The Problem With Pretending Read Online Emma Hart

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Funny Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 126850 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 634(@200wpm)___ 507(@250wpm)___ 423(@300wpm)
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I wouldn’t regret it, but I knew she might.

And I didn’t want her to regret it.

I didn’t want her to regret me. It was selfish, but true.

Grace moved again, and I swallowed the lump in my throat. She shuffled across the bed until her back was pressed against mine and I could smell her shampoo as her hair spread across the pillows.

I didn’t move a muscle, waiting to see if she’d move away again.

She didn’t.

My fingers twitched with the need to reach out and touch her, and before I knew what I was doing, I was rolling over onto my other side. I slid one arm under her neck and nestled my body against hers, tucking her into me, and she pushed one foot between mine in a small embrace.

She leant up, reached back, and swept her hair around so it wasn’t in my face, then snuggled in closer to me. Her fingertips brushed my arm as she brought the covers under her chin, and a small sigh escaped her lips.

I tilted my face into her hair, pressing my lips softly against her hairline at the back of her neck. She shivered, and her whole body shook against mine for a second, and I smiled.

“Stop smiling,” she whispered, pressing herself further against me, wriggling as she did.

“Stop wriggling, or you won’t be smiling,” I whispered right back, feeling my cock harden again.

She stilled. “If you tell anyone about this, I’m going to kill you.”

“What? That you do, in fact, like spooning?” My lips brushed her skin with every word I spoke. “Your secret is safe with me.”

“Good.” She snuggled in again, yawning. “Go to sleep.”

“You’re the one who keeps talking.”

“Oh, piss off.”

I stifled a laugh and twisted my head so I could breathe properly without nostrils full of her hair, and we both fell into an easy silence. Her breathing deepened, slowing, long before mine did.

How was I supposed to sleep like this?

With her here in my arms? So close to me? Nestled against me like she was made to mould herself against every shape of my body?

I wasn’t.

I wasn’t supposed to sleep like this.

Great.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT – GRACE

Good Morning

It was cliché, but William’s erection was the first thing I felt as sleep slowly cleared from my brain. We were in a similar position to how we’d fallen asleep last night, just with his arm over the covers instead of under them, and my legs had shifted at some point, along with both our arms stretching out to the other side of the bed.

I guess I’d knocked away the one he had under my neck during the night.

Freedom and all that.

But now, as sun streamed in through the crack in the curtains, I was more than a little aware of the prodding against my bum cheeks.

Well, at least he really wasn’t lying about being attracted to me.

Not that I had any reason to doubt that he was. Since he’d kissed me yesterday, it’d been nothing but affection from him, even when I saw that he was trying to consciously stop himself.

I thought I’d mind, but I didn’t. In fact, I liked it. I liked the feeling of his hand on my lower back, of his fingertips brushing the back of my hand, of little touches to my shoulder to toy with a lock of my hair.

It’d been especially helpful last night after dinner. We’d been bombarded with questions, and although I felt equipped to handle them, I’d still been extremely nervous.

What if I’d messed up? What if I confused the lies? What if I told one person one story and their sister another? It was entirely possible, and that was the problem with lying—you spun a wicked web, but it was a weak web.

The lies all wove together into something shiny and special, but one wrong move and it would shatter.

That’s where I was now. Could we keep this up for one more night? Especially with people I knew were my friends—and his, too, I supposed. We could play it off as something we’d kept secret until now, but then we’d have to orchestrate a breakup to a wider circle of people than I’d thought.

It was hitting me how much of a bad idea this had been. Our circles were so intertwined, and although I hadn’t known that to begin with, staying had been a dreadful decision. I should have left as soon as I found out who he was.

It would have been easier in so, so many ways.

I wouldn’t be feeling like this, that was for sure. I wouldn’t be content to be curled up against him while he slept, feeling his heavy exhales warmly dance across my skin. I wouldn’t be so comfortable being held by him, being touched a thousand times, being kissed in the dreamiest of ways.

We had two and a half days left of this charade, and then it would be back to real life.


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