Chapter 21 #3
When Patrick tosses his to the side, I do my best not to look, but my eyes are glued to his arms. Then they move to his chest and stomach, and I can’t stop myself from gawking at him. His strong, thick body reveals hidden muscles as he twists to stretch.
Pulling me from my deeply inappropriate thoughts, I hear Patrick’s flirty tone. “You like what you see?”
My composure flies straight out the window, so without a response, I turn around and talk to Wes in order to distract myself.
I’m so grateful when Patrick suggested leaving after the volleyball game.
It surprised me how much fun I was having with his coworkers, but I cannot let myself get behind on classwork.
There are only two more weeks until the summer semester is over, and I can’t get sloppy now.
With ninety pages of reading and a discussion board due before Sunday night, now is the best time to do it.
Patrick promised I’d be home by midday on Sunday, but I don’t want to risk it. As much as I love my grad school professors, there are very few excuses they will accept for late work, and I can assure you that going to my ‘fake boyfriend's company weekend vacation thing’ is not one of them.
Patrick asked me if I needed the room to myself, and despite telling him that he could stay, he ended up taking advantage of the optional spa sessions to get a massage.
Apparently, Wes was going to get one too, so he joined along so Wes wouldn’t be lonely.
If I wasn’t mistaken, I would think that Wes and Patrick were more of a couple than we were.
Maybe I need to step up my fake girlfriend game tonight. I can’t have Wes outshining me.
Luckily, the reading was fast, and I already had a good idea for the discussion board. So, I was able to get it done fairly quickly.
While it typically doesn’t take me that long to get ready, I desperately need a shower, so when Patrick makes his way back in the room and plops himself down on the bed, looking relaxed and serene, I take the opportunity to claim the bathroom.
Wrapping a towel around my wet hair, I slip on the hotel-provided robe and tie the belt around my waist. I’m halfway considering stealing the robe and taking it home with me, but I don’t want Patrick being charged for my momentary klepto urges.
Patrick is exactly where I left him when I went into the bathroom—shirtless on the bed and surrounded by pillows.
He lets out a small snore, and I can’t help but giggle at how cute he is.
Last night, I had already fallen asleep before he got into bed—and we both woke up quickly this morning—so I haven’t been able to witness sleepy Patrick until now.
His hair is mussed, and there is the tiniest bit of drool on the side of his mouth. His chest is peacefully moving up and down in cadence with his breaths.
Leaning down next to him, I give him a light shake. “Wake up, sleepyhead.”
He scrunches his face like he doesn’t want to get up, and I find it oddly adorable.
His lack of response makes me shake a little harder. “Come on, Patrick. You’re not going to have enough time to get ready.”
After he groans at my comment, his voice comes out low and sexy, and I freeze. “Ughhhh, stop bothering me. I just want to sleeeeeep.”
When I find my voice again, I remind him that we have to get ready for dinner, but he just squints his eyes open, mumbles something, and closes them again.
“What did you say?”
“You look pretty when you—” He clears his throat and trails off again, but that doesn’t stop the butterflies from filling my stomach. He must be hallucinating because I have not started getting ready yet and definitely do not look pretty.
“Okay, that’s enough. If we don’t start getting ready for dinner, we’re going to be late. You are getting out of bed now!”
Grabbing a hold of his arm, I try to tug him out of bed.
‘Try’ being the key word here. After he lifted me up so easily, I should have been aware that he is significantly stronger than me. My grip is so tight on his arm that when he moves to flip over, he pulls me on top of him.
I shriek and try to move until I realize that my robe is dangerously close to falling open. There is only a thin layer of cloth that separates me and Patrick, and I am not about to be the naked one in this situation. I feel him shift under me, and I yell out, “Patrick! Stop moving!”
He instantly stills—his sleepy eyes turn wide—and I take a deep breath before continuing.
“I need you to stay completely still, so I can figure out how to get off of you without flashing you and showing you something that you don’t want to see.
