Page 38 of Fumbled Into Love

If I sit down, she might leave without me.

“Ready,” I yell, frightening Gordie, who darts down the hallway and out of sight.

Nathalie shakes her head as she bites her lip, and I don’t even care I’m acting like a lunatic. I am not going to waste any opportunity to spend time with her, even if it’s with all of her girlfriends and Declan, because I’m greedy for every second she offers me. Laughter comes easily, and with her, my mind is clearer.

Nathalie parks, and I help her collect the multiple bags she shoved into the back of her messy car. As she passes, my hand grazes her lower back, and she pauses, leaning into the touch before darting away.

My hand tingles as we enter Maren and Jack’s home, Nathalie leading us into the kitchen, where Sawyer and Maren whisper around the kitchen island.

Maren notices my presence, and a handful of emotions flicker over her face. First confusion, then recognition, and finally glee.

“You brought Deon,” Maren states, taking Nathalie’s bags.

“I hope that’s okay…” Nathalie trails off, head whipping over her shoulder to look at me. I drag my hand along her bicep as I pass, hoping it banishes her worried look.

I could give two shits if Maren doesn’t want me here. Nathalie does, and that’s what matters.

“It’s perfect!” Maren says with a devilish grin. “We needed another man to test the validity of that one sex scene. Deon can give his input.”

I can…what?” I choke out, looking to my fake girlfriend for an explanation. Nathalie’s eyes grow behind her glasses, and instead of answering, she cracks open a seltzer and chugs.

“Welcome to Book Club,” Sawyer says, handing me a drink. “You’re going to need this.”

I lean back, sparkly sheet mask on my face and a drink in my hand, as Nathalie, Maren, and Sawyer scribble notes on a massive rolling whiteboard to debate who the main character is going to choose at the end of the book: the rogue prince with questionable morals, the bright-eyed apprentice with a dirtymouth in bed or the ruler of the shadow realm who’s holding the character hostage.

Personally, the second one is a logical choice to me, but there are a lot of bullet points beneath who Nathalie keeps referring to as ‘shadow daddy,’ so maybe there’s something I’m missing.

“Are they always like this?”

Declan huffs, a pink sheet mask on his face.

“This is pretty tame,” he says, popping a gummy bear into his mouth and extending the bag. I snatch a few, and he continues. “Nathalie and Maren tried to act out a fight scene once, and both ended up with bruises.”

Nathalie spins at the sound of her name, and when our eyes lock, her smile blooms and firecrackers explode in my chest. She skips over, stopping to stand between my outstretched legs, looking down at Declan and me on the floor.

“Are you two talking about me?”

“No,” I say.

“Yes,” Declan responds at the same time. My arm darts out, and I smack his chest. “Shit, that hurt.”

“The code, man.”

“Oh, right.” He looks at Nathalie. “No, we weren’t talking about you.”

Nathalie’s eyes narrow, and she wobbles, tumbling toward me. My arms dart out, grabbing her hips to steady her as her hand lands on my shoulder.

The blood drains from my face as my gaze levels with Nathalie’s pelvis.I squeeze my eyes shut, but the dirty thoughts fill my mind until I have to force air into my lungs. Nathalie giggles, and the sound is a shot of serotonin.

Her hands leave my shoulders, and I make the mistake of opening my eyes. Nathalie gives me a beautiful, drunken smile.

“I think I’m a little tipsy,” she whispers, and Declan barks out a boisterous laugh.

“You’ve had six seltzers. You’re riding a fine line between tipsy and drunk,” Declan says.

Nathalie sticks out her tongue at Declan but focuses on me.

“I don’t always get tipsy,” she says, slightly swaying.

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