Fake It ‘Til You Feel It (Work For It #3)

6. Everybodys a Critic

CHAPTER 6

EVERYBODY'S A CRITIC

IVY

M ars is doing that thing where he eats all the tomatoes out of his salad before anything else. I lean forward in our booth at Curly’s Diner. “Why do you do that?”

He pauses with his fork halfway to his mouth, the last tomato wobbling precariously. “Do what?”

“Eat your tomatoes first. Every time.”

“Does it bother you?” The corner of his mouth kicks up.

“Not at all. I find it endearing. Like a dog who always spins three times before it lays down.”

“Thanks?” He eats the tomato and licks his lips. “I really like tomatoes.” I really like your mouth . I shake the thought from my head, unwilling to explore why it popped in there in the first place.

“Then wouldn’t you want to save them for last?”

“I like to front-load my pleasure. A little pre-meal treat.” His smile and quick wink make my ears warm. I can’t help but smile back at him.

I pluck a cucumber from his salad. “Is that a euphemism for something?” I know I’m treading into dangerous territory, but I can’t help myself.

“Do you want it to have a double meaning?” He reaches across the table, and I think he’s going to touch me. I really want him to touch me. But he takes a fry from my plate, popping it in his mouth and relaxing back into the booth.

“No,” I say too quickly. “Of course not.” After all, that’s not what totally, completely, one-hundred percent friends-only friends do. Even if we did have one of the hottest kisses of my life yesterday.

When I got home last night after book club, I had to talk myself out of using one of my vibrators. The only way I was able to fall asleep was chanting it wasn’t real over and over.

I need to draw some clear lines to get us firmly back on the friends side of things, because I can’t function if I’m distracted by something as insignificant as a kiss. His lips felt pretty significant, you liar .

“How was your meeting this morning?” Perfect. A nice, boring topic to get us back on track.

As we chat about work, Mars picks up the pen he carries with him everywhere and starts doodling on the paper placemat in front of him. He draws a little coffee mug with a cute, yawning face on it, and it’s so charming I want to hug it.

He puts his pen down as our waitress, Dana, tops off our water and leans down. “So,” she starts, drawing out the word. This should be good. “I heard you two are dating now.” She puts finger bunny ears around dating and raises an eyebrow at us.

“News travels fast.” Mars winks at me with a we got this look on his face.

“Yeah, I’m not buying it,” Dana says.

I almost spit out my coffee. Apparently, we don’t got this.

Mars’ face falls. “What? Why? We’re totally together.” He turns to me. “Right, schmoopy?”

I kick him under the table, and he jolts. Dana shakes her head.

“Knock it off. We’re only trying to keep Henning and his family off my back. We don’t need to bamboozle all of Wavecrest.” I keep my voice low in case anybody else is listening.

“Well, I hate to tell you this but y’all need to work on your body language. More leaning. More touches. More lingering looks. If you want pointers on selling the fake-dating thing, you should talk to Ryan over at the tattoo parlor. That’s how he and Cecilia started.” Dana’s voice is entirely too loud for my liking.

Mars lifts his mug. “Thanks for the tips, but I think we’re good.”

Dana rolls her eyes at him. “Fine, but it’s your funeral. Remember, more touching.” She gives us a smug smile and shakes her head, like she’s the expert on the subject. There’s no way Mars and I don’t have chemistry.

Dana heads to another table, and Mars moves his plate aside, leaning across the table so he’s in my space. “Don’t listen to her.” He reaches for my hand and holds it. His grasp is warm and solid, sending crackling energy shooting up my arm. “I think this is going to be easy.”

“How are you so confident?”

“I was in the drama club in high school. I was going to play Romeo until I broke my arm falling off the stage.” His face is deadly serious but there’s a wicked glint in his eye.

I throw my head back and laugh, squeezing his hand.

“Yes, like that,” Dana exclaims as she walks by our table.

MARS

We step out into the sunshine, and Ivy looks up and down the street, probably keeping an eye out for Henning or his family. Wavecrest’s a small town and it’s easy to run into people you’d like to avoid.

