Page 62 of Let It Be Me

My head is cloudy. “Something. But I don’t remember what.”

He reaches for his phone. “Oh, yeah. Dinner.”

I sigh unhappily. Pizza with Reeve and his newest conquest sounded fun enough when I agreed to it, but that was before making out with Lorenzo was on the table.

“Sorry.” His voice is a husky whisper.

I catch his arm before he can get up. “Wait.” His pulse beats under my fingers. “We could stay here.”

He gazes at me, clearly working through the possible interpretations of my words. “Yeah? And do what?”

I swallow the words I want to say as though just saying them is as dangerous as living them.

“Fuck?” he answers for me, voice low. A sexy smile tugs at his lips, making me throb. “Yeah, we could stay here and fuck. If that’s what you want.”

I picture it: this position but no clothes, my body gliding against his, sweat slicking our skin. His eyes jump back and forth between mine, so I catch the second he answers his own question, the second he sees hesitation in my eyes. Because I want him more than anything, but I am hesitating. I don’t know what I’ve gotten myself into with Lorenzo, and I can only imagine how deep I’d get myself in if we had sex.

“Come on, Hayes.” He nods toward the door before nudging me off him. “Let’s get dinner.”

We’re a secret,and I don’t just like that because it’s delicious. I like it because it means that when we step outside, I know exactly how to act: just like I always have. No hand-holding or kissing or googly eyes. It’s a welcome break from wondering what’s okay and what’s not, and I’m far more comfortable pretending not to be interested in Lorenzo than I am in indulging my attraction to him. I have years of experience pretending.

We’re just inside the pizza place when Lorenzo gets another text. He smirks as he reads it. “Sounds like Reeve and Mrs. Reeve are going to be late.”

“What’s her real name?”

He shrugs. “For today? Mrs. Reeve.”

“I guess every girl at Shafer gets her one night in that role.”

“Every girl?”

“Every girl but me.” I reach out to squeeze his hand, then change my mind. We’re in public. “Should we wait to order?”

“He said not to. They’re probably fucking.” He slides his gaze to me on that last word, like he might be talking about them fucking but he’s thinking about us. Or maybe I’m projecting.

“How do you know?” I ask, trying to pretend I don’t notice the gritty way he said the wordfuckingand that it doesn’t throw me completely off-balance.

“Educated guess.”

If he was any other guy I was into, I’d be holding his hand right now, trailing my fingers up his forearm, slow and rhythmic. He’d have no doubt I was picturing getting naked with him right now. I don’t really do coy. But I don’t know how to act around Lorenzo or which of my thoughts I even want him to know, soI just stand next to him while he orders us a pizza from the counter. We’ve gone from being strictly platonic best friends to best friends who kiss, but what other rules have we established? None.

“Don’t forget I’m going home tomorrow until Sunday to help my parents,” he says, mixing dressing into the Greek salad we’re splitting. “Come with me?”

“I’d have to drive separately—I have to work the garden Friday morning.”

“Then drive separately.” He looks at me an extra second and gives me a private smile. “It’ll be worth it.”

This invitation thrills me, but I try to play it cool. “Maybe if my parents are gone for the weekend.”

“Aren’t they always? Come up either way. You can hide out at my house.”

“And what would be the point of that? I can’t kiss you in front of your parents.”

“Look, at this point we could shower together and they wouldn’t suspect anything. They think you’re too smart to fall for me.” He takes a long drink of water while I watch the way his throat moves. “So will you come up?” It’s a question, but is it really? With the way his dark eyes dance, communicating the smile that’s not quite on his lips, I doubt it.

What am I doing pretending I wouldn’t drive to Alaska if it meant spending the night with him? I relent with a smile.

We’re still eating when Reeve walks in. He’s briefly apologetic, but there’s no cocky smile on his face.

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