Page 154 of The Faking Game

But none of that matters, because here I can pretend she’s mine.

“You’re hurt.” Nora undoes the buttons of my shirt. “It happened hours ago, and you’ve just been drinking and relaxing like you’re fine.”

“It’s just a scratch.”

“It’s not. Look at this! You bled through the shirt. Good thing it was navy, or you’d have lost your precious chip. That rule, by the way, is the most idiotic thing I’ve ever heard.”

“It’s supposed to stop us from getting hurt. Alex was very good at taking things to the extreme.” I pause for a moment. “It was James’s idea. Not the worst one he’s ever had.”

She pushes the fabric off my shoulders. “I want this off.”

“When did you become a nurse?”

“When I found myself surrounded by idiots,” she says. “You can’t go on and on about my safety when you ignore your own like this.”

Her hands on my shoulders feel good. There’s a pattern of freckles on her left thigh, like a constellation of stars. I want to trace them with my lips. “That’s different,” I say.

“No, it’s not.”

“Your safety and mine aren’t the same.”

“And why not? This needs disinfecting… And maybe stitches. But I’m not good enough for that.”

“You know how to sew.”

“Yes. With fabric. Not… God.” She reaches for something out of a cabinet, and I watch her long, bare legs. Wonder what they would feel like wrapped around my waist. “Here’s disinfectant and some gauze. You will sit perfectly still.”

My lip curves. “You’re bossy. I like it.”

She returns between my legs, and this time, I can’t help but grip her hips. She feels good beneath my hands. Firm curves, a steady thing to hold.

“I hope this stings,” she tells me. There’s something sharp against my shoulder, and I grit my teeth.

It smells like chlorine.

My hands grip the fabric on her hip. “What are you wearing?”

“A shirt.”

“I can see that. But it’s Alex’s shirt.”

“Yes. He lent it to me, but maybe I should go downstairs and give it back.” She leans back a little. “He said it was okay. Do you think he minded?”

“If he minded?” I reach for the hem. “I don’t give a fuck about him. I mind.”

She dabs at my shoulder. It stings like a motherfucker, but it’s nothing like the thread of jealousy that has my chest tight. Thinking about her with someone else, her with the bartender, her with Alex, her with future nameless men who won’t appreciate her the right way.

“I’m going to put some gauze on it and use some of the medical tape. But you need to get it looked at when we get back home.”

I pull the hem upward. “I will. If you take off this shirt.”

“You’re impossible.” She stretches her hands up and lets me pull it clean off her body.Fuck.She’s not naked beneath it, but almost. Nothing but a pair of navy blue panties. They’re lace, and they have that little pearl at the front elastic. Just like the ones she modeled.

I toss the shirt away. “Don’t wear his shirt.”

Nora runs a hand along the edge of my jaw. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re jealous. And I’d say you were jealous earlier too.”

“Maybe I am.” I lean forward to brush my mouth over her ribcage. Between her perfect tits. “Maybe I don’t like the idea of you using our lessons with someone else.”

---