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Back The Fake Save as PDF
Chapters (44)
  1. Cover
  2. 1
  3. 2
  4. 3
  5. 4
  6. 5
  7. 6
  8. 7
  9. 8
  10. 9
  11. 10
  12. 11
  13. 12
  14. 13
  15. 14
  16. 15
  17. 16
  18. 17
  19. 18
  20. 19
  21. 20
  22. 21
  23. 22
  24. 23
  25. 24
  26. 25
  27. 26
  28. 27
  29. 28
  30. 29
  31. 30
  32. 31
  33. 32
  34. 33
  35. 34
  36. 35
  37. 36
  38. EPILOGUE
  39. PLAYLIST
  40. THE PASS SNEAK PEEK
  41. TANNER
  42. SYDNEY
  43. TANNER
  44. ALSO BY REBECCA JENSHAK

Professor Sanchez starts in on the lecture about knowing your target audience, but I watch Chloe. When she’s down to the last bite, she holds it out and whispers, “If you’re gonna hate on it, at least try it.”

I don’t really want it, especially because I bet there’s a blueberry one—my favorite—in the bag Katrina forced into my backpack, again, for later, but I lean over and take the bite directly from her hand. Green eyes swirl with heat as my tongue and lips connect with her fingers.

She covers her reaction quickly, rolls her eyes, and sits back in her seat like she’s paying attention to the lecture.

I grab her pen and angle the notebook so I can write her a note.

Things I’ve learned about Chloe:

  1. Likes bran muffins (yuck)
  2. Likes my mouth on her fingers

Then I draw a line through on her fingers. She likes my mouth. Period. She takes the pen from me and starts her own list.

Things I’ve learned about Nathan:

1.

She looks up and frowns, pen poised to write, but she obviously can’t come up with anything. I take the pen again and fill in number one for her.

  1. Likes blueberry muffins

We hand off the pen and she writes a number two and then looks to me.

Likes your mouth. Period, I scrawl after pulling a pen from the side pocket of my backpack.

She smiles. A real honest to God grin that makes her look like the laidback, fun surfer princess I like to imagine she is. I realize I don’t actually know all that much about her. And I want to.

What are we doing this weekend?

Her brows furrow before she responds, I didn’t know we were hanging out this weekend.

I think it would seem weird if we didn’t hang out.

She seems to mull that over before nodding.

Pushing my luck and not giving one single fuck, I add, We should probably hang out a few times a week so it seems legit.

That look of trepidation is back. That’s a lot and totally not necessary.

As if I care.

I disagree. It’s totally necessary. Plus, we have the class project to work on anyway.

She stares at the paper a moment, pen between her teeth, before she begins to write and write and write… a freaking novel from the looks of it. I can’t read it because her hand is in the way. My surfer princess is a leftie. When she’s done, she sits back, expels a breath, and focuses entirely too hard on Professor Sanchez.