Page 39 of The Midseason Fakeout

“No, for real.” She turns toward me. “I’m not supposed to be taking your attention. I’m supposed to be giving you more time to focus.”

I blink at her. “You’re thinking about me?”

“Well, yeah.”

I shake my head. It’s stupid that my brain does this. Thousands of people scream my name every Saturday, people seek me out on campus just to say hi, but this kind of attention—the kind that comes from someone who truly cares—still catches me off guard. I’ve only allowed a few people in my life to get this close to me. Darrin, of course. West. My adopted parents. People I truly trust that I know won’t fuck with mine in return. I didn’t realize until now that Bailey was getting that role too. I give her my cocky grin. “Well, the longer this takes, the less sleep I’ll get.”

“Maybe we should do it another night?”

“Bailey…”

She looks into the dark pit again, and I can’t help but tease her.

“Gosh, I’m so tired. I wish my fake girlfriend would jump off this cliff with me so I can go home and get some sleep.”

“Ugh,” she groans in frustration. “You’re awful.”

I reach behind my back to take my shirt off. Yanking it over my head, I place it on the bench, then step out of my pants. My boxers will do as swim trunks. I wish I’d thought ahead and grabbed a towel, but I didn’t. I’m nothing if not a spur-of-the-moment type of guy. Bailey can just use my shirt as one, that’sifshe actually jumps.

When I turn back around, I’m greeted by the vision of Bailey’s bare backside: her ass like perfect spheres, the stunning silhouette of her back as it meets her shoulder blades.

Slowly, she spins to face me, and I watch as the color drains from her face. “Oh God…” She wraps her arms around herself, one hand covering her perfect breasts, the other semi-hiding the V between her legs. “Aidan! You only took your shirt off. I thought we were skinny dipping too.”

My mouth works, but no sound comes out except for a laugh. Then another. “I was going to dive in my boxers.”

She turns again, snatching her clothes from the ground. Using her shirt to block her tits, she hangs her head, then fishes for her bra and attempts to put it back on.

I walk up behind her, annoyed that she’s so flustered. “Don’t you dare.” My voice comes out low, commanding.

Her back straightens.

“I’m all for the change in dress code,” I tell her, my gaze falling on the delicate skin of her shoulder. The same skin I breathed over when my arm was wrapped around her earlier.

“I’m mortified. I can’t do anything right.”

Reaching past her, I take the shirt out of her hands as she continues to fiddle with her bra straps. They’re all tangled, and she growls in frustration. “I swear, if you cover those perfect tits, I’m going to be mad. Turn. Now.”

She stills, giving me the opportunity to appreciate her silhouette again. Those sensual curves. That round, supple ass.

Gorgeous.

My dick starts to harden in my boxers.

“If you don’t, you’re going to miss me taking off my boxers.”

“Well, of course no one would want to miss that,” she drawls.

Despite her words, she turns, her bra hanging from her right hand.

We keep getting put into positions like this, don’t we? Miscommunication. Our fake flirting turning into something more. It’s like life is teasing me…

“If I’d known you looked like that, I would’ve kicked your brother out of our skinny dip party just so you could walk around naked.”

“Maybe I have looked like this,” she says, sticking out her chest. Her breasts are absolutely spectacular. Her gaze drifts down my front, and she quirks a brow as if challenging me. “Your boxers?”

There’s no way I can do this sexily, so I just hook my thumbs and move slow, hoping a big tease pays off. I have to lift the elastic band out and around my stiff cock. It juts there proudly, and I send a thankful prayer that he’s making me look good. When I kick the boxers off, she’s staring at him, and he preens more under her attention.

This is either a bad idea…or a really good one. Since we’re faking everything else, we can get away with naked jumping without serious injuries, right? And I’m not talking about physical damages. I’m talking about making this whole situation more complicated than it already is.

---