Page 48 of About That Rule

Right. This was all pretend to him.

“How are we going to explain our grand exit from Charlotte and Rafe’s wedding?”

Nate looked up at the ceiling for a minute, his hands still holding her jawline softly. “How about we make a joke about it, like you lost a bet or something?”

“Just a drunk moment.”

“A quick little argument.”

“It meant nothing.” Which was par for the course for them as it was.

Nate kissed her forehead before standing up. “Exactly. No big deal.”

With that, he started packing up the room. “When I check out, I can take you home if you want.”

“Sure,” she agreed, falling back onto the bed.

It was official. This was the oddest morning after of her life. And she wasn’t sure how it was going to get better for her and Nate.

BLUR THE LINES.

What a bunch of bullshit. The look on Sammy’s face, the confusion and nervousness, he would have said anything to calm her down—to make sure she understood he would never not be her best friend. He’d never leave her side.

The whole blur the lines comment had only been to put her at ease. He stomped around the hotel room, smashing all his clothes into his suitcase. It was like the idea of commitment to him, outside of friendship, was enough to make her lose her cool. He stepped into the bedroom area of the room and saw Samantha lying on the bed.

Fuck, he could tell she was upset.

He would do anything for her.

Anything. Regardless of the final outcome of what happened in Vegas, Samantha was a constant in his life, and that was never going to change.

He had to stop acting like some caveman and get it together. Because he’d told her the truth. They would always be best friends.

Nate sat on the bed. She hadn’t moved since he’d started packing. Her mind was probably on auto drive, freaking herself out. Perhaps a push to get packed would help her relax. “I’m almost packed. Did you want to go to your room and get your stuff?”

She sat up. “Luckily, I don’t have to pack since I stayed here, but I’d love to change. If someone sees me leaving the hotel doing the walk of shame, our story of last night being a silly bet won’t be believable.”

Oh, yes, another lie they were telling everyone.

It was never-ending.

“How about you go to your room and we meet in the lobby in thirty-minutes?” he suggested.

Not to sound like an asshole, but some time away from her was needed, even if it was only thirty-minutes. The space wasn’t just for him, she needed it too.

“That works!” she said hastily, grabbing her shoes. Before he knew it, she was out the door.

Once the door shut, he muttered, “Fuck,” and sat in a random chair in the room. Instead of thinking of ways to solve the million problems brewing with Samantha, he closed his eyes and let the memory of last night take residence. Not that he would tell her, but the sex had been so hot, he jerked off to what it had been like fucking her last night. All before he had to meet her in the hotel lobby.