Page 60 of How Jenna Became My Dilemma

He’s got me there. I love rules, guidelines, instructions—pretty much anything I can follow—but not in this situation. With Cody, I need to act like I don’t care, like this entire fake relationship means nothing. I’m completely unaffected by him.

I laugh, showing how much I don’t care. “You only make rules if you have something to protect or something you don’t want to lose.”

His brows raise. “And you think we don’t?”

I’m bluffing. I’m trying to protect my heart because I definitely don’t want to lose it to him.

Be confident.

Be bold.

Be brave.

That sounds like something that should be written on a t-shirt, not the mantra for my fake relationship. Maybe after all this with Cody, I can sell shirts with that saying on Etsy—make millions.

My chin lifts, checking off the confident and bold categories of my t-shirt business/fake relationship slogan. “This isn’t real, so therefore, we have nothing to lose. We’re just acting.” I move to step away from him since I think we’ve been smooshed together long enough.

“Not so fast.” Both hands grab at my waist, and as if we’re professional ballroom dancers, Cody effortlessly spins me around so I’m facing him chest to chest. His flirty smile kills me, adding to the perpetual beats of my heart.

“You should probably save the PDA for when we really need it. I’d hate for you to tire out early.” I reach for my hips, thinking I can somehow remove his hands, but instead, my fingers tangle together with his. So now we’re face to face, his hands holding me to him, my hands on top of his, his heartbeat pounding through his chest to mine, and his sultry blue eyes piercing me.

My breaths are patchy and frazzled, and my resolve to pretend that this thing between us doesn’t matter and isn’t killing me starts to slip. It shouldn’t be this hard to keep real feelings gated in.

“Don’t worry about me. I won’t tire. I have plenty of stamina when it comes to this fake relationship.”

“Your confidence is heart-warming, but let’s just save the physical touch for when it’s necessary.”

“That sounds like a rule.”

“More like a fake relationship unofficial motto.”

“We don’t have rules, but we have mottos?”

“We don’t have anything, so you can let go of me now.”

His brows lift as his gaze bounces behind me. I turn my head, and sure enough, there’s a couple down the hall, gawking. The wife has her phone out like she’s about to take a picture of us, or maybe she just did. I remind myself of all the reasons why I need this fake relationship to be believable: it will help my career, it will help the show, it will give hundreds of people jobs, and it will help ratings so season two can get signed. And with those reasons at the tip of my brain, I clap it on.

My arms lift, circling around Cody’s neck, hugging him to me even more. There’s a spark of surprise in his eyes, like he wasn’t expecting me to play along, but that lasts only a moment before he smirks in one of his too-handsome-for-his-own-good kind of ways. I’m matching him stride for stride, so I tip my lips into a smile I’m sure I’ve never used on him before. Our gazes hold as I slowly shift my head to the side until the last second when my eyelids hover closed, and I softly kiss his cheek, his jawline, and his neck. Honestly, with Cody’s short beard, who knows how much he actually feels of the action—probably nothing. But I feel a lot. I feel his strong arms wrapped around my waist, spurts of warm breath on my neck, the roughness of his beard against my skin.

And the smell.

Holy moly, the smell.

It’s soap, but not the same low-budget crap that’s in my room’s shower and will never be given the chance to grace my skin and body. It’s like the manliest-smelling soap I’ve ever encountered, with subtle hints of spice, or pine, or I don’t even know. But I’m willing to spend an afternoon at a soap factory and sniff all the samples until I discover what it is that makes his scent so completely intoxicating.

“You smell good too,” he whispers into the crook of my neck.

My body stiffens.

Did Cody hear me sniff him? Repeatedly? Feel my nose trail around the base of his neck like some kind of scent hound hunting its prey?

There’s nothing embarrassing about that at all.

Nothing.

“I didn’t even notice your scent.” I pull away, brushing my hair back from my face. “Do you smell good?” I lean forward, dramatically making a show of smelling him. I hold my nose there, shaking my head. “I don’t smell anything. But thank you for saying I smell good.” I glance behind at the clear hallway, wondering how long we’ve actually been alone. “We should go.”

I flip my gaze back to Cody. There’s amusement in his eyes. So much amusement.

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