Page 26 of Lessons in Faking
Caden’s box-dyed blond buzzcut contrasted his dark brows but complemented his blue eyes, which gleamed in amusement as his hand landed on McCarthy’s thigh with a dull thud. “There’s a perfectly good seat right here!” he exclaimed, patting the leg beside him.
McCarthy threw a deathly glare at his friend, but it turned into an unreadable expression when his gaze drew to mine.
I blinked at him.
Was he actually considering this? Me? On his lap?
Nothing but clothes separating us, no room to mess up our relationship facade? After all, Henry was right across from us. Any argument, any looks that didn’t say,We’re in a happy healthy relationship, and he’d know how fake it all was.
How embarrassing would that be?
McCarthy shrugged, brow furrowed as he tried to read my expression. Then as if giving up, he pushed his chair back with a scraping sound that was almost entirelydrowned out by the surrounding conversations and the low music in the background. His arms opened, and a prompting look washed over him.
And one glance at my brother’s face ushered me right into McCarthy’s lap.
Chapter 13
McCarthy was comfortable. His lap didn’t feel like one at all—or maybe I was just glad to spare my ass from sitting on chairs that looked as comfortable as blunt boulders. Even if that meant McCarthy’s legs cushioning it.
I tried not to think about that at all. About the muscles rippling his thighs, or that I was sitting on them. Despite my greatest efforts, I was still aware of the arm slung around my waist and the murmur of his and Caden’s conversation, though. And I startled when McCarthy shifted underneath me.
“Sorry,” he muttered, drawing my attention from my conversation with Wren and Laila, the girl beside her. She’d turned out to be someone’s sister. I wish I remembered whose.
McCarthy’s grip around me tightened when I turned his way. Which was a bad idea, by the way. His brown eyes were mere inches from mine, so close I could feel his breath catching against my nose. It made ignoring him underneathmethatmuch harder. His fingers curling around my hip didn’t help.
I tried to adjust my new position. My arms ended up around his neck, and I honestly didn’t mean for them to. Because it meant his undivided attention on me, and my undivided attention on him. He tensed below me, and I paused my wiggling abruptly, like I’d suddenly realized what sitting—wiggling—in his lap really meant. “Sorry.” I cringed, honestly. “Just trying to get—”
“Comfortable,” he whispered, voice strained. An odd choice, I thought, to whisper in a loud, dingy sports bar. I didn’t like how intimate it felt.
McCarthy swallowed hard, eyes never leaving mine.
Undivided attention.
“Are you?” he asked, voice still low. “Comfortable? Because I distinctly remember you saying light PDA, and the way you’re nestling into my crotch is anything but—”
“I’m not!” I hissed, but the second I lifted some of my weight off him, I couldn’t deny it. Horrified wouldn’t begin to describe how I felt, and I was glad for the low lighting when heat crept up my neck.
He huffed. The way I felt it on my skin only exaggerated the color in my cheeks. “All I ask is that you have some mercy on me, Pressley.”
Something low in my belly coiled at the rasp in his voice, and I was so focused on suppressing the feeling, I forgot to... say something.Speechless.I’d never been speechless.
“Great.” McCarthy nodded, the corner of his lip twitching. “So you’re comfortable?”
“Yes.” Even if I weren’t, I wouldn’t dare move. I was scared, not of the consequences, but by how much I wanted to know what they’d be. How much I wanted to shift in his lap just for the sake of it—
“Dude!” The word broke the spell between us, and judging by my train of thought, I should’ve been glad for the interruption. I turned to follow the voice, wincing when it meant I was wiggling again. Getting away from McCarthy’s intense look felt like sweet relief in itself, but the low chuckle right by my ear would follow me into my dreams that night.
Sitting next to Henry, Dude Guy hit Henry’s chest hard enough to get his attention, then nodded in my general direction.
“Isn’t it weird?” He sounded amused, but Henry’s smile fell as soon as he followed his teammate’s gaze. I looked anywhere but at my brother.
Right then, I was painfully aware of McCarthy. The fact I was still sitting on top of him, close enough for his breath to tickle my neck when he picked up his conversation with Caden again. It took all my willpower to focus on the voices on the other end of the table, instead of the sensations all over my body.
Dude Guy elaborated. “That McCarthy is dating your sister, I mean.”Thanks for the clarification.“I’d kill anyone at this table who tried—” He cut himself off, and my eyes flicked in their direction to see the guy throwing a threatening glare at no one in particular. “But my sister’s also sixteen, so...”
Henry’s eyes closed for a moment to gather his composure. He looked like he was about ready to commit murder himself. His eyes slid in our direction once more, a deadly glare in them. I shifted uncomfortably in my seat—wait, no. McCarthy’s lap. Goddamn it.
He drew in a sharp breath, head turning toward me. I wasn’t sure if he meant for his hold around my waist to tighten. But it did.
