The Fake Boyfriend Fiasco

3. A Shit in a Showroom Toilet

Chapter 3

A Shit in a Showroom Toilet

Six Weeks Later

Remember to text me the address!!!

Don’t worry, I will. We just arrived, so I’ll send it soon. x

J ennifer wasn’t usually a triple-exclamation-mark kind of gal, but she was clearly feeling anxious about her best friend travelling to Spain with a retired footballer to pose as his fake girlfriend. Well, actually, Jen didn’t know about that, because Aria had signed an NDA. So, she was really anxious about Aria, known lover of fuck boys and literally murderous men, flitting off on a ‘romantic holiday’ with a ‘new boyfriend’ no-one but Keynes had ever met.

Which meant that Aria had to text Jen constantly this week, just to confirm her continued survival and ease her poor friend’s worry.

It was a damned good thing she was getting paid for this, or she’d be annoyed already.

Of course, the sultry heat of a Spanish afternoon went some way to alleviating that annoyance. So did the massive 4x4 whose passenger seat she currently occupied, and the huge gated villa the car was pulling up to… and even the man in the driver’s seat.

Not that she liked Nikolas Christou, or anything—even if he was kind of funny over email. She didn’t like him at all. Theirs was a strictly professional relationship. But God, on a physical level, Aria liked him a hell of a fucking lot.

From behind the cover of her Victoria Beckham-esque shades (circa 2006, since Nik was a footballer and all), Aria devoured the man sitting beside her. His attention was on the cool, shadowy garage they were rolling into. His head was tilted back slightly, and his full lips were parted in a way that reminded her of, say, a guy looking down at her as she sucked his cock. Just for example.

He had one big hand wrapped around the gearstick, the other on the wheel. His forearms were golden-brown and dusted with dark hair, thickly muscled and lined with veins she’d love to run her tongue over. Theoretically, of course. Just like she was theoretically wondering which of the many toys in her sox—aka her sex box—might be the exact same size as his long, thick fingers. All in the name of science, you understand.

But Aria did not like Nik at all.

He parked the car and looked at her. It wasn’t the way normal people looked, with eyes and general attention and all that. It was some next-level, ridiculously intense look that she’d only ever seen from Nik. He met her gaze and she felt like she’d been slapped in the face with feelings . Like he was telepathically pushing shit into her brain, shit like, You’re special, and You’re the centre of my world, and Holy fuck, I care so much about everything that comes out of your mouth .

He put all that in her head with a sweep of those thick lashes, and then he followed it up with the utterly mundane: “You good?”

Nik, Aria had quickly realised, was one of those men. You know; the ones who’d been born with the superpower of effortless seduction, who could make you believe they’d fallen in love by fucking accident. She’d decided to keep that fact at the forefront of her mind all week, like armour in the battle against those big brown eyes. “I’m good,” she nodded.

He smiled at her as they got out of the car, and Aria’s so-called armour collapsed. Oh, dear Lord, why did he have to be so fine? Why? What was the reason? Who made him? Where did he come from? It simply wasn’t natural.

“Everyone will be asleep,” he said while she had a mental crisis over his hotness. “Except G, maybe. She gets up early.”

Aria cast a doubtful look at the bright Spanish sun beyond the opening of the garage. “Asleep?”

“Party started yesterday, technically.”

She hadn’t expected Nik to grab her luggage at the airport—rich men were generally thoughtless—but he had. So, she wasn’t surprised when he did the same thing now, hauling both their suitcases out of the car as if it were nothing. His might actually be pretty light, but Aria knew full well that hers was weighed down by vital outfit changes, shoe options, assorted belly bars, and a hell of a lot of sex toys. Like she’d ever leave the sox at home when she was fake-dating the guy who’d melted her knickers off with a kiss. What did she look like, a fool?

He led the way into the house, its air conditioning delicious against her slightly sweaty skin. Was Spain supposed to be this fucking hot? It wasn’t that far from home. She stretched out her arms as they wandered through cool, dim hallways. “Who’s G, by the way?”

Before Nik could answer, a sickly-sweet voice came from a nearby room. “I’m G! Who’s you?” A second later, a figure appeared in the doorway.

A very short, very thin figure in a tiny red bikini that matched her scarlet lipstick and complimented her waist-length, golden hair. The woman widened incredible baby blues at the sight of them. Then, without waiting for a response to her question, she gave an excitable squeal and ran up to Nik with open arms.

Which was when Aria’s travel-fatigued brain made use of the info Nik had been feeding her for weeks. ‘G’ must be Georgia , Nik’s best friend’s girl, a woman firmly on the ‘safe’ list. Which meant Aria didn’t have to beat her off with a stick.

Good thing, too. It’d be pretty damn hard to get a stick, or a ruler, or a blade of fucking grass, between Nik and Georgia’s bodies right now.

Not that Aria was jealous. Her concern was purely professional. She was, after all, a professional girlfriend.

As if he’d heard that thought, Nik stepped back and turned to Aria. He held out a hand, flashing a smile that would have turned her brain to mush if she weren’t in possession of certain important facts. Like the fact that everything about to occur between them would be 100% staged.

Still, his hand sliding into hers felt real enough. In fact, it shocked her system like a bolt of lightning.

“Ri,” he said, and she realised he was talking to her . Ri? Fucking Ri ? Aria would have been disgusted by such rampant shortening of her name, if it didn’t vaguely connect her to the legend that was Rihanna. “This is Georgia,” Nik went on. “Georgia, this is my girlfriend, Aria.”

