I slap his hard bicep. “Stop! You know what it means.” My cheeks are turning pink for some reason.
He raises an eyebrow. “Well, I have an idea, but you know, it leaves a lot open for interpretation. Hanky-panky is very vague. I might think it means old-fashioned sex, but then if that’s true…it means second base is totally up for grabs. Maybe even—”
“NATHAN!” My stomach barrel-rolls right out of this SUV because I do not want to hear what’s about to come out of his mouth next. We do not talk like this. Ever. Suddenly it doesn’t feel like we’re on his couch anymore, and I need to bring us back down to level ground. “No…sexual…anything!” I struggle saying each of those words. “And don’t be such a jokester about all of this. I’m serious.”
Don’t get me wrong—I’d love nothing more than hanky-panky with Nathan, but I know it wouldn’t mean the same things to us. I would never be able to separate my feelings from the act.
He hears the sharpness in my tone, and his amusement dies a little. “I know. I’m just playing. No hanky-panky…I got it. But the rest of this…” He scans the paper one more time before shaking his head and RIPPING IT UP! My rules are nothing but confetti falling to the floor now.
My mouth falls open. “Why did you do that?!”
“Because it’s ridiculous. We’re going to touch. We’re going to kiss, Bree.”
My heart stops. He said those words so matter-of-factly. Without hesitation or question. Just like, These lips will be touching those lips, no big deal. It would be a big deal for me.
“No. No kissing.”
“Couples kiss. If we’re going to sell this relationship, we’re going to need to kiss in public at some point.”
I sigh, a part of me knowing he’s right. “Okay, only if the absolute need arises, we can share a closed-mouth kiss. Just a quick peck for the cameras.” I’m not sure what would happen to our contract if the fake part of our relationship is discovered, and I don’t want to find out. I need that money.
He doesn’t agree, just picks up the shreds of my peace of mind and tosses them into a cup holder. He pulls out his phone. “Actually, all of this reminds me—we need to take a picture together and post it. An official ‘we’re a couple’ photo for social media to ooh and aah over.”
Oh right. That was in the contract—abundant social media lovey-dovey-ness. He turns the camera around to selfie mode and aims it in front of our faces. I lean toward him so our heads are almost together and cheese it up.
“Why aren’t you taking the photo?” I say through my smiling teeth.
“Because this pose makes us look like best friends.”
Duh. That’s what we are.
I drop my smile and turn my face to his. “Okayyyy. Well, what should we do then?”
He bites the side of his lip as he contemplates something and then unbuckles my seatbelt.
“Hey! Unsafe!”
Nathan loops his arm around my middle and, before I can protest, hauls me up onto his lap. HIS LAP! I guess that throws my no touching when not in public rule out the window. I can feel his solid chest against my back and his strong thighs under mine. He leans in and his breath warms my neck. My body doesn’t know how to react to this, so it just bursts into flames. “Wh-what’s happening right now?”
“Just relax. Pretend you like me.” Oh the irony.
His nose presses into the side of my jaw and I can feel his eyelashes brush against my skin as his eyes close. He holds the camera up in front of us, and my terrified expression is mirrored back at me. Eyes wide. I’m a deer in the headlights. But Nathan looks so natural, so like a man enjoying the feel of a woman—not his best friend. I hear him breathe in deep, and the hint of a smile touches the corner of his mouth. He’s a good actor. Before I realize it, my head is tilting into his, my eyes are closing, and my lips are curving up on their own.
He smells good.
So damn good.
I want to fill a pool with his scent so I can swim around in it all day long while sipping a margarita.
Sitting on his lap, I feel tiny. Like he could wrap his arms around me and shield me from a hurricane. So many sensations flit through my body as Nathan’s breath fans against my skin and his arm tightens around my waist. His lips don’t make any attempts at contact. He’s just hovering here in this nearness we’ve never had before, forehead and nose pressing into me like an affectionate nuzzle.
My skin is singed, and before I have time to worry that I’m letting myself enjoy his touch too much, the SUV crawls to a stop. Nathan pulls his face away from mine and cold air rushes over me. Acting complete.
“I think we got a few good ones. What do you think?” he asks with almost no emotion in his tone. Zero hints that he was feeling anything close to what I was feeling.
Still perched on his lap like this is my new throne, I take his phone and look closely at the photos. I can’t form any words because I almost can’t believe what I’m looking at. That’s not me and Nathan in this picture. This is a couple who’s head over heels for each other.
I know why I see that blissful look on my face, but why is it on his too?