Ivy pulls her lip gloss out of her bag, and I hold up my phone to her face so she can use it as a mirror. The soft-tipped wand glides over her lips, and I try not to think about how I want to follow it with my tongue. Recapping the gloss she rubs her lips together, never taking her eyes from her reflection. Blood rushes from my head to my cock as I choke back a groan. It happens every time we do this little ritual.

Trying to loosen the tension in my gut, I close my eyes and point my face at the emerging sun. The familiar sound of Ivy dropping the gloss back in her bag makes me smile. As I’m taking a deep breath and enjoying the heat of the sun on my face, I feel Ivy’s hands on my chest.

“Shit,” she whispers.

“What...”

She spins us around, fists her hands in my shirt, whispers a quick ‘go with it’ and pulls me down into a kiss. I honestly don’t care that we’re putting on a show because this kiss is a revelation. A massive earthquake could split Wavecrest down the middle and I don’t think I’d notice with Ivy’s lips on mine and mine on hers.

She has a tight grip on my shirt, but I’m not planning on going anywhere. We’re so close in height that our mouths line up perfectly. My hands have a mind of their own and reach for her hips, pulling her closer.

She gasps, and I take the kiss deeper as I tease her with my tongue. Her gasp turns into a moan, and she winds her arms around my neck, her fingers raking through my hair. Holy fuck this is the hottest kiss I’ve ever had, and it’s just for show.

Somewhere, on the other side of the fuzzy fog in my brain, I hear slow clapping. It is a pretty great kiss...it deserves applause but Ivy’s grip on my hair eases and she slowly pulls back. Her jaw hangs open, and she stares at me as the clapping continues. I turn. Henning is walking away from us, up the street toward the resort. Right, the whole reason for the kiss .

The applause finally stops, and I notice Dale, the bartender at Foggy’s Bar, smiling at us like he’s a cat that cornered a mouse.

Next to him is Betty, the owner of Betty’s Tattoos and Tea, with her arms folded and a smirk on her face. Inside I groan. Two kisses in twenty-four hours and they’ve happened in front of the three biggest gossips in town.

“Oh my god, I had no idea you two were dating,” Dale says, his voice flat. He waves off that statement. “I’m lying. June unleashed it on the group chat last night. Poor thing thinks this is real. But we know better, don’t we Betty?” He nudges the older woman with his elbow.

I want to disagree with him, to shout This could be real . But I keep my mouth shut.

I realize I’m still holding Ivy, and I start to drop my hands, but her grip on my shirt tightens. That’s right, we got this chemistry thing locked down.

Betty pulls her phone from her pocket and taps at the screen, then puts it back in her pocket. Dale’s phone dings with a notification. Through the window of Curly’s, I see Dana pull her phone out of her apron pocket and laugh at what she sees. The Wavecrest grapevine is lightning quick. And scary.

“We’re not trying to,” Ivy begins, but Betty waves her off.

“We know exactly what you’re trying to do. You think you’re faking a relationship—this isn’t our first rodeo. But if you’re going to convince whoever you’re trying to convince, your act needs more work. Nobody who knows you well believes it.” What the actual fuck? Betty is the second person in a half hour to tell us that our chemistry is lacking.

I call bullshit. Before I can think better of it, I pull Ivy back in for another kiss. My hands roam over her back, skimming just above her peachy ass. She immediately opens for me, humming a happy little tune as our tongues tangle. Her nails scrape through my hair, showering my body in sparks. I grow painfully hard.

When I finally pull back, her eyes are glazed and her lips are parted. There, that’ll show them .

I turn back to Betty and Dale, but they’re already walking away, their shoulders shaking with laughter.

“I think...I think we’re not the ones doing the bamboozling,” Ivy says in a whisper.

I blink like I’m coming out of a trance. It feels like we’ve been visited by the ghosts of busybodies past and present.

I slowly let go of Ivy’s waist and clear my throat. “Well...that was...that was...” I got nothing. Logic and reason are slow to come back because I can still taste her, still feel her warm breath ghosting across my lips.

Ivy reaches up and brushes her thumb across my lips. “This isn’t your color,” she says with a hint of a smile. I flick my tongue out to catch her thumb before I can think better of it. Her eyes widen, and her lips part. I love putting that look on her face, even if I’m crossing the friendship line.

I take her hand, and we head back to work. “My lips are at your disposal any time you need them.”

“My hero.”