Page 51 of Fumbled Into Love

“Are you getting anything?” Nathalie’s head shifts slightly, her lips inches away from mine. Her eyes dart to my lips before she jolts back in her seat.

“I don’t think the nutrition specialists would be happy if I ate late-night McDonalds.” I look wistfully at the menu. While it would taste delicious, I’m not sure I want to face Addie on Monday and admit I ate fast food at one in the morning because my fake girlfriend wanted it, and I have a hard time saying no to her.

“How would they know?” She looks puzzled, and fuck, is it adorable with her Hobbit costume.

“I would tell them?”

“Why on Middle Earth would you do that?”

“It’s their job to make sure my nutrition is well-balanced. They can’t do that if I don’t tell them what I eat.”

Natalie holds out a finger and wags it back and forth.

“Rule number one, Deon Adams: Never, ever, rat yourself out.”

“I’m holding myself accountable.”

She rolls her eyes and crawls out of her seat to lean over through the driver's side window—again. Gordie protests with a startlingmeow.

“Could I get another ten-piece nugget, a large fry, a cheeseburger, and an Oreo Mcflurry? Oh, andpleasedon’t say your machine is down. There are two perished Hobbits in this car, and I may die if I don’t have an Oreo McFlurry. Thank you!”

I stare at her when she waves her hand to get me to pull forward. Nathalie hums to the music from the radio while we wait.

The college-aged worker slides the glass door open, handing over multiple brown paper bags, and the smell of grease fills the cab. I tap my card to pay, then begin to drive away when a single French fry disrupts my line of sight.

“Open up.”

“Huh?” I choke out while she waves the fry in front of my mouth like an airplane.

“Driving fry,” she amends, continuing to wave the potato. Hesitantly, I open my mouth, and she slides it between my lips. As I chew, her gaze lingers on my skin. “Drive fast; we must have supper before it gets cold.”

“Fuck, that was so good.”

I toss the empty McFlurry container onto the coffee table and lean back on the couch. I might regret this choice later, but right now, it's one of the best things I’ve evereaten.

“McDonald's tastes so much better after midnight. It’s a scientific fact.”

I laugh.

“Oh, is it?”

“Mhm.” Nathalie rises to throw away our trash, and I watch her, enamored, as she hums a tune around the kitchen.

She pulls her hair out of the braided buns she wore at the party, and as her fingers run through the loose strands, I realize she is by far the most marvelous human I’ve ever met. It makes me want to do something fucking idiotic, like drag her into my bed and show her what else is better after midnight.

She returns to the couch, and pure, uncontrollable lust takes control over my limbs. Before I can think better of it, I snatch her hand andyankher into my lap.

“What are you doing?” Nathalie croaks as her thighs straddle my hips.

I have no idea, only that I wanther.

Mustering up every ounce of courage I have, I ask, “Are you attracted to me?”

Her eyes animate, and the shock there is unmistakable before it morphs into something far clearer: lust.

I drag my thumb against the seam of her lips, and she gasps, arms falling to wrap around my shoulders. Her inner thigh grazes my cock as she shifts, and I hiss from the contact.

“Deon?” Her voice is questioning, but she doesn’t pull away. Instead, she presses her breasts against my chest, fingers dancing on the back of my neck.

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