Fitz shifts, and the small movement brings my attention back to his arms. There’s something about the fine dark hair that dusts the tight skin covering strong muscles that screams for my attention. I focus on them so hard I swear I must be hallucinating because I can see myself flinging my mouth to the side and sinking my teeth into them while Fitz cages the side of my head.

I immediately shake the image away. I think the mention of celibacy pushed my brain in the direction of bad ideas, like thinking about how it might feel for Fitz to lie on top of me.

After all, this is Fitz. My Fitz. And while he’s no longer as scrawny, beneath the height he grew and the seemingly delicious weight and strength he put on, the man standing in front of me is just a stretch of the little boy I grew up with.

A wonderfully attractive stretch.

“You don’t have to keep trying to flatter me.” I hold up my left hand, flashing the ring. “I said yes already.”

“What kind of husband would I be if I didn’t flatter you every moment I could?”

He’s playing with me. He’s playing along.

“Fake husband.” I lift a finger for emphasis.

“This might be all for show, Parker.” Fitz pockets his hands. “But there’s nothing fake about the kind of man I am. Plus, I’ve already been told how good we look good together. That we make quite the couple.”

“Do we?” I ask.

“That’s what the internet says.”

I giggle. “Well, if the internet says it, then it must be true.”

“I guess the real test will be the gala. A lot of my buddies will be there.”

I raise an eyebrow. “I met all of them today.”

“Yeah, but my guys are a bunch of overgrown kids.” He chuckles before growing serious again. “They don’t really give a shit about this kind of stuff. But do you know who does?”

I suddenly feel exposed under the change of his gaze. I stand and switch off the light I left on in the bathroom. “Who?”

When I circle back, he’s moved so close I nearly crash into him.

“Their wives. If we can sell it to them, we can do anything. It doesn’t exactly leave us much time for practice.”

“Practice?” I ask. “Practice for what?”

“For you to get used to this.”

Looking down, I find Fitz’s hand caging my own.

“You flinched when I touched you before in front of Nick.”

“Did not.”

“Did too. We have to make sure it doesn’t happen again, Parker.”