Page 18 of Faking It with My Bossy Ex

Her eyes follow mine to the ceiling, and her cheeks burn so red they might burst into flames. A little sprig of mistletoe hangs from a red ribbon right in the arch above us.

“Tradition says we’re supposed to kiss.” I murmur, a small smile playing on my lips. It's a joke, mostly, but part of me can't help wondering …

She yanks her hand out of mine and plants both palms on my chest, giving me a sturdy shove, separating us by a couple of feet.

“Not a chance.” She stalks into the room and starts gathering up the rose petals, shoving them into a little trash can nearby with too much vigor for my taste. “Are you going to help me with this?”

“I thought they were pretty nice. They really set the mood.” I lean against the entryway, stuffing my cold hands into my pockets. This moment transports me back to when we were together. I’d planned stays like this for our honeymoon, when Ifinally would get my gumption up enough to ask her. Man, we had so many plans and now …

She finishes with the rest of the petals and turns toward me, pulling me from my thoughts. Is all of that too late? Is there a way we could find ourselves back where we left off?

“This could be fun, you know, pretending to be a couple for the next week.”

Her features are hard to read. She stops right in front of me and crosses her arms over her chest. The way her lips part and her eyes linger on mine for a moment too long … Maybe she’s not as opposed to the idea as she thinks she is. My attention goes back to her pouting lips. So kissable.

“Fun? This is only out of necessity. If I don’t find a place to stay tomorrow, and that’s a big if, I might consider it, but there are going to be some ground rules.”

“Ground rules?” This just got interesting. I didn’t really expect her to go along with fake dating for much longer.

“Yes, ground rules. Like, for one, no touching, hugging, kissing, or any other couple’s stuff.” She doesn’t budge.

“We won’t make a very convincing couple if we don’t do any couple stuff.” I shrug. “It’s going to have to happen at some point.” I’m looking forward to that. I miss the feel of her up close to me, the smell of her hair, the feel of her lips against mine …

“Okay, fine. None of that stuff unless it is absolutely necessary to make someone think we’re dating, assuming it’s even necessary for us to keep this up past tomorrow.” She draws in a quick breath. “Second, remember that this is all fake just so we can have a place to stay.”

“Fine, sounds fair.” I’m still stuck on that first rule and already cooking up scenarios where potentially bending the rules could be an option.

The more I’m around Amy, the more I crave it. The more I can’t let go of her. Could she ever want the same thing? She’s back from Europe, she’s followed her dreams, so is there a possibility that there could still be a future for us?

I haven't earned that right yet.

I’ll settle for a fake relationship for the moment if it means I get to be close to her again. Maybe it’s exactly what I need to set things right.

“Third rule, I get to add more rules if I feel like it’s necessary.”

“Can I add any?”

“Like what?” She narrows her eyes.

“For example, one practice kiss. Just to be … prepared.” I step closer, just enough to see her pulse flicker at her neck.

She inhales sharply. Her eyes drop to my lips, then snap back up. The heat radiating between us. That familiar blush spreads up her neck, that same one that used to drive me crazy.

“Absolutely not,” her voice wavers ever so slightly.

I lean in slowly, giving her the chance to back off. Lavender hits me first. Her shampoo hasn't changed. My thumb brushes her cheek. She shivers under my touch, but she holds my gaze, not backing down.

“Keep dreaming,” she murmurs, but her voice is softer, almost daring me.

“You sure about that?” I tilt my head, fighting back a grin.

Her lips part just slightly, and everything in me goes tense—until a loud knock sends us crashing back to reality.

“You can have the first shower while I see who is at the door.” Amy steps past me, her shoulder bumping into mine as she goes. The mistletoe still hangs in the archway, looking a bit dejected at not having worked.

“I agree, buddy,” I lament sadly as I head to the bathroom. Considering the day I’ve had, a shower sounds great.

I head to the bathroom, half listening as Amy greets someone at the door. Something about extra blankets and pillows. She’s planning on bunkering down on the couch?

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