Home > Faking It (Losing It #2)(27)

Faking It (Losing It #2)(27)
Author: Cora Carmack

Oh holy Hell, I was dreaming. I’d just put the moves on him in my sleep! I covered my mouth with my hand and racked my brain to try to remember if I’d said anything that would give me away.

When the shock wore off, I let my hand drop to my chest, where my fingertips touched bare skin.

I looked down and had to resist the urge to scream.

I WAS NAKED.

Like, gave him a look at my full-tree tattoo, naked.

Like, curl into the fetal position and die of mortification, naked.

I jerked the covers from my waist up to my chin. Beside me, Cade let out a long breath, and his shoulders relaxed.

As calmly as possible I asked, “What is going on?”

Inside, I was anything but calm. Only a sheet and a few measly articles of clothing on his part separated me from him, and my mind was still fogged with dream-induced desire. And to be honest, I was a little offended that he managed to look away.

A small, crazy part of me wanted to drop the sheet again and see how long his resolve could last. Cade pushed himself to his feet, and moved all the way across the room.

He said, “I knocked, but you didn’t answer. I was outside, and I heard you groan. It sounded like you were hurt or sick.” He looked back at me, and now I knew how he’d managed to look away from me . . . guilt. He hadn’t even done anything wrong! I was the one having pervy dreams about him, and I didn’t feel the least bit guilty. He said, “I swear, the door was unlocked, so I came in to check on you. I swear, I wasn’t trying anything. I’m sorry.”

I wondered if I dropped the sheet now if he would try something. My body was wound so tight, I felt like I’d been dangling off the edge of a cliff for hours. And I wanted him to try something. I shook my head. I was so turned on that just the brush of the sheets against my chest made my breath catch in my throat.

No. Bad Max. You’re with Mace. Focus.

I must have forgotten to set my alarm before I went to bed.

The alarm had been important, but for the life of me, I couldn’t remember the reason. I looked at Cade, and his eyes focused on the sheet fisted in my hands and held in front of my chest. A chill ran down my back, raising goose bumps. I shifted and may have turned my bare back toward him slightly. I saw his eyes go to the curve of my spine, and he swallowed.

The devil made me do it.

And by devil, I mean my uterus.

He took a step toward me, and I smiled gleefully for a few seconds.

Then I remembered why my alarm had been so important . . . and why he was even here.

Thanksgiving.

Thanksgiving plus my parents.

Thanksgiving plus my parents plus me naked in a room with Cade.

That equaled disaster.

My seduction plan forgotten, I slid off the bed, careful to keep the sheet wrapped around my body. “Shit. What time is it?”

He pulled his phone out of his pocket. “Almost nine.”

SHIT.

Right on cue, the buzzer on my apartment rang. I heard my mother call through the door. “Mackenzie, sweetie!”

And then, because I was the dumbass who couldn’t remember to lock her apartment, I heard the door swing open, followed by another “Sweetie?”

It was like one of those God-awful zombie movies, where you can hear them coming and you have nowhere to go. You just have to make peace with getting your brain eaten.

Mom was the zombie, and if she walked in here to find me naked with a boy, even a Golden Boy, both our brains would end up barbecued.

“Um, just a second, Mom!”

Shit. I went to run my hands through my hair, but forgot I was holding a sheet, which then slipped.

Cade made a noise in the back of his throat, and turned away. My hormone-riddled body really liked that sound, but this was not the time!

Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.

I must have uttered at least one of those out loud because Cade said, “It’s okay. I’ll go out and talk with them while you get ready.”

“You don’t understand! If you come out of my room, and then I go take a shower, my parents are going to assume you and I are sleeping together.”

“So don’t take a shower. You look beautiful just how you are.”

His eyes slipped down to take in my sheet, and he didn’t even look sorry. Where had all that guilt gone?

Down girl. Still not the time.

“I smell like smoke and alcohol and sweat, which is just as bad. Plus, bed head looks just like sex hair.”

He stepped up and rested his hands on my shoulders. It was meant to be reassuring, but it was bare skin on bare skin, which didn’t relax me at all. As twisted as it was, something about this whole situation still had me turned on. A small part of me liked that we could get caught, even if there wasn’t really a “we,” and no actual sex had been had.

“I’ll tell them the truth,” he said. “You overslept. I just got here.”

“Yeah. Like they’ll believe that.”

His thumbs stroked my shoulders softly, and my body almost wilted.

“I’ll make them believe. I promise.”

He stepped away like he hadn’t just caressed my bare skin, and I wasn’t naked beneath my sheet. His expression was calm and unreadable. It was like he wasn’t affected at all.

Were some men of a different species? Did they have different DNA that enabled them to be so much better than other guys?

I resisted the urge to drop my sheet again just to get a reaction out of him. I closed my eyes, and nodded. I kept my eyes closed as he slipped out of the room so that I wouldn’t do something stupid. I stood there, frozen and turned on, even after I heard him greet my parents.

   
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