Page 78 of Lessons in Faking
Chapter 33
Henry’s apology came with a string of consequences I did not expect.
Firstly, another hug. Third time’s the charm, right?
I didn’t mind that as much as the thought of Dylan, and the way my chest tightened at what this whole conversation with Henry meant for us. That there was no need for anusanymore.
I should have been celebrating my victory: I got Henry toapologize. I wasn’t forced to date Dylan anymore. My life could go back to normal.
It had to go back to normal.
In an effort to stabilize our relationship, my brother’s first good deed was to give me Dylan’s address... very, very reluctantly. And he’d barely been out the door before I slipped into the one pair of black boots I didn’t have to unlace to get in and out of, and the first coat I saw—neither matching the rest of my outfit. Then I shouted a goodbye to Wren and left. I didn’t even bring an umbrella.
I rehearsed what I’d say to him on the way.
Just came by to say we can stop pretending to like each other now. Henry apologized, so we can end this whole thing and go our separate ways. Thanks for two great orgasms. Sorry I won’t get to return them! I really would’ve liked to.
“Athalia?”
My heart pounded in my chest as I stood on the porch of the house he shared with two of his teammates, Blake and Caden. Soaked to the bones, wet hair stringy against my face, I blinked up at him. “Dylan,” I breathed.
Apparently, I hadn’t rehearsed well enough. My mind was blank—a white room with nothing inside. Nothing but him. And the gray sweatpants hanging low on his waist, V disappearing in them. Plus, the fact he wasn’t wearing a shirt. There was a definite scent of toothpaste lingering between us.
I shivered, not sure whether it was due to the sight of him or the wet clothes clinging to me like glue.
“Jesus.” He ushered me inside the house and closed the door behind us. “Did youwalkhere, Athalia?” He peeled me out of my wet coat, and the gesture made me realize I didn’t plan to stay long—
“Henry apologized,” I blurted.
McCarthy stilled, like he knew what it meant. Then he hung my coat on the rack and said, “Didn’t know he had it in him.”
I dripped onto his floors. My boots left size-seven prints of mud and water in his entrance, and I was pretty sure I stood in a puddle that had formed inside of them. Thelook he threw over his shoulder still heated every part of my body.
I needed to end this.Now.
Well on my way to developing pneumonia, I shouldn’t be feeling warm and fuzzy. I’d gotten everything I wanted out of our arrangement, but I still wanted him.
“Which means we can...” But I chickened out, trailed off.
He turned to face me fully. “Yes.” Then he went down on his knees and forced the air right out of my lungs. Dylan got to work on the laces of my left boot, taking his time when I could’ve easily wiggled out of them. Despite not finishing my sentence, I knew he understood when he said, “It seems that’s what it means.”
His fingers curled around my calf, and my pulse skyrocketed. I felt his touch scorch me through the thick denim of my jeans. He gently guided one foot out of my boot and then repeated the same thing with the other. I gasped softly when his finger grazed my bare skin while untying it.
Rising back up to his full height, he leaned out of the front door to dump the water on his porch, then set my boots below the heater behind me. The only sound, when he stood right in front of me again, was my heart beating a thousand miles a minute.
“And what about it?” he asked.
What about the apology?
At the very least, there was the fact there was no need for any kind of relationship between us at all. I had gottenwhat I wanted, and Dylan had never wanted anything out of this in the first place.Not really.So there was no point in pretending anymore.
I could’ve easily brought it all up. I could’ve said,Look, McCarthy, you don’t have to hang out with me anymore. No more fake-dating necessary! This is a good thing. Yay!
I didn’t.
“Hm?” The deep hum in his voice was all I needed to solidify a decision I’d unconsciously made somewhere between orgasm number one and two. Somewhere between that time he’d call megood girland when he’d calmed me after a panic attack.
I shook my head.
