Chapter 12 Amanda

Chapter 12

Amanda

The very worst part of being fake engaged to Dane is how much I’m starting to like him.

I can’t remember the last time I laughed so hard on a date.

The last time I lost myself in the moment with a man to the point that I forgot where I was with the desperate need to kiss him.

How much I didn’t want it to be so awkward when the kiss ended.

Sorry.

He apologized for kissing me.

What does that mean? That he wanted to kiss me but he didn’t want me to know he wanted to kiss me?

Or does it mean that he was only kissing me because I kissed him first and he was apologizing for not being into it?

And now we’re back at the cabin and we’re pretending everything is normal and that we didn’t just have an impulsive kiss on the lakeshore when I’m pretty sure the sun had dipped too low for anyone to actually see us kissing, despite my own insistence that the kiss was a good show for anyone watching?

“Shower’s all yours,” I tell him as I step into the living room after a quick shower that didn’t do anything to calm the rapid-fire questions in my head about our kiss. My hair is damp, and I’m in a light tank top and pajama shorts.

And my engagement ring.

I’m wearing my engagement ring too.

He’s turned on all the fans and opened all the windows to let in the rapidly cooling night air. Chili’s chilling on a blanket next to the couch. Dane’s shirtless, which is truly unfair of him, working on his laptop. He sets it aside and rises as I take a seat in the armchair next to the couch.

“Thanks,” he says.

Just thanks .

No I’m still thinking about that kiss too .

No we should have more fun while we’re pretending to be engaged .

No sorry I got carried away .

No this was a stupid idea, give me the ring back, I’m out, either, though.

Just thanks , and then he’s off to shower.

Without inviting me to join him.

Just like I didn’t invite him to join me when I went first in the shower.

He slips down the hallway, and I move to the floor to rub Chili’s fur. “You’re the best part about this situation,” I whisper to him.

He squints at me through one eye like he knows I’m lying.

Today was fun.

Not all of it. Definitely not all of it. Like Grandma being so mad about me being engaged to Dane.

Mom seems like she might come around first.

Especially after Dane fixed the mixer.

The town photo wasn’t the best.

Really could’ve done with that happening a week that I wasn’t home.

But starting the day with eggnog lattes with him? The swim in the lake? The trip to Grand Rapids? The date on the beach and the canoe ride?

Fun.

Yes. Definitely fun. Far more fun than having a fake fiancé should be.

Headlights flash through the window, and I leap to my feet.

Is someone dropping another letter?

Chili hardly moves.

I dash through the kitchen and out the back door, circling back against the house to see if I can catch a glimpse of—

Lorelei.

It’s not someone dropping off another letter. I’m not solving that mystery tonight by hiding on the side of the house and watching to see who’s either for or against us based on what another letter might say.

It’s Dane’s sister.

And she’s climbing out of her car on the small side gravel parking area, which means she’s likely headed to the front door.

Which opens into the living room.

Where Dane’s stuff is scattered about, making it clear we’re not sharing a bedroom.

Crap crap crap.

I retrace my steps, dashing through the kitchen door and back into the house.

Chili lifts his head, but he doesn’t bark at me.

Two options right now.

One, I let Lorelei in the house, and she sees that Dane’s stuff is all over the living room while he showers solo.

Or two—the option I take—is to race back to the bedroom.

Lorelei knocks at the door as I scurry down the hallway and into the bedroom.

Is the front door unlocked?

Would she let herself in?

Surely not.

If we don’t answer, she’ll assume we’re doing what fiancés do, and she’ll go away.

I think.

I hope.

I fling myself into the bedroom and instantly wish I hadn’t.

Dane left the bathroom door open.

He left the bathroom door open into the bedroom, and I can clearly see his outline against the fogged-up glass of the shower, and oh my holy big apple .

Walk away, Amanda.

Turn around.

Do not keep standing here.

I totally keep standing here.

Staring at the lean, dark-haired, broad-shouldered man who put an engagement ring on my finger, while he strokes his cock in the shower, his head thrust back, eyes closed, hair wet, hand jerking up and down over his impressive erection.

Turn around, I order myself again.

Problem is, I’ve never been the best of rule followers.

And oh my god .

