seat. “I’ve lost my appetite.”

“It was just a joke,” Lily calls after us, which makes it even worse.

I let Blake guide me outside, sucking in a breath as the bitter cold hits my face. He was in such a hurry to leave we left our jackets in the lounge.

“The way they talk about you is disgusting.” His jaw clenches. When he realizes I’m shivering, he slides his sweater over his head and stops me in the path. “Arms out.”

I obey, holding my arms out toward him. He’s only in a t-shirt now that he’s sliding the sweater over my head. “You’re going to freeze.”

“I’ll be fine,” he says, taking my hand in his and pulling me down the path. Our breaths puff out, and I’m still shivering. I squeeze his icy hand, trying to warm it up.

When we reach the cabin, Blake locks the door, then leans against it, releasing a heavy sigh. “Are you okay?”

No?My sister excluded me from her wedding plans, then laughed when her best friend insulted me, and no one bothered to defend me. Not a single damn one of them.

Blake did, though. My fake boyfriend was the only person who came to my defense.

When I don’t answer, Blake grabs my arm and pulls me to him, wrapping me in a hug.Damn it.I hate that I still let Lily hurt me. Deep down, I know it’s not intentional, but somehow that’s just worse. She isn’t even considerate enough to realize she is hurtful. She isn’t caring enough to defend me against Erin, who can be just plain cruel.

“It’s my fault for letting it get to me,” I tell him. “She is who she is.”

“Has anyone considered that they are helping her become even more self-obsessed and callous by brushing off her behavior?” Blake walks to the fire and throws in a log. It takes a minute, but the fire gets going.

“Can we drop it?” I plop down in the chair where Blake sat last night. I lean back, pulling my legs to my chest. The sweater smells like him. Smokey and delicious. Clean mountainair and Blake. I breathe in deeply, resting my head on my knee, watching the fire.

“Yes.” Blake kneels in front of me, pulling my feet to the floor so he can slide between my legs. “But it pisses your fake boyfriend off when people insult my intelligent, capable pretend girlfriend, who’d look like a goddess in some stupid Wanger dress.”

“Wanger?” I can’t help it. I laugh loudly.

Blake grins. He’s being silly like this to make me feel better.

“I’m so lucky to have the best fake boyfriend,” I tell him, kissing his mouth lightly, scooting to the edge of the chair to press myself to him.

“I’ve wanted you all day.” His warm hands move over my back, weaving his fingers into my hair to drag me towards him. He licks the seam of my mouth, and I open for him. He kisses me greedily, like he has been waiting for this moment.

Blake pulls away, panting. “Wait, I have something for you.”

“What?” I ask, watching him pull his bag from the corner of the room and dig throughit.

He comes back, his hands behind his back, and kneels in front of me again. “What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t get you a gift for Valentine’s Day?”

“But I didn’t—”

He hushes me as he pulls a long black box from behind his back. “Open it.”

I eye him but take the box. Inside is a thin charm bracelet with a delicate heart and kiss charms. I pull out and look at the little charms with a stupid grin. He got me a gift? For Valentine’s Day?

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