“I guess I was hungry,” I said around a mouthful of eggs.
“I’ll say.” She stood and headed for the bedroom, a smile on her lips. “I’m going to get ready.” She dragged her hand acrossmy shoulder. It was just a whisper of a touch, so light I wondered if I’d imagined it. Even so, my mind lingered on it as I finished eating.
And by the time I was done with breakfast, I was no closer to figuring out what her touch or her comment about self-care meant, if anything. It was probably nothing, but it felt noteworthy. Maybe because she’d initiated it? Maybe because she’d done so when no one was around and it wouldn’t benefit our fake-dating arrangement.
“Ready?” Bryn called.
I stood and turned to face her. “Just need to grab my…”Damn.
I tried to stop myself from swallowing my tongue because she looked edible. Her sand-colored crocheted dress gave the most tantalizing glimpses of a hot-pink-and-fuchsia swimsuit and bare, smooth, golden skin. It didn’t hurt that she was wearing my baseball hat and a sexy little smirk.
“Just need to grab…?” She placed her hand on her hip, clearly enjoying my reaction. She was a damn snack, and it made me happy to see her feeling confident and sexy. Because she was, and she deserved to feel that.
“My hat.” I plucked it off her head. “Thank you.” I placed it on my own. “And sunglasses,” I said, breezing past her.
I crouched down to grab my sunglasses from my bag. She leaned over me, draping her arms over my shoulders from behind. And then the little thief tried to steal my hat again. My Dartmouth hat. Myfavoritehat.
“Nice try, cheeky girl.” I stood, spinning quickly and grabbing her waist. And then I tickled her sides.
She laughed and tried to counterattack. I removed my hat and shoved it in my waistband. She jumped, and I wrapped my arms around her thighs, hefting her up onto my back before she could try again. “Now, let’s go before we miss our ride.”
She squealed, clinging to me as I headed for the door. “Giddy up, cowboy.”
I chuckled. “You know what they say about cowboys and their hats.”
“Wear the hat, ride the cowboy.” She pretended to swing a lasso. “Yeehaw!”
I mimed tipping an imaginary cowboy hat. “That’s right, angel.”
She laughed, and the sound was light and free. “I guess it’s too bad you’re not a real cowboy, then.” I reached the door, and then she said, “Oh, wait. My bag!”
I turned back and grabbed it, throwing it over my arm. I loved seeing this playful, flirty side to her. I was glad that she seemed much lighter today. Happier.
I carried her down the boardwalk, reveling in the feel of her thighs beneath my palms. She was so strong yet soft, and last night’s burlesque act had shown just how well she could blend the two. Touching her now only made me want to explore more of her curves.
Friend. What she needs is a friend.
When we reached the lobby, Bryn’s mom laughed at the sight of us. I set Bryn down, and she stole my baseball hatagainand placed it on her head. She looked good—wearing my hat and that smile. I almost didn’t want to try to take it back from her, but I was enjoying the game too much. And I got the feeling she was too.
I planted my feet, arms crossed over my chest. “Yeah. I don’t think so.” I made a come-hither motion, but she didn’t budge.
I took a few steps toward her, eating up the distance between us. “Come here.” I snagged my arms around her waist, pulling her to me.
Her chest brushed against mine, and I tried to pin her arms behind her back. She laughed, struggling against me. It was hotand playful, and fuck, if I didn’t love it. But I also wanted to know what it meant to Bryn and where we actually stood. We’d definitely need to talk about it at some point.
Only then did I realize we were drawing the attention of some of the other guests.
Fuck it.
For once, I didn’t care. Not if it meant getting to see Bryn let loose like she was.
I grabbed her wrists, clasping them behind her back. She could escape my hold at any time, but judging from the way her eyes darkened, she didn’t want to. Her chest was rising and falling, and then she licked her lips.Fuck me.
How was I supposed to be her friend when her body was broadcasting her desire for more? For me?
I leaned down and rasped, “I may not be a cowboy. But if you want to wear the hat, you’ve gotta pay the price.”
“Is that so?” she asked, a slight uptick at the corner of her lips.
