Page 52 of Surprisingly Us

I slow to a walk and take a deep breath.

Running, weight training, Gyrotonics, and yoga; they’re all a part of my cross training during off-season.

My pace is slower than usual. I stayed up way too late last night, and I can feel the drag of my body today. But as a tradeoff, those few hours of sleep I missed for my time with Rhys was progress toward the challenge Alexei tasked me with.

I practiced dating with Rhys and it wasn’t as stressful as I thought it was going to be.

Sure, there were moments, like when his fingers brushed my leg or I learned that he has a hidden piercing, that I was slightly overwhelmed, but then Rhys would make a joke or flash that charming smile of his and it would give me comfort.

His piercing is something I shouldn’t be thinking about. I don’t even know what kind it is, only the general vicinity that it’s located.

His dick. It’s somewhere on his dick, my brain chimes in.

Despite it being late when I crawled into bed last night, curiosity got the best of me. That reminds me, I should probablyclear my search history ortypes of male genital piercingsis going to be at the top.

Before I can follow the steps to clear it, my phone buzzes with an incoming call. It’s Rhys. My face flushes as if he’s calling because he knows that I was thinking about him and his piercing. I calm my heart by telling myself it’s only a coincidence. Rhys is a lot of things, but there’s no way he’s telepathic.

“Hi,” I answer brightly, banishing the dirty thoughts of him from my brain.

“How’s your day going?” His voice is like butter melting on a hot biscuit. Not that I eat carbs, but if I did, I’m sure that’s what I would compare it to. It’s so smooth, it makes my stomach flutter.

“Good. Busy. How’s yours?”

“Good, but I’ve been distracted thinking about you.”

My eyes widen at his seductive tone.

“You have?” My heart rate picks up, so much so that my watch beeps with an alert, asking me if I’m working out again. I tap the button to deny the suggested workout. The only thing working out is my imaginative brain.

He chuckles. “This is Rhys.” There’s a short pause. “From last night. I’m calling to let you know I had a great time.”

Oh, right. We’re practicing.

“Thanks. Thank you. Yes.” I palm my forehead. I sound like a bumbling idiot. I clear my throat and start again. “I had a good time, too.”

“I’d like to take you out again,” he says, charm oozes from his voice and it’s practically hypnotic.

Somehow, I manage to respond. “Okay. Sure. Let’s do it.”

“Too enthusiastic,” he says, trading his velvety tone for his usual husky one to give the critique. “You need to make me work for it.”

“Really? I thought the point was to go out again so I can get more experience?”

“With me, but we’re practicing what you would say to another guy. One who’s calling you up after a first date. You don’t want to be easily available.”

“I’m not.” I huff. “I’m super busy. That’s why I’m fake-dating you.”

“How about dinner and a movie tomorrow night?” he asks, his tone changing again to indicate he’s not Rhys, but some future guy asking me out.

I pause, taking in the feedback he’s given me. If it isn’t Rhys asking me, but another guy, I’d say no. With the exception of last night, I don’t like events that take place on weeknights. It interferes with my schedule.

“I’m busy tomorrow night.”

“Okay. How about Thursday?” he asks.

“Um, I’ll need to check my calendar and get back to you.”

“That’s perfect.” His voice is back to normal but I’m not certain if the conversation with random future date guy is still happening.

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