Fake Fiancée(21)

“Are you?”

She straightened. “What do you mean?”

“Are you the one for me?”

A few ticks of silence passed. Her chest rose as she sucked in a breath.

“I’m kidding. Jesus, did you believe me?”

She swallowed, looking away from my eyes. “No, of course not.”

What the fuck was wrong with me? I raked both hands through my hair. I was completely off. And being an asshole. “Back to Bart—explain it to me.”

She nodded stiffly. “Fine. Since you asked so nicely. I called an Uber to get me home from the library and the driver never showed. Then my phone died, so if the driver called, I missed it. Everyone at work had already left, so I was stuck and decided to walk home. Some of those streets close to campus are iffy—there was a mugging there last month. Bart happened to drive by, saw me, and stopped. At first, I told him to go on, but he—he begged me. I was desperate to get home and just crash. It was just a ride home.”

He’d begged her.

What a piece of shit manipulator. Had he been following her from work? I honestly didn’t put much past him if he wanted her back. There was only one thing to do, and I should have done it earlier.

I dug around in my pockets, pulled out my keychain, removed my Land Cruiser key, and pressed it in her hand. “Here, this is yours to keep. I have an extra at the house. You drive my car until we get this straightened out.”

She stared at the key with wonder. “But, but what will you drive?”

“My Harley—or I’ll catch a ride with Tate. Whatever. I can’t have you walking home in the dark, and I don’t want you riding in the same car as Bart—or with some Uber driver.”

“Oh.”

“Did he try to get you back?” I wanted to know every single word he’d said to her—which was crazy.

“Not really your business,” she said.

I propped my arm up on the door and leaned in until our faces were close. She smelled like heaven. “I have a check for you in my back pocket that makes it my business,” I said softly, my eyes landing on those heart-shaped lips.

She smirked. “Your macho slash sexy stance doesn’t faze me, Quarterback, but if you must know, he was just worried about me being out alone. Yes, he wanted to bring up the past, but I didn’t.”

“You said I was sexy.” My lids lowered.

She blinked, nibbled on her bottom lip—and changed the topic. “Do you want to come in? It’s not the Ritz, but it’s definitely different. I’ll introduce you to Charlie?”

I perked up. I needed anything to distract me from how much I wanted to screw my fake girlfriend. “You have a dog or a cat?”

“Pet unicorn in the bathroom.”

And there it was. Any earlier tension that had been lingering evaporated. I let out a relieved laugh. “Nice. Does he crap glitter and rainbows?”

She laughed and the door opened further. “He’s just a sticker on the wall, but he’s something to see. Well, you coming or going?”

I should go home and rest. “I’ll come in.”

“You’ll have to be gone soon, though. I have to go over those stupid A&P notes before I go to sleep.” She rolled her eyes.

“I’ll help you. I would have even if we hadn’t made a deal.”

She gave me a spontaneous hug, the lemon scent of her hair lingering, her body warm as she pressed against me.

“What’s this for?” I asked, my hands not knowing where to go. On her tight ass? No, that was wrong. I curled my arms around her waist and inhaled. She just—fuck—felt so good. And it wasn’t about sex—no, it was more, as if we shared a human connection that meant something I couldn’t wrap my head around.

She squeezed my shoulder. “This is for giving me your car key, silly. And I’m glad you won your game this weekend.”

I eased away from her hug with reluctance, feeling off balance, wanting to touch her again.

We stepped down into a seventies style darkened room with wood paneling on the bottom and an upper wall that had been stripped of wallpaper. It was small but clean. Bright, colorful pillows and velvet throws were spread across an old pink Victorian-looking couch with a curved wooden back. Live plants sat under the front window and framed pictures lined the old mantle above the fireplace. I walked over to them for a closer look. Most were of her and an older woman with blond hair. One caught my eye—

What was that? My heart flip-flopped in my chest.

I felt her gaze on me from behind. Yeah, she knew exactly what I was seeing.

I turned around and held out the frame. “Not a football fan, huh? You’d rather play chess, you said. Looks to me like you’re having a pretty good time at the bowl game last year—in Phoenix. Long way to go for a non-fan.” I pointed down at the pic. “This is you, right, with your face painted like a tiger and wearing our team colors? And is this a huge number one foam finger you’re holding up? Why, yes. I think it is.” I held it up high to the light, inspecting it as if it were a diamond. I burst out laughing. “This is classic. Tate is going to freak when I tell him.”

She grimaced, her face flushing. “That trip was for Mimi.”

I nodded. She’d mentioned her a few times in passing.

“Anyway,” she continued. “I scored the tickets from someone who couldn’t go at the last minute. It wasn’t a big deal.”