Because if that happens, I’m going to crawl into a hole and die, and you won't have a fake girlfriend anymore.”
Debating the best way to get out of this, I decide to hold one hand tight to where the robe is threatening to open and wiggle off of him with my dignity still intact.
Once I am back on my feet, I let out a sigh and tug my robe close to me. Even with my body removed from his, my mind is still focused on all the places we made contact. What would’ve happened if I let the robe slip? How would Patrick have reacted?
I snap out of it when he sits up from the bed. “I’m sorry, El. I have always been bad at getting up when I don’t want to—” Mid-sentence, his tone shifts, and a wicked smirk forms on his face. “I’m sorry I didn’t realize you were such a weakling. Well, maybe I should have realized—”
I blink at him, surprised at the apology turned insult. Feeling defensive, I hit his arm. “You caught me off guard! A sneak attack is not a fair judgment!”
“Sure, sure. I guess I’m just super strong. Thanks for the ego boost, El.” Patrick stands up and kisses me on the top of the head. Flexing his biceps, he walks into the bathroom.
As the shower turns on, I am left there in silence confused about why he would show affection if there is no one around to see it.
When Patrick comes out of the bathroom only wearing a towel, he quirks an eyebrow at me, but refusing to engage, I grab my makeup and toiletries bag and rush past him without giving him another glance.
A flirty Patrick is a dangerous Patrick, and I cannot let him know how attracted to him I am.
It’s already embarrassing to have a crush and downright pathetic when that crush is on your fake boyfriend.
It takes me a bit longer than I was planning, but I finally finish up my makeup—a feat in itself. Honestly, I love wearing make-up, but there’s never a good reason to doll myself up like this.
My eyes scan the mirror as I stare at myself.
It took me a long time, but I genuinely like how I look.
I’ve come to understand that I definitely don’t look like everyone else, but that is okay.
There is always going to be someone skinnier or with better skin or less freckles, but when I look at myself in the mirror with no one to compare to, I see someone who is beautiful.
As I start to get dressed, I desperately wish I could be the girl who doesn’t have to wear a bra, but alas, I am not.
It has been the downfall of so many cute outfits, but it’s not going to happen today.
The same day I bought this dress I also bought a matching lingerie set in the same exact color, so I wouldn’t have to worry about boob tape or a bra that look like a torture device.
Slipping off the robe reveals the lacy, emerald lingerie.
The bra is unlined and the thong has some stretch, so I don’t feel constricted.
And, it's covered in this beautiful, floral pattern with scalloped edges.
Fuck, I don’t know if I’ve ever felt this sexy.
An extra air of confidence fills my lungs as I turn in the mirror, checking out my butt. I would wear this every day if it meant that I feel this good, but since I only have one set, I save it for special occasions.
Unzipping the garment bag, I see that the dress is just as beautiful as I remember.
The satin is smooth between my fingers. When I slip it over my head, the fabric flows down my body perfectly, hitting just below my knees.
It is the ideal midi length to be elegant, but it also has some added flare due to the suspiciously high slit up the side.
The fabric cinches in to define my waist, and the cowl neckline is minimally draped, laying flawlessly against my chest. It is held up by thin straps, which blend impeccably into the bra straps.
I clasp my gold pendant necklace and add tiny gold hoops to round out the look.
The last thing I have to worry about is my hair. Do I want to go classic and wear it up or should I keep the look more casual and wear it down? I desperately need a second opinion, so I go out to Patrick.
Seeing him before he notices me, I allow myself a moment to take him in.
He looks strikingly handsome. God, no wonder his coworkers are obsessed with him.
He’s wearing a classic black suit that looks tailored to his body, and his hair is styled in a way that I haven’t seen before.
It is slicked back with a bit of gel to give it shape, but it’s not uptight or stiff.
When his eyes finally catch mine, I inquire about his opinion. “Up or down?”