Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 101214 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 506(@200wpm)___ 405(@250wpm)___ 337(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101214 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 506(@200wpm)___ 405(@250wpm)___ 337(@300wpm)
My feet are still dangling a few inches from the ground when I grunt, “All right, you can put me down now. The deal is done. For the short term, I’ll pretend to be your girlfriend. And you’ll model for me.”
Carefully, Brayden sets me on my heels. The smile that dances across his face somehow makes him even more handsome. My belly trembles in response and I find myself taking a hasty step in retreat in order to put some distance between us. As much as I hate to acknowledge the truth, even to myself, Brayden Kendricks is way too good looking for his own good. Mine as well. Over the years, I’ve done my best to tamp down any attraction from sparking to life between us and causing any more unwanted problems. He’s the one guy I refuse to mess with.
You know what they say—once bitten, twice shy?
That’s become my mantra when it comes to the hot football player.
I wince.
Damn.
Brayden might be all kinds of sexy, but I don’t want to think of him along those lines. It’ll only mess with my head. Probably other parts of me as well.
And that, I don’t need.
“In order for this to work, this little agreement needs to stay between the two of us,” he says, cutting into my thoughts.
Once every last bit of desire has been ruthlessly stomped out, I glance away and force a puff of air from my lips. “Oh, come on. Is that really necessary?”
“You know how it is around here,” he insists. “Gossip travels at the speed of light. You tell one person a secret and suddenly everyone on this damn campus is talking about it.”
Well, he’s not wrong about that. Although, it’s not like I’m going to broadcast it to the entire soccer team. There’s only one person I’d shared this with, and that’s Demi. Who would she tell?
Okay...so maybe she’d blab this little bit of ridiculousness to Rowan. I’m sure they’re at that stage of their relationship where they tell each other everything. But it’s not like he’d open his mouth to anyone else...
All right...I see what he means.
“Fine,” I reluctantly agree. “Can we head back downstairs now?” If I’d been craving a drink when I walked through the front door earlier, it’s even more so now. I need something that’s going to make me forget that I just signed a pact with the devil.
More than that, I need to get away from Brayden so I can regain my equilibrium. Even if we’re pretending to be a couple, it’s not like we’ll be joined at the hip, right?
Exactly. He can go one way, and I’ll go the other. If people question the status of our relationship, I’ll answer in the affirmative and that’ll be the end of it. Two weeks from now—three at the most—we will quietly part ways. We’ll uncouple as quietly as one of the Kardashians. It’s not like they make a big deal out of these things, right?
If I’m lucky, Brayden’s overzealous fangirl will lose interest before then and I can go on my merry little way even sooner. Yup, it’ll all work out in the end. There’s no need to get my panties in a twist.
“Not quite yet. Let’s give it a few more minutes.”
I frown and reach for the handle. “Why can’t we just leave?” I’m tired of being stuck in this tiny room with him. I need out.
Now.
With a slight frown, he glances at his phone before shoving it back into his pocket. “We’ve only been up here for ten minutes. Give it a bit more time.”
I don’t understand what his problem is. “Brayden,” I snap, “what’s the hold up?”
“Look, I can’t have people thinking that I pop off like a shot. It would damage my rep, if you know what I mean.”
My mouth falls open. I really hope he’s not serious. Unfortunately, I can tell by his earnest expression that he is.
When I fail to respond—because, really, what am I supposed to say—he points to the mini fridge situated in the corner of his room. “How about I get you a cold beverage to enjoy while we wait?”
I blink. Holy shit, this guy is offering me a drink until an appropriate amount of time has passed for us to engage in make believe sex. That realization is all it takes for a heavy wave of regret to crash over me. Is it too late to back out of this stupid arrangement?
“I’ve got water, Gatorade, lime La Croix, and a few Diet Cokes for the ladies.” He gives me a wink.
“I’ll take a water,” I say through thinned lips.
As soon as he swings around, hunkering down to peer in the fridge, I grab the handle, rip the door open, and stalk into the hallway before slamming it shut so it rattles on its hinges.