Page 36 of Counterfeit Boyfriend
Who knew you could have so much fun at a gas station? “I don’t know, but you sound like a super smart, upstanding gentleman to me.”
She snort-laughed, and I forced myself to keep the smile on my face. It was a good thing I was going to do the defending instead of the defendanting. Not that that was even a word, but if I was even a little guilty, I’d either confess or go out of my mind. When she’d jokingly called me a liar, liar, pants on fire and said the thing about taking advantage of my gullible girlfriend this morning, it sliced deep.
I was lying. Taking advantage, although I wouldn’t consider her gullible. Every time I wanted to just be in the moment, the extent of the web I’d spun wrapped another sticky strand around me. Soon, I’d be in even deeper.
But we were halfway to our destination and I was her ride. What was I supposed to do? Confess and leave us both miserable and/or stranded?
Not that I truly wanted to confess early, because I wanted to hold on to these moments before they were gone. I wanted to know more about her, too, but every time I asked a question, I worried I should know the answer.
What a fucking mess.
I’d blame my brother, yet I was the one here, and more than that, there was nowhere else I’d rather be.
I repeat, what a fucking mess.
Hazel eyes appeared as Gwen dipped her chin. “But in all seriousness, I do appreciate that you care so much about my allergy. Less appreciative of the deathtraps, but I guess no one’s perfect.”
She was. At this point, I’d almostliketo see a flaw—one besides trusting me. The lump of guilt in my gut turned to solid rock, but since it’d only make her sad if I went back to the sulky dude I’d been all morning, I shoved it away. I reached past her, retrieved a pair of hot pink sunglasses, and gently slipped them on her nose. “Try these. They’ll match your toenail polish.”
As far as I was concerned, they were the ones. Gwen studied her reflection, then spun on her heel and planted her lips on mine. I wrapped my hands around her hips and pulled her closer, adding a gentle bite to her full bottom lip, and then soothing the spot with a swipe of my tongue.
This was the real reason I was going to keep up the ruse, asshole move or not. Since she’d repeatedly remarked about how things were so different these past few days, I reasoned that she felt the same pull I did and used that to justify kissing her. Touching her. Wanting to take her to somewhere we could be alone and I could follow through on my promise to make her remember every single minute.
Apparently, I was a better at arguing my own case than I thought.
