Four Day Fling(43)

Smirking, I elbowed him. “She knows this isn’t real.”

“Shock horror,” he muttered.

Another elbow headed his way before I drew into myself. I twirled the champagne glass by its stem, my fingers drawing lines in the condensation of the glass as the warmth of my fingertips beat the coldness of the alcohol.

“What else did she say?”

“What do you mean?” I tilted my head to look at him.

He shrugged, looking out at the ocean that was barely-lit by the lights that illuminated the paths of the resort. “You haven’t been right since you eloped to the bathroom. I know she said something to you. And before you argue—I have four sisters. I know when a woman is pissed off. I grew up with an almost constant rotation of periods.”

I laughed into my hand, setting my empty glass down on the balcony between us. Now, I was glad for the space. I’d wished just moments ago for it to be closed, but I was happy for it.

“She just…She said something that got to me, that’s all,” I said.

Adam picked up my glass and the bottle and refilled it halfway, just leaving enough for his. “What did she say?”

“It’s stupid.”

“Not that stupid if you’ve got your panties all up in a twist about it, Red.”

Yeah, well, that was his opinion. “I get my panties up in a twist about a lot of stupid things. Not having enough butter for my toast. Cliffhangers 0n TV shows when I’ll get the next episode the following day. My neighbor’s cat scratching at me—”

“Point well taken,” he said, touching his finger to my lips to make me shush. “But that doesn’t cover what your sister said.”

I wasn’t getting out of this, was I? No, because I’d gotten myself into it in the first damn place.

I sighed. “She said we’re doing a really good job at pretending not to be into each other.”

Adam jerked his head to the side, eyes finding mine quickly. He stared at me for a second with a flat expression. My stomach tied in knots—what if he agreed? What if I was more into this fake relationship than he was?

Why did I even care?

Then, he laughed.

Burst into laughter, actually. His entire body shook as his deep chuckles sent tingles across my arms.

“I’m glad it’s so amusing to you,” I muttered, putting the glass down out of reach and getting up.

“Where are you going?”

“To bed.”

“Come here.” He reached over and grabbed my hand.

Stopping, I looked down at him. The sun had finally gone down, but the sky was still painted with golden hues—hues that danced across his features and made his eyes seem ten times brighter than normal.

I swallowed. “What?”

“Sit.” He tugged on my hand.

I didn’t move.

“I swear, Red, if you don’t sit, I’ll stand up and make you.”

I took my hand from his and crossed my arms. Was I being petulant? Yes. Petty? Yes. Immature? Probably.

At least I could admit my faults.

The one thing I couldn’t admit was that the idea of him not being into me bugged me more than I thought it would.

Adam jumped to his feet.

Oh shit.

He was serious.

“No! No! I’ll sit!”

He grabbed me, picking me up with one sweeping movement. A tiny scream escaped me as he did that, one arm around my back and the other behind my knees.

Oh god, there wasn’t enough room on this balcony for this.

“Put me down!” I squeaked.

“No. I warned you.” Slowly, he sat down, taking me down with him. I didn’t know what I was more impressed with—the fact he’d swept me up like I was freaking Cinderella or that he hadn’t dropped me.

He set me down between his legs and leaned back against the wall. My back was against his stomach, and he pulled me back so we were sitting together. His legs were bent at the knees, caging me in, and my own were pulled up thanks to minimal room.

My heart fluttered in my chest as he tilted his head so his breath skirted over my cheek. It was warm and smelled like whiskey.

His fingers trailed up and down my forearms, lightly tickling me. It was weirdly soothing, such a tiny touch that I didn’t want him to stop.

It was comfortable.

Too comfortable.

“I’m not pretending I’m into you, Red,” he said softly into my ear. His lips brushed my earlobe, his fingers still trailing up and down my arms.

It was a dangerous mix of sensations.

“I’m into you. Don’t think I’m not. Pretending to be your boyfriend is the easiest thing I’ve ever done.” His voice was low and warm and…honest.

I didn’t know honesty had a sound, but here I was, hearing it.

“You don’t have to like it, but I can’t help it.” He shifted to the side slightly, reaching to cup the side of my face. He moved me until our eyes met. “I know this is fake, all right? I know that we’ll probably never see each other after Monday. But that doesn’t mean that my attraction to you right now isn’t very, very fucking real.”

I swallowed.

“I mean, you’re crazy, aren’t you?” His lips twitched, eyes dancing with mirth. “You’re a complete antagonist to your family, but you’re also the cog that seems to keep them all turning. The strawberries, the drugging—while a questionable means of showing your love, still works.”