Page 15 of Faking It with her Crush

“Well, I’d prefer the sofa,” I say.

Darius huffs a laugh, and when he smiles up at me, his eyes crinkle. “We should talk first. You seemed upset.”

I was. Iam.

But there is such a thing as multitasking. We can talk things throughanddespoil the boss’s apartment.

So with one final sip of wine, I wander to the mantelpiece and set my glass down. The fire blasts heat against my bare legs, and when I turn back to Darius, my spine is straight.

“I was hurt.” No more dancing around it; no more half-lies. No more hiding how I feel from the man I want most in the world, because all this secrecy is killing me. Better to be honest and rejected than to wonderwhat if.“You took my first kiss and it didn’t mean anything to you. That pissed me off. Especially because… well, it didn’t feel like practice.”

“It wasn’t.” Darius shakes his head, then strides to join me at the mantelpiece. His glass is placed beside mine with aclick. And his back is straight too, like we’ve both been carrying these heavy loads and we’re finally setting them down. “I’ve been such an ass, Lucy, letting my fears get in the way. None of it was fake to me. None of it. Of course that kiss meant something to me—it meant the world.”

My whole body tightens, quivering with hope.

“Then why—?”

“I could never deserve you.” A strong hand curves around my hip, searing me through my red velvet dress. I’m falling into those steady brown eyes. “I have no idea how to do any of this. My parents hated each other and put me off the idea of love for years; my best friend from college is a determined loner. I’ve never seen a happy couple up close, never learned how it’s done.”

Darius’s mouth twists, and turmoil swirls in those dark eyes. Jeez, he’s really worried about this, isn’t he? This has really kept him away from me for a year.

Men.Honestly.

“Darius.” He inhales sharply when I take his hand, my thumb rubbing back and forth on his palm. “Maybe I’m not the only one who needs practice.”

The composer chokes out a laugh, like he can’t believe this is real.

“You’d do that for me? Figure things out as we go?”

And oh, this beautiful dumbass. Fighting a smile, I place my other hand on his chest, slipping my fingertip beneath his shirt again. “Obviously. How do you think everyone else does it? Do you think there’s a secret manual?”

Darius hums, head lowering. “No?”

Our breath mingles, and we’re a hair’s breadth away from kissing. My second ever kiss. “Good instinct. So we can figure it out, right? We’re smart people.”

“You’resmart people.” Darius nips my bottom lip. “I’m all looks, sweetheart.”

And he’s teasing me again, hands roaming, breathing faster, but when our mouths meet, all is right with the world.

Fight? What fight?

And what fake date?

Turns out neither of us are good actors, because we meant every heated look, every dance, every touch. Both of us pretended it wasn’t real while dying on the inside, contorted with longing. What a pair we are.

“There will be rumors on Monday.” Tugging his jacket off his broad shoulders, I kiss Darius again and again until my head spins. He kisses me back, devouring my mouth, my neck, my jaw. “Everyone will be gossiping about you again.”

“Good.” The jacket lands with a soft thump somewhere behind the sofa. “Let them. They’ve finally stumbled on something true.”

And…theDarius Amin, famous composer, with the bookish accountant with glasses? Will anyone even believe it? Will they think it’s too ridiculous? Will they—

No.

Not going down that path.

I don’t care how it looks to everyone else in the office. Don’t care if they think Darius is too handsome for me. Because the fact ishewants me—so desperately that he’s growling, popping a button off his shirt as he tears it open—and that’s all that matters. Everyone else can kick rocks.

“So,” Darius says between kisses, squeezing my waist, my hips, my ass, “fucking… sweet.Lucy. You know how long I’ve wanted this?”

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