My mouth is going dry. My nipples are buzzing. There’s a pull between my legs that hasn’t been prompted by a man in probably three years. At least.

Another loud knock pulls me out of my stupor.

I dash to the edge of the bathroom door, just out of sight, then angle in with my back to the door. “Dane,” I hiss, trying to send my voice his way without being too loud and also without getting caught watching him.

There’s a clunk , then a “Fuck!” from inside the bathroom.

“Your sister’s here,” I whisper.

The shower door audibly clicks open. At least, I think that’s what that noise was. “Amanda?” he says hoarsely.

Oh, god.

Was he thinking about me while he was stroking himself?

I hope so, and then I immediately tell myself to stop hoping so.

This is pretend.

He apologized for kissing me.

We’re not doing this for real. We’re not.

“Hi! Hey. Yes. Yes, it’s me,” I ramble, still hovering half-in, half-out of the doorway, facing the bedroom rather than him.

“What are you doing?”

“Your sister’s here.”

Silence.

More silence.

The loud kind of silence, I mean, where the water is pounding down in the shower and night bugs are chirping outside and where Dane isn’t saying anything.

It’s the ultimate white noise silence.

“I haven’t let her in,” I whisper. “I thought it would be better if she thought we were ... you know.”

If she thought we were doing together what I accidentally just saw you doing solo.

Is the window open?

Can she hear us?

Crap crap crap.

“Hello?” Lorelei calls from somewhere distant but still close enough that I spin and stare at the open bathroom window. She’s still outside. Likely still on the porch.

Would she circle the cabin looking for us?

Or would she leave if we don’t answer?

“Kill the lights,” Dane hisses.

The lights.

The lights.

What are the— the lights . Right.

I fumble for the switch and flick it, but not all the way, so the lights get caught in a blinking pattern that probably means my uncle should have the wiring checked in the cabin.

But then I hit it again, and this time, I plunge the room into total darkness.

Except for the lights coming in from the bedroom and the shaft of porch light streaming through the bathroom window, which are illuminating Dane in all his glory.

“Get in here and shut the door,” he says.

He’s still hoarse.

He’s still sporting a very impressive hard-on, which I try just as hard to not look at, but it’s kind of unmissable.

Even without full bathroom lights on.

Just holy hell .

Have I ever been this affected by a penis?

Likely.

Just not for a long time.

“Should we make ... noises?” I ask.

“Shut the window.”

It’s the first time in the past two days that he’s been abrupt with me.

Hey, Dane, people think we’re engaged. Okay, cool.

My mom wants to know where my ring is. I’ll get you one.

I just watched you rubbing one out in the shower and we probably both know it. This has gone too far.

I leap to the window and wriggle it closed. It groans and creaks, which Lorelei can likely hear, but maybe she’ll think one of us makes really weird noises when we’re having sex.

And now I’m thinking about having sex.

With Dane.

My hometown BFF’s brother.

My pretend fiancé.

And it’s not just the shower steam heating up the bathroom.

Can’t be, actually. There’s not a lot of it, and if Dane’s anything like me, his shower tonight is on the cooler side to compensate for the heat of the day.

The dunk in the lake helped, but not enough once we dragged the canoe out of it and helped Chili back up to the cabin.

Much better.

Much, much better.

Think about a wet dog.

Not about Dane naked.

I slide a glance at him.

He’s turned his back on me and ducked back into the shower.

“I didn’t see anything,” I lie.

“Not like I have anything you haven’t seen before,” he replies.

I think.

He’s talking into the showerhead, and I’m trying to not stare at his perfect ass cheeks.

“I didn’t want to let Lorelei in while it’s clear someone’s sleeping on the couch.”

“Good call.”

He doesn’t invite me into the shower with him.

I don’t ask to join him.

And as I’m thinking this can’t get any worse, my phone dings loudly with an incoming text message. The sound echoes around the room.

Dane doesn’t turn back to look at me. Instead, he keeps scrubbing his head under the flow of water.

I glance at my phone.

The preview tells me Lorelei stopped by to ask if we wanted to participate in the ... and then I can’t see any more of the message.

But if I check the message and she sees I checked the message, she’ll know I wasn’t having sex with her brother.

And now I’m thinking about Dane naked again.

It’s going to be a long, long, long night.