Page 49 of Faking It with the Forward

Oh, he’s remembering correctly.

I’d pretty much mauled him after he flipped me onto his lap.Hewas the one that stopped. Not me.

Giving him my hand, because there’s no way I can stand up in this mess on my own, I let Reese help me off the floor. He lifts me easily, but my foot slips on the packets. I don’t fall because he’s got his hands on me, holding me steady. We’re chest to chest in the tiny space and he’s clean from the shower and smells intoxicating.

“Are you okay?” he asks, pushing a loose strand of hair behind my ear.

“I’m fine,” I say looking past his muscular arms at the mess I made. “According to Coach Green, the closet is an abomination and needs to be rearrangedimmediately. I heard Bryant going off on you, too.” Which is really unfair after the amazing game they had the day before. “I have no idea what got the coaching staff riled up today, but they’re taking no prisoners.”

“Preseason makes everyone nervous. Especially when the team’s clicking. There’s more on the line—more to lose.” He looks down at me, his gray eyes inquisitive. “How about you? Am I making you nervous?”

The implication is clear. We were clicking last night.Hard.

“Will you make fun of me if I say yes?”

“No,” one of his hands flattens on my back, drawing me closer, “because you make me fucking nervous too.”

“I do not.” I never know when Reese is being serious or just obnoxious, but there’s no world in this universe where I make Reese Cain nervous.

“You do,” he argues. “I woke up and found no half-naked girl in my bed this morning. Then I texted the last girl that wasinmy bed, to see if we were good and she didn’t answer the question.” He swallows, and I’m mesmerized by the movement. How delicate his features can be when he’s so incredibly strong. “I’ve been convinced all day that I fucked something up and I really don’t want to fuck this up.”

Right. Because he let his libido get mixed up in our deal.

“We’re fine,” I tell him, bending to start cleaning up the colossal mess I made. He shifts to help me, and together we’re squeezed in the tight space on the floor tossing packets back into the box. “I told you, I got up early and wanted to try to catch Nadia.”

He grabs a handful of wipes, and eyes me, like he thinks I’m lying. Which, fair, that’s definitely not the only reason I left. I was in Reese Cain’s bed, and I’d been grinding on his very hard erection.

Not a good look for a fake girlfriend.

Remembering my place, I ask, “So how’s it going with Shanna anyway, heard anything from her?”

Saying her name draws a grimace. “No, thank goodness. I think she got the message.”

“Good.” I focus on cleaning up and not the way my chest tightens. If Shanna’s out of the picture, then we can wrap this sham up sooner than later and that’s probably what he wants. He can get back to his non-committal one-night stands and fulfill puck bunny dreams everywhere.

“It is good,” he says with a sense of relief, “but I feel like maybe I haven’t done enough to help you with your end of the bargain.”

“In what way?”

“Well, we’ve been to a hockey bar, and you absolutely obliterated everyone last night at quarters, but those are with guys from the team—no one you’re interested in actually dating.”

“True.”

“We need to find a place where you can find a variety of guys, learn how to talk to them, get flirty, show them how amazing you are.”

“Did you just say ‘get flirty?’” I snort and glance over at him. His face is inches away, those gray eyes earnest and sincere.

“Face it, Sunshine, your flirting needs a little work.” He scoops up the last of the packets in one hand and dumps them into the box. He tucks the box under one arm and again offers me his free hand to help me off the floor.

“And you have an idea of where we can do this?” I ask skeptically.

He grins, bright enough to light up the room. “I know just the place.”

* * *

I have six missed calls when I finally open my phone, all from my sister. After helping me straighten up the mess in the supply closet, Reese invited me to dinner with him and the guys. I begged off, citing a long day and a pile of homework to tackle. The truth is that standing in that tiny storage closet and inhaling his addictive scent made me question my sanity.

There’s no other reason I would agree to let him take me somewhere to “get flirty.”

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