Page 15 of Fake Dating Adrian Hunter
“Did you ever consider that maybeIwant to dance with someone?” I shout.
Their eyes scan over me in my underwear, and I see the exact moment their noses turn upward with judgment. Adrian steps in front of me, shielding me from their view. The next thing I know, I’m on the ground, retching from the alcohol.
“Oh my,” Stacy says. “Yes, I read that the breakup turned her into an alcoholic.”
Adrian kneels beside me, sweeping my hair back from my face. “Verena, put your clothes on,” he says at the first break in my heaving while pulling me up to my feet.
“Too difficult,” I mutter, wobbling with shaky knees. He lets go of me for a second to grab my dress, and I land ass-first on the sand.
“Raise your arms and I’ll slide the dress over your head.”
“No. Go away.” I swat his hands from me, squirming in the sand as he tries to dress me. “I can take care of myself.”
“Adrian, is that you?” Another new voice, because apparently having the bridal party witness this moment isn’t punishment enough.
“Shit. Our moms,” Adrian says to me. “They’re bringing a crowd with them. Verena, come on, raise your arms.”
“No.”
Adrian swears, then unbuttons his own shirt and wraps it around my shoulders.
“Adrian, stop! I don’t want your shirt on me. I hate you.”
All of that pettiness flies out the window the instant I catch sight of Jake approaching in the distance, and suddenly I’m shrieking at the top of my lungs.
“What has gotten into you?” Adrian wrestles my arms through the sleeves of his shirt, but I wriggle free of the fabric.
“Jake’s here. I need to hide.”
My safest escape option is the ocean. I break free from Adrian by kicking him in the stomach and go stumbling along the sand. My mind spins as cold water splashes high up my legs, but I keep moving deeper.
“Verena, this is dangerous. Stop!” Adrian calls.
I glance over my shoulder, finding him waist-deep in the water behind me. “I’m fine. We’re in the Whitsundays. There’s not a wave in sight.”
I’m not sure if it’s Karma, but the next moment, a speedboat zooms by, dunking me under the water as one of its manmade waves crashes into me. My body somersaults beneath the water’s surface. Darkness surrounds me, providing no sense of up or down. I swallow a mouthful of salty crap, because along with the ocean water, I felt some lumpy thing go down my throat—whether it be seaweed or tiny fish or whatever the heck is hanging out in this water. I’m calling it salty crap. The uncertainty has me heaving again… underwater.
From beneath the surface, I hear Adrian shouting my name. Is that… desperation in his voice? Even panic? Or am I hallucinating as I enter a slow and painful watery death? I have no idea how long I’ve been down here. My arms are flailing and my lungs beg for air. I kick in any direction, hoping for it to be the right one, until I break the surface and suck in sweet oxygen, followed by another mouthful of salty crap as a second wave crashes into me.
Arms wrap around my waist before I’m swept to the depths of the ocean again. “Breathe. I’ve got you.” It’s Adrian. I’ve never felt more disgusted and relieved in the same moment.
His grip remains tight, stabilizing the two of us as I cough up water. After my first full breath, Adrian readjusts my position, cradling me to his chest with one arm under my knees and the other behind my back.
“Don’t try to fight me.” Adrian’s grip tightens as soon as I attempt to break free. Exhausted, I give up and relax into his arms. Water splashes around us as he begins carrying me back to shore.
The reality of this situation dawns on me: Adrian is shirtless and I’m in my underwear. The warmth of his body radiates into me and I can feel how firm every inch of his shredded torso is. This would have been teenage Verena’s wildest fantasy—being rescued by Adrian Hunter half-naked. In this fantasy, he’d lay me on the sand and rip all our clothes off in one effortless movement, then have hot beach sex with me as the waves ripple onto shore around us.
I’ve lost count of the times I’ve imagined Adrian moving above me, breathless and thrusting hard. Coming inside of me with no condom on.
Whoa, girl, calm down.
That was teenage Verena. Adult Verena is limp and drunk with the world spinning around her, and apparently still capable of fantasizing about sex with Adrian.
“Did you really mean what you said about having sex with me?” I mumble, trying to keep myself from being sick again. I’m going to hate myself for being this open with Adrian when the alcohol wears off, but that’s tomorrow’s problem.
He quirks an eyebrow. “You’re thinking about sex right now?”
“Obviously. Answer the question.”
