Page 19 of Fake To Forever

Damn my attraction to roughnecks and any guy who works hard. He looked sogood. Not to mention, I bet he’s good in bed. Confident, dominant, and attentive… he probably knows just what to do to get a woman to go crazy.

Stop it.

But It's been a long time. Years. God, how many years now? I don’t even want to count. It’s not like I’ve intentionally been celibate—I was busy with graduate school and the daycare, plus I live in the same town as my older brother who is massively protective…

The shower suddenly turns off, and I’m jolted back to reality.

Shit! How long have I been standing here?

I totally spaced out thinking about Chris and his potential skills in bed that I left myself completely open to being caught in his room. The sound of him getting out of the shower causes my heart to race. I beeline for the door and scramble down the hallway. I need to get downstairs before he catches me lingering around like a creep.

I manage to get to the living room and sit on the couch before I hear him on the stairs. Trying my best to appear nonchalant, I lean back against the couch cushions and turn my head to give him a casual smile, but I freeze when I see that he’s wearing gray sweatpants… and no shirt. My jaw drops at the sight of his chiseled torso and six-pack.

Holy shit.

I realize I’m blatantly staring at him and jerk my gaze away, but my cheeks are on fire. When I hear him release a soft chuckle, I jump to my feet. Humiliation thrumming through me.

“I… I’m sorry,” I stammer. “I should get going. Have a good night.”

I start in the direction of the front door, but Chris steps in my path.

“Wait, hold on,” he says with a grin. “You don’t have to go.”

Forcing my gaze up to his, I reply, “It’s late and you’re probably exhausted…”

He takes a step closer to me and my breath leaves me in a rush.

“You seem nervous.” He chuckles. “Do I make you nervous?”

“No… no,” I insist, though the squeak in my voice instantly gives me away. “You don’t make me nervous.”

“Are you sure?” He moves a fraction of a step closer and I move back. “You seem nervous.”

“Why would you say that?”

Another step forward for him, another step back for me. When I find myself pressed against a wall, my heart races and he keeps coming closer until there’s barely any room separating us.

He raises one hand and rests it on the wall next to my head.

“Because,” he says in a low, rumbling voice, “you’re blushing, and I’m pretty sure you were lingering around my bedroom while I was showering.”

I blink and shake my head trying to push away the thoughts of him naked in the shower like some immature high school girl who's never seen a good looking man before.

“No… no, I wasn’t. I simply put Oliver to bed… that’s all.”

He laughs, my heart dropping into my stomach as my face continues to flush. “You weren’t as quick as you thought you were. I caught you running down the hall just as you reached the stairs.”

Of course you did. That figurative hole in the ground can swallow me at any time.

“I wasn’t peeping or anything,” I insist, clearing my throat as I try to play dumb. But by the amused expression on his face, he isn’t buying what I’m trying to sell.

“I didn’t say you were.”

Releasing a short breath, I grumble, “Then what are we doing right now? What is this?”

He appears thoughtful, a heavy breath escaping him as he stares at me with his dangerously blue eyes. “Honestly? I’m not entirely sure, but… I don’t think I want to stop.”

Reaching up, he gently takes hold of my chin and tilts my head up. Every part of me is screaming that this is wrong. That I shouldn’t be acting this way with this man. I barely know him, and I can’t get myself involved with a parent or anyone else for that matter.

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