Page 63 of Rory Rides Her Fake Fiancé
I run my tongue over my teeth, a conscious move this time. Morgan says he’s attracted to me, that my teeth don’t bother him.
But that’s what my ex-girlfriend said too. She called me hot at first. And then it was teasing little remarks. Jokes in private. Then jokes in public. Then jokes that everyone laughed at but me.
I shoulder my door open and dump the toys on the bed. They’re mine, not ours.
Morgan
* * *
I clock Rory leaving while my friends throw out guesses as to who could be the Secret Santa of Smut, and I hope that’s not the end of the night. I want to get back to where we were before my brother stole my package and threw a box of sex toys at my door. I want Rory to know that whatever flaws she thinks she has, her teeth aren’t one.
Rory may be prickly and stubborn, but beneath that exterior is someone who I see is lonely. It hasn’t escaped my attention that she’s never once mentioned a friend, and all the pictures she’s brought with her, now scattered around my house, are of her and her grandmother.
When I tap the end call button, the house goes quiet. My toys are still out on the counter so I gather them up and take them to my room, passing Rory’s open door on the way. After dropping the goodies on my bed, I return to the open door.
She’s lying in bed on her phone, Princess curled up behind her knees. See? My dog loves her. And everyone knows dogs are a good judge of character.
There’s a suitcase on the floor, the main compartment open and clothes neatly folded up. It crosses my mind for a moment that maybe the kiss was too much, and she wants to pack her things and move out, but then I remember that it’s Monday and she’s probably just hitting the road in the van tomorrow. I cross my arms and lean against the doorframe. “Are you all right?”
“Fine.” Her word is clipped, and then, like she thinks better of it, she drops her phone onto the comforter and shifts slightly onto her back.
I’m going to take it as an invitation.
Not a big one. But just enough.
I step forward. Princess’s tail whacks against the bed and Rory’s gaze follows me. I plant a hand on the headboard and reach the other down to give Princess a tiny butt scratch before I fist it on the bed.
Rory’s staring up at me, eyes wide.
“I’m not quite tired yet, so I’ll probably watch some TV before bed. You want to watch with me?”
She shakes her head. “I’m out of here at six tomorrow.”
“All right. I’ll be quiet.” I smile at her and purposefully look at her mouth.
Her lips tighten, compressing in an automatic reaction to my attention. I wait a beat and watch as Rory’s eyes dart around my face. Then she relaxes, starting at the curled fist I can see halfway under the pillow and ending at her lips, which soften and part for me.
I dip my head and kiss her. It’s gentle and slow and I’m not sure whose tongue moves first but then we’re kissing deep and languid, our breaths matching.
The temptation to move, to put my hand to her cheek and cup her jaw and lie on top of her, gets too strong and I back away.
Rory needs time to see that I’m serious about her. She needs to see our interactions as I see them—not insincere flirting and an ingrained instinct to charm, but genuine interest in a woman I find completely, utterly fascinating.
I let my nose just barely graze hers before I whisper, “Good night, Rory,” and remove myself from temptation.
I wake up the next morning resolved to deal with my brother and my mom. Rory’s van is gone, the cat is in hiding, and the afternoon stretches in front of me before I go open the bar. Even with Princess’s bubbly presence, I wish Rory were here. The floodgates are open and I want to spend all day kissing her.
Instead, after eating dinner and walking Princess, I text my brother.
Graham
Don’t come to my house again or I’ll call the cops.
Give me the car back and I’ll leave you alone.
You stole from me.
We bought the car fair and square. That was a good price for the work it needs. Do you have the money you owe me?
