Page 40 of Weddings, Revenge & Fake Dating

I clutch the comforter.

Nathan towels off his face and leans into the mirror. I’m waiting for him to shut the door and cut me off from his peep show. Instead, he begins to drag off his boxer jocks.

Too loudly, I suck in a breath. This time, I do close my eyes. Tight. The tightest tight they can possibly close. What I’m doing is wrong. Very wrong.

“I know you’re awake,” Nathan says from the bathroom.

I pretend to snore.

“Nice try.” He throws something soft in my direction. “You stopped breathing when I took off my shirt.”

When his voice nears, I sit upright, revealing myself from beneath the mounds of pillows. My hands completely cover my beet-red face.

“It’s not my fault you stripped in front of me,” I say into my cupped palms.

“I told you earlier I’d show you my T&A to make us even.”

I remain unmoved, my eyes hidden. Did he lure me?

“You can look. I’m ready,” he says.

My hands fall away, and I’m prepared to scold him for messing with me, but then I stop mid-word because he lied.

It is not safe.

Or did he say I’m ready? I can’t remember. Regardless, nothing about this interaction is safe. If he were closer, I would immediately break the one and only rule I made for myself.

No touching.

In a beam of sunlight, Nathan reveals the sun, the moon, and his entire universe of godlike qualities. They’re unlike anything I’ve ever imagined. His hands latch on his hips as he stands at the foot of the bed—gloriously naked except for one very important part. And right now, that erect part is acting as a hanger for a hand towel embroidered with the hotel’s name.

I blink. Then blink again.

I try to speak but neither my brain nor my mouth can form words. I try hand gestures, but by all accounts, they signal nothing. Perhaps I should add no looking to my list of cohabitation rules?

True to form, Nathan uses the time to turn in a circle, his arms spread wide. He’s completely confident. My head retracts as my eyes widen at his profile. His member angles like a flagpole proudly flying his Adonis flag.

He pivots to reveal his bare and perfect ass.

“So, you’ve done the fanny facial a few times?” I angle my head and stare.

Nathan has muscles I didn’t know existed. Chiseled indents look like an artist molded them. Michelangelo’s David has nothing on him. In fact, if his ass were a book, some misguided soul might try to ban and then burn it. It’s that threatening.

“I need to look good for my job.” He makes his butt bounce one energetic cheek at a time.

I yelp with laughter and cover my mouth.

“Mission accomplished.” I nod into the shield of my hand while giving him a thumbs-up.

He turns to the front again, and my gaze drops to my twiddling thumbs.

“You’re a man of your word. Thank you for sharing. Though, I don’t think it was an even trade. You got this.” I gesture toward myself in sleepy mode with a wrinkled nose. “I got that.” I glance at his package with my eyes squinted and make a wax-on, wax-off gesture with my hand. “Nope. Not the same. Not even on the same continent.”

“Jeanie, in all seriousness, if you saw what I’m looking at right now, you’d know it was me who got the better deal.”

I look up in shock and find him strutting into the bathroom. He steps into the glass shower and turns on the water. I tilt my head with bewilderment.

Did he really say that?