Page 64 of Maybe We Can Fake It

Ireallyliked doing that with him. And while this friends with benefits arrangement is convenient while we’re already faking a relationship, I’m starting to think I’d like to keep doing this even after Elise and Grant leave.

But that’s dumb.

Travis has never wanted me before in all the years I’ve known him, so how could I expect anything to have changed now?

Convenient. That’s what this is for him. A way for him to get off while he’s busy helping me out. With all the time he’s spending with me, he obviously has no time to go looking for hookups elsewhere. But May’s grandparents will be gone soon, and then he won’t have to keep spending his nights at my house. He’ll be free to get his rocks off wherever and with whomever he chooses.

It's silly to think that, when he has his options back, he might still choose me.

So I should just enjoy him while I’ve got him.

He clears his throat as he stands. “How about I return the favor tonight?”

I force a smile and say, “Sounds good,” because I’m not turning that down.

But even if it’s only an expression, I don’t like to think of him getting me off as another favor he’s doing for me. That feels kind of gross and wrong. Though the way he smiles at me now—warm and eager-looking—makes it seem like that’snothow he sees it. I can only hope not.

“I need to change these linens before anyone checks in,” I tell him, sending a guilty glance toward the rumpled bed.

He chuckles almost shyly. “Right. I’ll let you get to it.”

“Thanks for fixing the wobbly leg.”

His laugh is fuller this time. “Pretty sure you already thanked me really fucking well.”

That makes my face heat up, and I’m not sure how to respond. But he solves this by leaning in, not even hesitating about kissing me after I had his dick in my mouth. It’s brief, though, and then he says, “See you later,” before walking out of the room.

In his absence, I stare at the bed, kind of not believing that happened. What the heck has gotten into me?

No, not what.Who.

Travis fucking Reed. That’s who.

He’s gotten into my pants and into my head, and I’m not sure how easy it’ll be to get him out again. But it sure would be nice if maybe, just maybe, I didn’t have to.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

TRAVIS

BrendenSandersonisgoingto be the death of me, I swear.

How the heck am I supposed to concentrate on setting up this booth for him when I keep remembering exactly how fantastic his warm mouth felt wrapped around my cock? It’s a miracle I haven’t hammered my finger instead of a nail yet.

Leo, one of Brenden’s employees who came with me to help, luckily hasn’t noticed my distracted state. He’s not the most observant guy. Sure, he follows directions fine, but I think I was right not to trust him being in charge of this job.

We’re not the only ones out here on the green getting things ready for the festival. People are bustling around everywhere. Some of them are holding shouted conversations with one another from opposite sides of the green while they work, which also isn’t helping my concentration.

This is exactly the kind of town hoopla I usually like to avoid. But for Brenden, I can endure it.

My phone rings, and I pause what I’m doing to take it out of my pocket. I accept my dad’s call right as Leo carelessly swings around a piece of plywood and almost knocks me in the head.

Ducking swiftly, I let out a curse rather than a greeting.

“Travis?” my dad says, sounding alarmed. “You okay?”

“Yeah, sorry, I’m fine.” I send a pointed look Leo’s way, and he grimaces apologetically before carrying on with what he was doing. “How are you?”

A vague, grumbling sound is the only answer I get to that question. Then Dad says, “I need you to do me a favor if you can.”

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