Tangled Vows (Willow Brook Falls #3)

24. Shayla

24

SHAYLA

“ W e need to practice flirting,” Easton said. I stopped dead in my tracks and turned to face him. We were headed to the training center where he had a workout with the team, and I needed to prep the players’ smoothies. I looked left and right to make sure no one was around to hear. He went on, ignoring my deer in the headlights expression. “If we want people to believe our spur of the moment Vegas wedding is legit, they need to believe there’s something going on between us.”

“What does ‘practice flirting’ even mean?” I leveled my gaze on him, awaiting his answer. What exactly did he expect me to do? Giggle like a schoolgirl whenever he made a joke? Playfully smack his chest every time he teased me. Please, that wasn’t going to happen.

“It means…” he began, stepping into my space. I took a step back, but he continued toward me until my back hit the wall. I pressed my suddenly damp palms against the plaster, and blood pounded in my ears as he closed the distance between us. “That you need to start acting like you’re smitten with me.” He braced one arm above my head and smirked down at me, leaning in until his lips were mere inches from mine. I inhaled sharply, his masculine scent filling my nose as his fingers fluttered across my jaw. “It means no more insults. No glaring at me or rolling your eyes. You need to look at me like you can’t wait for me to slide my cock past those pretty pink lips and down your throat, and I’ll watch you like I know just how good you taste.”

Holy. Shit. His words should’ve had me burning with rage; instead, it was white-hot desire licking up my spine. I pressed my legs together to soothe the ache, but it did little to quell my need. Was this how it would be the whole time we were married? If so, it would be hard to stick to my no sex rule. I saw a lot of, ahem, self-care in my immediate future.

I whipped my head to the right at the sound of a throat clearing. Easton pushed off the wall casually, seemingly unaffected by the intrusion.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Kent announced, a knowing grin plastered across his smug face.

“Yo-you didn’t. We were just heading to the training center.” My stammering voice came out higher than I intended.

“Right,” Kent drawled. “Take your time.” I watched his retreating form until he disappeared around a corner.

“See,” Easton said, and I turned back to face him. “That’s how it’s done. Rumors will be circulating before we even hit the ice.” My stomach sank. He’d been putting on a show, fully aware someone was standing there watching us. He only did all that because we had an audience. It was stupid of me to think that little interaction meant something. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

He sauntered down the hall, following in Kent’s footsteps as I stood there mentally kicking myself for getting lost in the moment and forgetting he didn’t actually want me. Gritting my teeth, I followed after him.

“Was that really necessary?” I spat, keeping my voice low in case anyone else was close enough to hear.

“Yes, it was,” he deadpanned, refusing to slow down or look at me. Damn he’d been burning hot a moment ago, and now he was cold as ice. If I had any doubts that performance in the hallway was all an act, they quickly vanished. “Better get used to it,” he said as we reached the door to the weight room. He pressed his back to it as he met my eye. “There will be a lot more of it in the coming weeks.” With that, he disappeared inside, and I made my way to the kitchen. I’d have to take out my frustration on my cutting board. At least until tonight when I could break out my battery-powered stress reliever.