Page 33 of Fake Date with the Mountain Man

“That should be a big hint.”

I start walking down the hallway and up the stairs. Ryan falls into step beside me without an invitation. When we reach the top of the stairs, he doesn’t hesitate to follow me into my apartment.

“We need to work on being friends. We’re doing a terrible job,” he says.

“And you thinkhikingwill somehow fix that?”

“I think spending time together will fix it. But we need to practice outside of work. We’re making everyone uncomfortable,” he laughs.

“Did they tell you that last night at happy hour?”

Ryan shoves his hands in his pockets and drops his gaze. “I didn’t go to happy hour last night.”

“Why? Did you have a hot date instead?”

Apparently, I’m more into fishing than hiking.

“Nope, you?”

“Yeah, actually.”

Ryan’s face drops a little and I can’t say that I don’t enjoy it.

“Well, hopefully he didn’t wear you out too much because you’ve got a long day of hiking ahead of you.”

“I don’t know…Abby was pretty persistent with those double-stuffed Oreos,” I say.

Ryan gives me a mischievous smirk. “Didn’t know you were into double stuffing.”

“Oh, definitely,” I laugh.

“Naughty girl.”

A chill runs down my spine. That voice that’s been echoing in my ear all week, whispering dirty words and making me wear out a perfectly good vibrator, is standing right in front of me. It’s an unfair advantage.

“First rule of being friends: you can’t say things like that to me,” I say.

This only makes his grin widen. He looks at me with those smoldering eyes that make my knees weak.

“Why? Does it get you all hot and bothered?”

“It’s just not…friendly,” I say.

His face straightens and he raises one hand. “No more dirty talk. Scout’s honor.”

“Okay, I’ll go hiking with you on two conditions: no more dirty talk and you have to promise to tell me more about your Boy Scout days.”

“Deal. Now go get changed, or do you want me to come and watch you undress again?”

He jokingly follows me across the tiny living room until my bedroom is in plain view. His jaw drops when he looks past the open door. I glance back, following his line of sight straight to the colorful toys lying on my bed.

I am mortified. I’m the color of a freshly boiled lobster, and the temperature of one, too.

I try my best to laugh coolly and say, “It’s been a long week.”

Ryan says my name softly as I close my bedroom door behind me, leaving him to his own devices in my living room. And leaving my devices out of his view. I quickly throw them all back in the box and push it under the bed, cursing them for not becoming sentient and figuring out how to put themselves away when we have company.

Chapter 12

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