Page 83 of Even Exchange

“Sure.”No, thank you.

“Text me if you ever need a late night”—she glances around with a smirk, then returns her attention to me—“distraction.” She waves with a wink, walking away before I can reply.

Good lord, that woman can’t take a hint.

Turning back around, I find Charlotte in the same place. Her eyes are glued on me, and she quickly looks away. I chuckle under my breath at her attempt at nonchalance and walk to her.

Placing a finger under her chin, I tilt her gaze to meet mine. “Hey,soffione,” I say, leaning down and kissing her cheek. Pausing, I allow myself one single moment to enjoy the sweet citrus scent of her shampoo, then pull away.

“Hey, birthday boy,” she says, jaw tight.

“Andi.” I nod. “Stella.”

“Noah,” they coo in unison.

“We’re gonna…” Andi points over her shoulder, and before I can say a word, she and Stella have disappeared.

“Wow!” Charlotte laughs. “Now you’re scaring off my friends too. Who knew dating you would be such social suicide?”

“Excuse me?” I scoff, grabbing her hand and tugging her to me. “If anything, I’ve increased your social status.”

Her teasing eyes meet mine. “How do you figure that?”

I cock a brow. “Youaredating a first-round NFL draft pick for the Tampa Barracudas.”

“Am Ireally?” She places a hand over her chest in mock shock. “Well, aren’t I the luckiest girl in all the land.”

“God, you are just…” I lean down, lips hovering over hers, begging for a taste.

I agreed to kissing for our little arrangement, even knowing what an indisputably idiotic idea it is. But if I avoid it too long, peoplewillstart asking questions.

“Was that the redhead from Miami?” Charlotte asks, attempting to maintain apathy and pulling my attention back to her eyes.

I fight a smile. “You remember her?”

“Another ex-fuck buddy, right?”

“Absolutely not. We had one drink.”A drink that you basically forced on me.

Her shoulders relax slightly. “I guess I don’t have the right to care anyways.”

Neither do I, and I still want to knock your ex out every time he looks at you.“Of course you do. We’re dating.”

“Fakedating,” she corrects, adding to the weight in my stomach every time I remember that technicality.

“Right.” I clear my throat. “Well, for therecord, nothing happened between Hannah and me. But she is Coach Bexley’s daughter, so I have to be cordial.”

Her eyes widen. “She’s your boss’sdaughter?”

“Yep.”

“And what, she’s hoping you wanna sleep your way to the top?”

I note the little green monster in her eyes. “I’m more of a bottom type of guy.”

“Noah!” she squeals, slapping me on the chest. “Be serious.”

“Tesoro,” I say, leaning down to her ear. “She’s the last woman I’m thinking about in my bed.” Her lips smash shut, and I pull away. “Wanna go sit by the bonfire?”

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