Page 8 of The Fake Boyfriend Excursion

Good in a way I’m not used to.

Good in a way I’d like to get used to.

About an hour before Chad and his family are supposed to meet up for dinner—well, and me too, not that I’m going—Trick strolls back into the suite. I slip back inside, sliding the glass door shut behind me.

He glances at my pink cotton shorts and bedazzled tank top. "Very casual. Maybe I'll wear something casual to dinner, too."

"I'm not going to dinner," I say quickly.

"You can't hide out here all week,” he says, gaze intense and voice serious.

"I sure can," I say, planting my hands on my hips. "Your brother is going to be at that dinner. There's no way I'm going to face him when he hasn't told your parents about what happened. It's going to be too awkward."

Trick prowls across the suite toward me. There was no other word for it. He moved with such feline grace, predatory and smooth. "Don't worry about my parents. I'll tell them."

"I can't ask you to do that," I say, shaking my head and letting my arms drop to my sides. "You know they're going to blame me."

"They can never blame Chad for any of his own mistakes, so yeah, that's a definite possibility, but you still shouldn't be ashamed and hide away like you did anything to deserve this."

"I just don't think I can face him," I say softer, looking up at him beseechingly. "Especially if he truly believes we're going to get back together. He's just going to try and brush the whole thing under the rug and I'm either going to have to sit there and take it or cause a scene."

"I told you I'd handle it," Trick says. "And I came up with an idea," he adds, a wry grin spreading across his lips.

"What kind of idea?" I have a bad feeling about that smile.

"The kind where we tell them we're together now, and it drives Chad crazy with jealousy."

I suck in a breath.

That’s a terrible idea.

To convince anyone we’re together, there would have to be at least casual touching with lots of time spent right next to each other. I'm not sure my poor libido could handle it, let alone my heart.

Before I can explain why we can’t do this in a way that doesn’t reveal my not-so-tiny crush, he grabs my hands and gives them a soft tug. "Trust me, Virginia, this is the best way to get back at him."

For some reason, I can’t argue with him.

"Okay," I say.

What am I getting myself into?

4

I’m notsure if my plan will actually work, but I know it’s going to be fun as hell to drive Chad crazy. What will be even better is getting to put my hands on Virginia’s sexy body as we “pretend” we’re together.

Ha.

The only thing I’ll be pretending about is that I don’t want to punch Chad in the dick.

Virginia and I make our way through the ship in silence, her twisting her fingers the whole way to the fancy restaurant my parents picked for dinner. I don’t know how to reassure her more than I have, so I decide to just show her how good I can take care of her.

I let her go ahead of me through the door and don't bother trying to hide the way my eyes drift down to her ample backside. When I'd convinced her to come, she'd insisted on changing and fixing her hair and makeup. I'd thought she'd looked just fine in her cute little shorts and black tank top with the wordTryingin rhinestones across her fantastic tits, but considering the way everyone is dressed as we head to the maître d' stand, I know she would've been uncomfortable if she'd come in her more casual clothes.

It would've been worth it, I think, to see the look on Chad's face. But it was win-win for me. She’s positivelyediblein her knee-length, white dress that fluttered around her and had tiny red hearts all over it. She'd done something to her hair, letting it down out of the messy bun it had been in, and it’s now cascading down her back and around her shoulders, drawing my eyes and a twitch in my fingers every time the light catches it, pulling out strands of gold and auburn among the dark brown.

She really is spectacularly beautiful, and it makes me more grateful than ever to have such an idiot for a brother. As the hostess leads us to the back corner to where my parents and brother are already seated, I slip up next to her, placing my hand on the small of her back.

She gives a tiny jump at the unexpected touch, one that isn't visibly noticeable, but I can feel it in the charged contact between my hand and the thin fabric of her dress. Fuck, it’s soft.

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