Page 66 of Lessons in Faking
“So your parents let her drink,” I whispered to McCarthy as I nodded at the glass of wine in Dakota’s hand. He was sitting next to me, but I was fully focused on his sisters’ ongoing argument.
Dakota’s eyes narrowed at her older sister. “Are you kidding me? Denise, how could you disregard ‘Would’ve, Could’ve, Should’ve’? ‘Give me back my girlhood, it was mine first’?” she sang, off-key. “Seriously?”
I snorted, finally turning away from them when Denise sighed and said, “You’re sixteen, Dakota. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
McCarthy nodded when I looked at him. “Only when she’s around Mom. And nothing hard. Just beer, wine... that kind of stuff. Makes it much less appealing once you’re off to college, I can tell you that much,” he added.
I couldn’t look away from the smile that tugged at the corners of his lips. I don’t think I wanted to. “I love them,” I admitted, fully turning to face him. “I can’t help it.”
Another laugh. “I’m sure they love you too.”
“You think?”
“I know.”
I think something broken and shriveled up inside of me was healing around them. Something that wasn’t used tobig families, drama-free gatherings, and arguing over Taylor Swift’s top ten songs. When was the last time I’d been around something like that? The thought should’ve been sad—I expected it to be, at least—but I smiled brightly, stomach fluttering when McCarthy matched it.
God, he was a great distraction. McCarthy could distract me just by talking about the goddamn weather. Anything beyond that—his hands on me, lips on mine, bodies pressed against each other’s—would probably leave me feeling blissful for the rest of the fucking week. No matter which one it was.
That alone sparked something in me. A little fire that, if I wasn’t careful, would turn into an inferno so quickly that I wouldn’t even notice at first. As soon as I remembered the way he felt against me, the way he sounded, I couldn’t stop. I still had a contract to break. A game to win. “Dylan?”
He straightened as if electrocuted by my voice and the way those five letters sounded coming from my mouth. “Hm?” he asked, blinking down at me, probably trying not to let his eyes wander to the hand I’d just placed on his thigh.
“Wine makes me sleepy,” I lied, holding eye contact.
“Does it?” His lip quirked. “Even just half a glass? Two hours ago?”
I nodded. “It’s white wine,” I explained, like that made all the difference. When I leaned in for the final blow, my mouth right by his ear, goose bumps formed across his neck. His head turned to confirm the rest of his familywas still occupied, but that only made it easier to brush my lips across his skin.
I placed a single kiss below his ear. He sucked in a breath. “You know where to find me,” I murmured. “If you change your mind about that contract you want to honor so badly.”
It was past midnight, and I was greeted with a chorus of “sleep well” from McCarthy’s siblings as I headed upstairs. I couldn’t help the victorious smirk when I heard him say, “Excuse me,” less than a minute later.
“Going to bed?” I asked from the top of the staircase he was climbing. “Seems like a silly coincidence, doesn’t it?”
He jumped two stairs at a time until he stood on the step below me. I still had to look up. “Let’s call it that. A silly coincidence.”
“I’ve got another one.” I shifted closer, rested my hands against his chest. His breath faltered as my fingertips slid up his body, then behind his neck, my arms crossing.
“Oh yeah?” he rasped.
The words flushed my cheeks with heat, and something deep in my stomach twisted before uncoiling in relief as I finally overcame the hair’s breadth between us. I swallowed his sigh of similar relief when his lips pressed against mine, eager and curious.
“What’s the other coincidence?” he asked between one kiss and the next, moving us away from the staircase. My back flattened against the wall behind me.
“A room down the hall, with a bed so big—” Before I finished my sentence, I tugged him back down to me bythe collar of his shirt. Even with his lips back on mine and my legs wobbling with need, we made it to that room in what felt like a heartbeat.
We only separated once the piano bench dug into the back of my legs. I stumbled onto it.
My eyes lifted up... and up and up, until they connected with his.
“I’m—” He cut himself off, like the past few minutes were as much of a blur to him as they were to me, and he wasn’t quite sure how we’d ended up in this position.
Almost level with his crotch, I couldn’t help slipping a finger below the waistband of his pants. Just lingering. “Did you change your mind?” I asked, embarrassingly hopeful. “About the contract? About honoring it?”
A bolt of realization flashed across his features. “I want you to know this,” he said firmly, crouching down to my level. “I might’ve started this little game, but I never claimed I’d win. I never said you couldn’t get me to lose, just by looking at me for a little too long. There’s nothing...”
He overcame his hesitance by taking my face in his hands, holding me gently.
