Page 8 of Faking It Right
“Harley.” The exasperation in his voice was delicious.
“No? Too sci-fi? What about ancient spirits of star-crossed lovers possessed us to fulfill their unrequited passion?”
Ryker’s eye roll was practically audible. “Are you done?”
“Never.” A new idea struck me. “Oh, I know! We were partners in a dance competition?—”
“You have two left feet.”
“—and during the tango, our eyes locked, and we just knew.”
“My parents have seen you dance at family barbecues. They know you move like a drunk giraffe on roller skates.”
I gasped in mock offense. “How dare you? I’m graceful as fuck.”
“You knocked over an entire table of food trying to do the White Boy Shuffle last Fourth of July.”
“That was an artistic choice,” I defended, relishing the way the corner of his mouth twitched upward despite his irritation. “You can’t fault me for being committed to the bit.”
“How about this?” Ryker’s voice softened. “We live together, spend all our time together, and naturally fell for each other.”
I laughed, though it didn’t quite sound casual. "So basically, just us, but with benefits?"
“The best lies have elements of truth,” Ryker said, a smirk creeping into his tone.
I seized on the sudden opportunity. “Speaking of the truth, as your boyfriend, would you say I’m the best kisser you’ve ever had?”
The car swerved as Ryker jerked the steering wheel. “Fuck, Harley!”
I laughed, reveling in his startled reaction. “That good, huh? I knew it.”
“We haven’t kissed,” he pointed out, his cheeks flushing that delicious shade of pink I adored.
“Yet,” I corrected, letting my gaze linger on his lips. “But we probably should before we get there. You know, for authenticity’s sake.”
“We are not kissing for real.” Ryker’s throat worked as he swallowed. “I think we’ll manage without that.”
“Will we, though? What if your mom asks for details about our first kiss? What if she wants to see us kiss? We should practice.” I leaned closer, dropping my voice to a sultry whisper. “I promise I’ll make it unforgettable.”
“My mom won’t ask to see us kiss,” Ryker said firmly.
“Maybe not, but your sister definitely will. You know how Sawyer loves to put you on the spot.”
His grimace told me I’d hit the mark. Sawyer absolutely would demand proof of our relationship, if only to watch her brother squirm. He kept his eyes glued to the road, but the flush on his cheeks deepened. “Let’s focus on getting there first.”
“Whatever you say, snookums.”
Ryker groaned. “You can’t call me that.”
“Would you prefer ‘baby doll’ instead? Because that can be arranged.”
He huffed peevishly. “No.”
I settled back in my seat, unable to keep the grin off my face. “So, about our first date. I’m thinking we should say it was that time we went to that Italian place on Fourth Street.”
“We’ve been there dozens of times.”
“Exactly! But this time was special because I confessed my undying love for you over tiramisu.”
