Page 92 of Ten Rules for Faking It
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Everly joined the others around the propane fire pit on the wide, wooden-planked deck. She couldn’t even process how gorgeous this home was. It was like something out of a magazine. She loved her apartment. It was her happy place, but one day, she could imagine buying a home, making it her own.Not one like this, though. A little out of your price range.People settled on or around two L-shaped outdoor couches. The furniture was set up for conversation with a gas fireplace in the middle.Are you hoping that by thinking about furniture and houses, you won’t think about how close Chris’s mouth was to yours? Or how you wanted to close the space between you more than you wanted to breathe?
“You look pretty serious. You okay?” Chris sat beside her looking like he wasn’t at all shaken over what almost happened.
Her lungs paused. Everly was almost 100 percent positive that if Stacey hadn’t interrupted, she and Chris would have kissed. Even now, just thinking about the “almost” had her stomach swooping like a trapeze artist, thrill and terror mingling together. She couldn’t think about what “actually” would do to her body and mind if it happened.
If he’s fine, acting like nothing almost happened, you can do that, too.“Porches are nice,” she said, swallowing loudly.Really? “Porches are nice”?“I mean, I was thinking about howbeautiful this house is and that if I ever buy a house, I think I’d like a nice big veranda like this.”
There. Coherent sentences, even breaths, lungs functioning normally.Just don’t look at him. Or think about the fact that your thighs are touching. That’s just so others fit. Others you work with. Your coworkers and friends.
“I agree,” Chris said, no censure or judgment in his voice. “I’d sit out here every morning for coffee and watch the sun come up.”
Now she looked at him as the others talked, laughed, grabbed drinks, and sat down. “Same.”
She couldn’t help the grin that blossomed. Maybe they weren’t so different. Maybe there were ways around… his eyes traveled to her mouth, and her stomach tightened with want. Pure, unadulterated, to-the-corewant.She’d been on six dates in the last month. And the man she wanted was sitting right beside her, looking like he’d like to pick up where they’d left off, several inches closer to each other.
“Everly,” he whispered.
One of his hands held a beer, and the other rested on his thigh. With the subtlest of movements, that no one would see even with the moon glowing behind pockets of clouds and the strings of small outdoor lights along the patio roof, his hand touched her own. Tiny vibrations of sensation, like miniature pulse points, beat up her arm, burrowed into her chest, and she sighed, locked her gaze with his.
His eyes were questioning, and all she could do was widen her smile.
“Okay,” Stacey said, half falling, half sitting in the chair across from them. She looked around at the group. “Everyone have a drink? Excellent. This is how this works for those of you newbies. Someone starts by saying, ‘Never have I ever,’ and they complete the sentence with something they’ve never done.” She stopped, looked around to make sure everyone was with her so far.
Everly laughed, but it felt like an out-of-body experience, because even though she was listening to Stacey, 99 percent of her focus and attention was on the two inches of skin touching Chris.
“We got it, Stace. None of us are as drunk as you,” Mason said, laughing and raising his beer.
“Cool. That’s not all. Whoeverhasdone whatever the person says they haven’t done… Wait… Is that… Yeah, that’s right. If youhavedone what they say, you have to drink. Got it?”
“Maybe you should switch to water,” Everly said, that 1 percent of herself beginning to worry Stacey should just be tucked into bed.
“Meh. Noah watered down my drink, anyway. Buzzkill.”
Noah gave a hearty laugh. It was similar to Chris’s but did nothing to the butterflies in Everly’s stomach. Nope. Those were apparently trained to respond to men she shouldn’t want.Man. One man.
“Why don’t you start, Stacey?” Noah said, throwing his legs up over one side of the chair he was draped on.
So much more casual than Chris, but she noticed when he’d stopped by their meeting last week, he had the same air of authority that Chris did when speaking to a group.
Stacey tapped her lip with one finger. “Okay, never have I ever… oh! Never have I ever skinny-dipped.” She grinned like she’d just won a prize and glanced around the room.
When Jane tipped her drink up first, several people hooted and hollered.
Stacey’s jaw dropped. “Sweet, button-up-collar Jane? Really? I need to up my game.”
Her girlfriend, a long-haired brunette with a distinctly bohemian style, put a hand on her shoulder and joined her in taking a drink, but neither added to the story.
“My turn now?” Jane looked up at her girlfriend. She seemed very into her, and Everly felt bad she didn’t know moreabout some of the people she’d worked with for years. She needed to stop being so closed off.You’re working on it.
“Never have I ever… played a musical instrument.”
Several people took a drink, while Stacey claimed that one was boring. When Chris drank, Everly arched a brow.
His pinkie rubbed along hers. How many freaking nerve endings could one little pinkie have? And since when were they all hardwired to other important parts of her?
“Flute,” he whispered. “In junior high.”
