Page 51 of The Enemy of My Enemy Is… My Fake Boyfriend?

His brows shot up. "Not really?"

I smiled. "Well, in sixth grade, I didn't realize that I was supposed to be exclusively doing my homework with Silas Jones, and then he accused me of cheating on him when I started meeting Eric Wainwright at the library."

"Pretty sure that doesn't count."

"You'll have to take that up with Silas because he still holds a grudge and reminds me of it every single time I run into him."

"Silas Jones. I know him actually. And we're going to have to have a little chat I see."

Of course he was joking, but something about the protective way he said it was such a turn-on. God, was I that desperate for any kind of green flag from a man?

No. I definitely wasn't. I didn'twantany man in my life. And I needed to remind myself that the whole reason for doing all of this was to get revenge on Chase and make him cry for what he'd done to me.

"Don't trouble yourself on my behalf," I said.

"It's no trouble, darling."

I rolled my eyes at the use of his favorite endearment, something about it sounding even more sarcastic to my ears than usual. "Why, thank you,darling."

The rest of our meal passed with easy conversation once I decided to ask Ethan more about his work. It was clear to see that he'd poured his heart and soul into getting BlackCode Solutions off the ground and hadn't had much time in his life for anything else.

I wanted to ask more about his personal life and his past relationships, but something held me back, maybe the idea that it would feel like I was prying. Or maybe it was that despite our current "dating" status, there was an invisible wall surrounding Ethan that I wasn't sure he'd let me past... which was okay. For our purposes, I didn't need to get past that.

Near the end of the evening, as we gathered our stuff and wandered toward the exit, I could have sworn more guests seemed to look our way, and I thought I heard a few furtive whispers. But of course I was just being paranoid. I hadn't recognized a single soul. Nobody knew us here, right?

Shaking off the weird vibes at the tail end of what had been a dreamlike evening, I continued holding onto Ethan's arm, not minding that part at all. He felt amazing under my hand, and even though I knew I was being a little pathetic, it somewhat satisfied that craving I had for physical touch with another human being. Kind of pitiful. And I'd never in a million years admit it to anyone else.

And I certainly didn't mind when he kept his arm around me in the car on the way back to the hotel, or that he held out a hand to help me from the car, offering his elbow once again for the journey through the ornate, elegant lobby into the elevator.

My mind whirled, wondering whether this was all just part of the show or if this was really how Ethan treated people. Never in my life had anyone—not my parents, not my sisters, and certainly not Chase or any other guy before him—been so caring with me in the small gestures, so much so that I didn't even realize until now that it'd been missing.

I thought about asking, but if I did, would he stop doing it? Would it become a thing that would disappear if spoken about?

For as long as we were faking being together, I'd simply enjoy this part of it. And keep it to myself how much I liked it.

"What's the smile for, babe?" Ethan asked as we strolled down the stately hallway.

Since no one was around, I began to pull my hand away from his arm, but Ethan apparently wasn't having it. Without saying a word, his bicep tightened, trapping my hand between his arm and body. Of course, I could have forced it out. But no way in heck was I going to do that.

"Just thinking about how everything went off without a hitch," I said as we finally broke apart to enter into our room.

And now we were faced with a new issue. The bed.

We'd already discussed it when we'd arrived and I'd spotted the large bed, Ethan explaining that it'd be pretty weird for usto have separate rooms or beds so that's why he'd reserved this room. He was right obviously, but him sleeping on the couch didn't seem fair to me. And his other idea of putting pillows down the middle didn't exactly fill me with confidence about the situation.

Last night on the plane, we'd been just fine, but there was a big difference between a large crevice and pillows that could easily be moved. Not that I thought Ethan would take advantage of me. I trusted him in that way.

To be honest, I didn't really trust myself. I liked to cuddle, and I always used to wake up wrapped around Chase who'd complain about being hot.So sorry if I was smothering you, asshole.

What did I ever see in him?

Ethan went first into the bathroom to get ready, taking all of two minutes to emerge. I eyed him from my spot in the small sitting area, taking in his exposed legs, their strength, their bulk, realizing that I'd never seen his actual legs before.

"Um, do you always sleep in a t-shirt and boxers?" I asked in a rush, trying to hide the fact that I had completely gawked at him.

He went to one side of the bed and tossed some pillows to the side. "No. I usually don't wear anything to bed."

"Oh."

---