Page 70 of Beyond the Stroke

Another thing I can’t explain.

A convenient marriage is exactly what I need right now. I don’t have time for anything else. My life is full, my training is all consuming, and I don’t have the energy for something real.

Summer’s doing me a favor. Taking the pressure off by agreeing to a fake marriage.

And yet, I can’t shake this feeling.

Maybe it was the way she looked at me lying in bed last night, guarded and unreadable, like she’s holding something back. Or maybe it’s the way this arrangement boxes us in, closing off possibilities, that until Summer slammed the door on them, I didn’t even realize I might want.

It shouldn’t bother me, but it does.

Because if I wanted to kiss her, if I wanted to see where things might go, that’s not on the table anymore. It’s like being disqualified before you even get off the starting block.

Now, as the guys give me shit about it, I’m forced to put on a casual smile and tell them I know what I’m doing when that’s the furthest thing from the truth.

No feelings. No intimacy. Nosex.

The thought of Summer being around all the time, seeing her in my space, in my life, it makes me uneasy in the best way. I’d already admitted that I have this need to be around her. To know she’s okay, to make sure she’s safe. But I know at the root of that, it’s something more.

For all the friend talk we’ve been passing back and forth, there’s no denying I’m attracted to Summer.

Simply being in her presence turns me on. Our pinkies brushed last night and I got hard. How am I going to handle faking a marriage with her? She’d been adamant that there be no romantic feelings between us but does wanting to know what she tastes like and what kind of sounds she makes when she comes violate that rule? According to Summer, it does.

The more I think about it, the more I wonder if this is all going to blow up in my face.

“It’s an arrangement,” I say finally. “One that lets me focus on swimming.”

“An arranged marriage?” Logan asks.

“If it were arranged, he’d be marrying Daphne,” Eli mutters.

“So, you’re marrying Summer so you don’t have to marry Daphne?” Charlie asks.

“Yeah, kind of.”

“Nice.” Charlie nods. “I think I like her already.”

My phone lights up with a text.

Summer

Winnie sent me a wedding day checklist. Rings?

I’ll stop by Rowley’s Hardware and grab a couple from the toy vending machine.

Summer

Cool. I’ll check that one off.

I start to text her that I’m kidding, but stop. If she thinks we’re exchanging bendable rings from a vending machine she’s more likely to go through with it.

I submitted the insurance form to add you to my coverage. Should be in effect as soon as we submit a copy of the marriage certificate.

Summer

thank you

I stare at my text. It feels like I should say something more, something less transactional, but I’m not sure Summer wants that, so I toss my phone in my locker and slam it shut.

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