Page 42 of Fumbled Into Love

I perk up, all thoughts of jackhammering and Declan and jealousy fading away at her curiosity about my label maker.

“You want to know about my label maker?” I ask, voice low. The muscles in my lower stomach clench, a soft buzz of pleasure coursing through my veins.

Why the fuck am I turned on at the prospect of showing her myBrother P-Touchlabel maker and printing labels together?

She pulls her lower lip between her teeth and nods. I’m lost in the warmth of her gaze when I hear a screech, followed by, “Now, Declan! While he’s distracted!”

I peer over Nathalie’s head, where Declan is half a foot away, gyrating his hips in an odd spinning motion.

“Well?” Nathalie asks, “Realistic or not?”

“This one isdefinitelyrealistic,” Sawyer says, popping a Cheez-It in her mouth. “It’s kinda hot,” she mumbles, and Nathalie cackles, sliding down my chest and stumbling onto the floor.

“You used my label maker as a distraction.”

There’s no use hiding my disappointment. I know it’s boring and nerdy, but I’m not used to someone caring about what brings me joy.

Nathalie’s face scrunches.

“No, I didn’t.” She sways, trying to put on her Converse’s. I lean down and slide on her shoes, quickly tying them. She holds my shoulder, and I force back the unwanted emotion clogging my throat. “I really do want to see the label maker.” She smiles conspiratorially. “It’s adorable.”

“Oh?”

I rub my chest to dispel the way her complement settles deeply in my chest.

“Yeah.” Her smile grows larger as she rapidly nods. “Can you teach me how to use your label maker after we do a puzzle? I want to label all of mythings.”

As I grab her bags and say goodbye to our friends, I shift the hard-on I’ve had all night, covertly trying to cover it withthe tote bags. Only when I spin, Declan is leaning against the counter, eyebrows raised.

I lift a brow, challenging him to say something.

Instead, he nods.

We don’t speak about this.

Not about the way we re-enacted a threesome.

And we most definitely will not discuss how I got a boner when my fake girlfriend mentioned her interest in my label maker.

CHAPTER 10

“I’m trying to stifle my sighs, cause I feel so high school every time I look at you”

So High School – Taylor Swift

Nathalie

“Are you going to share any of the nachos?” I ask, burrowing deeper into Maren’s jacket. It falls to my knees, but the warmth it provides is worth looking like a toddler who dressed themselves. The bitter October air beats against my cheeks, and not even the dense heat of the surrounding fans can chase away the chill.

“I didn’t plan on it,” Sawyer mutters between bites. “These are thebest yet.”

“You say that every time,” Maren chuckles as she steals a chip covered in the fake, gooey neon orange cheese and hands it to me. I shove it in my mouth, savoring the salty flavor.

Nachos taste a million times better at a football game.

I wonder if Deon likes nachos. I bet he would. He eats everything in sight.

In the two weeks we’ve lived together, I’ve learned a massive amount about Deon.

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