Page 21 of Counterfeit Boyfriend
9Ethan
Okay,Imight’veinitiated the kiss at the top of the lighthouse. In my defense, Gwen just told me she wanted my hands on her—that’s how my turned-on brain chose to interpret it anyway.
It was something I couldn’t stop focusing on. Every glance, every smile, held this charged anticipation, and I wanted to explore the crazy chemistry between us some more. The instant my lips had met hers, my common sense went on vacation. Now I was trying to lure it back, even though I knew it’d tell me that I absolutely couldn’t sleep with her.
Eyes on the road,I thought, focusing on the feel of the steering wheel and the smooth way the Camaro handled.Try to think of something else.
Gwen stretched her legs up onto the dash.
My throat went dry.
Then she leaned her head back, her chest rising and falling, rising and falling. Having those curves pressed against me as I kissed her breathless at the top of that lighthouse made my Top Five Best Moments. The fact that graduating from law school and passing the Bar were two of the others was probably sad. All the time and energy those accomplishments took away from my personal life probably only fueled my lust fire.
Gwen sighed.
Nope. She was just that damn sexy. Her toenails were neon pink, too, another thing that was more distracting than I ever would’ve guessed. Don’t get me started on the delicate silver chain dangling from her ankle.
She glanced at me and did a double-take, and I thought I’d get called out for ogling her. “Is it okay that I put my feet up? I kicked off my shoes so they wouldn’t get the dash dirty.” She started to scoot backward. “Never mind, I wasn’t think—”
I placed my hand on her thigh and dragged my thumb over her smooth skin. “Keep them up there.”I like looking at your legs and thinking about having them wrapped around me.I shifted in my seat for what had to be the hundredth time since climbing in this car this morning.
“And you’re sure you don’t want me to drive for a while?”
“Nah, not yet. Just… talk. Your awful music might keep me awake, but I prefer stories as opposed to tunes that’ll make my ears bleed.”
She shot me a dirty look that was far too cute to be scary. Then she twisted a strand of hair around her finger and peered up at the ceiling, as if she expected to find inspiration there. “I’m having a hard time thinking of something to talk about.”
“You? Speechless?”
She shoved my arm but smiled, which was my goal in the first place. I’d never get tired of her beautiful, infectious smile. Or those ridiculously cute dimples.
Not that I’d get the chance to get tired of the smile or her dimples, or her in general. I should be glad we’d successfully put several hours of the trip behind us, but every one sent us closer to the last, and I knew that at the end of this trip, I’d only want more.
Don’t think about that.
My gaze ran down her legs again.Don’t think about those, either.
When it came to Gwen, no place was safe for my eyes.
She raised an eyebrow. “What about you? We haven’t talked about you very much this trip.”
“But I already know about me.”
“Apparently, I don’t. For instance, I had no idea you were afraid of heights.”
“Plummeting to my death, you mean. ‘Afraid of heights’ sounds too wussy.”
She laughed. “Okay, okay. Afraid of death—not very original, but totally valid. Any other fears I should know about?”
I’m afraid you’ll find out that I’m not my brother, and then you’ll hate me forever.
I’m afraid that after this, no other girl will measure up.
Not only no other girl, but life in general. Being with her was the most alive I’d felt in years. Every one of those revealed more than I could say, so I searched for something a bit lighter yet still true—I wanted to give her as much of the truth as I could. “Not a big fan of thinking about failure, but who is?”
“Can’t claim I’m not afraid of failure. When I started college, the goal was to become a corporate controller, financial analysis manager, or accounting director for some huge company and make a lot of money. I pictured myself wearing power suits and climbing to the top of the corporate ladder. Since my life isn’t how I imagined it, sometimes I wonder if I’ve failed, but I love my job. I love the people and the animals, and I’m good at it. So naturally, my brain tosses other worrying thoughts at me, so I can feel like I failed at them.”
“It’s sad how easy it is to think of the bad, and how hard it is to remember the good we do.” Throughout school, every B or C grated at me, getting way more weight than the dozens of As on my transcripts. I tended to beat myself up if I couldn’t recall facts in an instant and had to look them up.
