Page 10 of The Fake
I flip on the light in the common room and Nathan takes a seat on my floral chair. He’s probably the first person to sit in it, which seems sorta fitting. “Give me just a minute. I’m going to grab the wine from my room.”
I kick off my heels and hold them in one hand as I slip quietly into my room. Sydney is asleep and the lights are out, making the room pitch black. We’ve taken to falling asleep with music playing to drown out the deafening silence between us.
Khalid plays softly and it’s enough that I don’t worry that my rummaging under my bed for the wine will wake her.
He’s scrolling through his phone when I return with two bottles, a wine opener, and one cup.
“I could only find one of these in the dark.” I hold up the hot pink cup.
I waffle on where to sit until he slides down to the floor. The way he moves, so effortless and comfortable in his skin, strikes me. It’s attractive for a man to be just so… himself.
I sit across from him between the couch and coffee table. “Red or white?”
He smirks. “Can’t guess which I like better?”
Both bottles are some cheap bottom-shelf brand. Neither can taste that great, but considering the nasty alcohol he had on hand earlier, I go with the dryer option and grab the red.
“Lucky guess.”
I scoff. “That was not luck. If I’ve learned nothing else about you tonight from this weird back and forth guessing game, I took note of your choice in alcohol. Potent and rough around the edges.”
Sort of like him.
He wraps his long fingers around the bottle and slides it closer to him while grabbing the opener with the other hand. He has the cork out and the cup filled quickly and offers it to me. “Ladies first.”
Just the very tip of our fingers touch as I grasp the cup, but I can tell by the way his eyes lock onto the contact that he’s as aware of it as I am. His presence in my dorm is heady and relaxing all at once. The first real friend I’ve made in Valley.
“Cheers,” I say before taking a drink.
The wine hits me hard after the various types and large consumption of alcohol I’ve had. I’m giggling and smiling at Nathan as we continue our guessing game—bouncing from favorite foods to middle names. My face actually hurts from smiling. And the more I learn about Nathan, the less I care about the answers and the more I realize just how good it feels to be sitting on the floor of my dorm sharing a cup of wine. Though, he’s pretty interesting too. And not at all hard to look at as we’ve established.
“Alright, Chloe, give me the important details. Name, age, hometown, major.” My name on his lips is the final shot to do me in.
“Chloe Marie Macpherson, twenty-one years old, originally from California, senior, communications major,” I rattle off the facts that make up who I am and yet say so much less than we’ve already shared. I set the cup down in front of him. “Your turn.”
“Nathan Robert Payne, twenty-one years old, from Michigan, senior, business.”
“Soccer?” I ask, returning to our earlier conversation.
“No, and you’re running out of sports.” His eyes narrow on me again as he delivers a question I didn’t expect. “Single?”
I nod because I’m holding my breath and I’m afraid if I speak, it’ll come out all breathless and needy.
He moves closer with that sexy smirk and fingers a strand of hair. “Good.” He leans in so his lips hover over mine. He smells of liquor and wine and awesomely bad decisions. “I don’t have to guess if some dude is gonna track me down tomorrow for doing this.”
5
Nathan
For the last several hours,I’ve been thinking about kissing Chloe. I’m not usually the kind of guy who wonders what it’d be like to kiss a girl. I think about getting them naked, of course, and it’s not like I don’t enjoy kissing. Kissing is great, but it’s usually just the required first step to my end goal.
I wonder if she’ll taste like Everclear, champagne, or wine? A combination of all three, maybe?
But when my tongue sweeps inside her mouth, she doesn’t taste like any of those things. She tastes like summer. Sunshine, lazy days, carefree nights, endless possibilities—things that I’d have sworn only moments ago don’t even have a taste.
Slow unsure kisses turn long and deep and somehow, she ends up on my lap. I can’t remember if I put her there or if she climbed on top of me, but now that she’s here, I’ve got both hands tight around her waist to keep her in place.
It doesn’t seem like she’s going anywhere, though. Her hands thread through my hair and then slide down my back. I let her make the first move to naked town. She lifts my shirt over my head, and those green eyes roam over my chest and abs with blatant appreciation.
