I know because I inhale sharply and forget to breathe as I take him in. Desire, panic, jealousy—I feel all of those things and nothing at all because the guy… the freaking guy is my fake boyfriend.

9

CHLOE

I watch in what feels like slow motion as Nathan pulls himself out of the pool. The pretty blonde attached to him is all smiles. Well, this is spectacularly awful. The guy my friends think I’m dating is here with someone else and my roommates are about to find out I’m a big fat liar.

Also, I think I might be disappointed, which is ridiculous. We’re just friends. Friends who slept together once after a drunken night of secret sharing.

“Is that Nathan?” Sydney’s voice is right behind me and the claustrophobic feeling that tightens my chest tells me Bri and Emily are also near and watching the foray between Nathan and his actual date for the night.

“Yep.”

Sydney scoffs. “What a ho. You should go tell that girl to get her mitts off your man.”

I resist laughing at this totally messed up situation but just barely.

When Nathan turns so I can get a good look at his face, it doesn’t look altogether pleased, which makes me feel a teensy bit better. He looks up and directly at me like he knew exactly where to find me. My pulse quickens, and I break eye contact first, staring at my feet and wishing I’d never agreed to come here tonight.

Did I really think I could waltz in here and he’d snap to my side and pretend to be my boyfriend while I win over my teammates?

When I look back up, he’s coming my way with a sexy smirk. He’s completely soaked. The white t-shirt he’s wearing clings to him and if there were such a thing as a male wet t-shirt contest, he’d win. Hands down. Cut abs that I’ve seen, felt, licked—oh, my freaking God—are clearly visible. I’m making my way down his body, trying not to ogle and failing miserably, when he gets to us. The blonde is two steps behind, not letting my man, correction, her man, get away.

“Hey, Surfer Princess, you came.” He briefly looks to each of my roommates and nods.

I hear Bri scoff and repeat the nickname like it annoys her.

The blonde catches up and stands next to him, wringing out her hair. “Oh, my God, I’m soaked.”

Nathan stands in front of me, dripping wet but smiling like he’s happy to see me and not the least bit bothered by his drenched clothes. I’m not sure how long we stand there just staring at one another before the blonde interrupts.