Page 30 of Movers and Fakers

Mckinleigh’s saccharine sunny expression darkens at my outburst.

“I don’t know why he settled for you,” she sneers. “You can’t be what he needs.”

Hayes rounds a corner. His saunter falters when he spots Mckinleigh.

“I don’t have to be,” I reply calmly, and level her with my gaze. “Because I’m who he wants.”

Mckinleigh glares. Hayes appears at the end of the table. I tip my head back and take in his wide-eyed expression. His auburn locks are windswept, and his expression is a little flushed, like he might have jogged here.

“You’re late.”

He shoots me an apologetic smile, then bends down and presses a kiss to my forehead, making me stiffen. Tingles cascade from the top of my head over the back of my neck, causing goose bumps to prickle my skin.

“I’m sorry. I was helping a friend.” He glances at Mckinleigh. “What’s going on here?”

“Mckinleigh invited me to a party, but now that I’ve refused, I’m sure she’ll be on her way,” I explain.

She sniffs with disdain but pushes back from the table.

“I’ll see you around.”

It sounds like a threat, but I’m not afraid of her in the least. Her jabs during our conversation were weak and not thought through. I nod to her, and she stomps away, drawing the eyes of others in the library.

Hayes takes the seat she was occupying. The brown long-sleeved shirt he’s wearing makes his green eyes stand out more, the gold in them catching the light of the window next to us.

“I’m sorry,” he says again. “One of my friends needed a ride after sparring practice, and I got stuck in traffic.” He shakes his head. “I didn’t think she’d corner you like that.”

“You might have a stalker after all,” I remark dryly.

“All the more reason to keep this up,” he replies with a half laugh.

The reminder of our relationship makes my stomach tighten up again.

“We should talk rules, or something like that,” I stammer.

He rakes a hand through his hair. “Yeah, that makes sense. Did you have something in mind?”

Every thought in my head vanishes at his words. Heat creeps up my neck. I’ve never been in a regular relationship. How am I supposed to give boundaries for a fake one?

“No kissing,” I blurt out, then wince as his eyebrows shoot up.

Very subtle, Aurora.

I criticized Mckinleigh for not thinking before she spoke, and now look at me.

“Should I have not kissed your forehead?” he asks, and the sincerity in his voice surprises me. “I thought it would sell things more, but I probably should have talked to you first.”

My head is shaking before my thoughts are fully formed. I think I left my brain out in front of the library. I should go get it before finishing this conversation.

“No, I just meant—” I cut off, my face hotter than a Georgia summer.

How do I tell him—without utterly embarrassing myself—that I don’t want to kiss on the lips? It sounds so childish.

Realization sweeps over his features, which then gives way to a smirk that makes my stomach swoop.

“I see. You don’t want us to really kiss, because you’re afraid I’ll ruin every one you have from then on. No one else could compare.” He sits back in his seat. “Don’t worry, I won’t kiss you unless you ask me to.”

A switch flips inside of me, taking me from nervous to angry at breakneck speed. I glare at him.