For a second, Georgia’s mouth hung open. It was a rather impactful sight, what with all the red lipstick involved. But a heartbeat later she pulled herself together and gave Aria a smile that seemed totally genuine.

“Oh my God!” she trilled. “ Girlfriend? ” But not in a bitchy kind of way. More like the way someone would shout, “ Oh my God, is that a fresh pack of Digestives?” Then she threw herself into Aria’s arms just as she’d thrown herself at Nik. It was quite a strange sensation, having a tiny, half-naked stranger hanging on to her waist, but Aria decided it wasn’t completely unpleasant.

“Hi,” she managed.

Georgia stepped back. “You alright, babe? Oh, I’m proper buzzing to meet you!” She turned an exasperated look on Nik and said, “Did you tell Varo about this? Cuz if you’ve told him, and he ain’t told me—”

“Calm down,” Nik said. “I didn’t mention it. Didn’t want to cause a fuss. Aria’s very private.” This was the line they had agreed upon.

“Oohhhhh,” Georgia said. She gave Aria a sympathetic look. “I completely understand. I was just saying to Laurie yesterday—you’ll meet Laurie, when she drags her arse out of bed.” Georgia launched into a truly astonishing cackle that lasted approximately three seconds before ending abruptly. “I was saying, people overshare so much these days. Especially with social media. No-one needs to know if me and Varo are nipping down the beach for a shag, do you know what I mean? That’s not IG story material! But some people, oh, I could go on all day.”

“Really,” Nik agreed solemnly. “She could.”

Georgia tossed her acres of sunshine hair in a disdainful sort of way and said, “Shush, you!” Then she turned back to Aria. “So, what’s going on ? How did this happen ? Where did youse meet ?” She grinned like a kid awaiting a bedtime story.

Aria offered her best impression of shyness—which wasn’t great, since she’d never been shy—and said, “Oh, it’s kind of a funny story.”

A story she’d rehearsed several times, in preparation for this moment. They’d decided to stick close to the truth, but Nik kept harping on about delivery . Apparently, they had to be convincing, or his friends wouldn’t believe a word of it. He’d never had a girlfriend before, or a boyfriend, for that matter, so he predicted shock.

Clearly, when it came to relationships, the two of them were polar opposites.

But Aria intended to earn her hundreds of thousands of pounds—damn, those words felt good, even in her mind—so she was ready to put on the best performance of her life. Until Nik pulled her into his arms so suddenly she forgot how to breathe.

“She kissed me,” he said, staring down at her with more love in his eyes than she’d seen from her own damn mother. “We bumped into each other at the hotel, and she just… grabbed me and kissed me.”

It was disturbingly easy to melt against his broad chest, to smile up at him in fond, mock-censure. “You asked me to kiss you, Nik.”

“And I thought you were going to say no.”

“I didn’t say anything. I was thinking.”

“Well, you took your bloody time,” he said, sounding for all the world like a sheepish, smitten bastard.

“But I got there in the end,” Aria replied, her voice sickeningly soft. She hadn’t known she could act like this. She was almost scaring herself. If the look on her face was even close to the adoring stare on his, they both deserved an Oscar. A joint Oscar. Was that a thing? Well, it should be.

“Oh my God!” Georgia squealed, clapping her hands together. She jumped up and down, and her magnificent chest bounced like a pair of melons rolling down someone’s front steps. Aria mentally filed the image away for the boob job she was never going to get, but constantly considered. “ You ,” Georgia cried, pointing at Nik, “are in love!”

Nik’s reaction wasn’t half as negative as it should be. “Oh, come on, G,” he said cheerfully. “Don’t stress me.” But Aria caught his cocky little wink. And she definitely caught the way he looked down at her through those thick, sooty lashes, dragging his teeth over that lush lower lip.

As if he were ready to fall.

* * *

“I think that went well,” Nik said, as he set down their suitcases and shut the bedroom door firmly. They were in the room Varo usually gave him, right at the top of the house and almost alone, but complete privacy was necessary. No point hiring a (fake) fake girlfriend if anyone could pass by and overhear the fact that she was, you know, fake.

When Aria didn’t answer, he turned to find her standing in the middle of the room, staring at the queen-sized bed. Nik smiled and ran a hand through his hair, stretching out the aching muscles in his back. “Yeah, the room’s amazing. I love this house.”

Abruptly, Aria turned to him, her focus on the bed forgotten. “What was that?”

Nik’s smile faded. He wasn’t exactly an expert in social interaction, but her tone did not sound positive. “What was what?”

“That. Down there. I know the point is to fake this, but…” she gave a brittle, nervous sort of laugh. “I didn’t know you were that good an actor.”

“Was I… supposed to be bad?” Nik asked slowly. Then he realised what he was saying and frowned. “Wait, what? I don’t get it. What’s the problem?”

For a moment, she just looked at him with something steely in her gaze. She was beautiful, of course, even after the flight. He was starting to think she couldn’t not be beautiful. Her hair was dark now and longer than it had been when they met. She was wearing shorts and a vest, but the way she wore them—he couldn’t even describe it. Something about her commanded attention, and it was sexy as hell.

At that moment, though, she seemed fragile despite her power. She wrapped her arms around herself and watched him almost warily, as if expecting him to turn into a monster before her eyes. The tension swelled for several rigid seconds. But then she shook her head and slowly seemed to relax.

“Sorry,” she said. “I don’t know what I’m going on about. You just shocked me. I didn’t know you could lie like that.”

He grimaced at the word. Lie . He hadn’t felt as if he was lying downstairs, but he supposed he must’ve been. And he was definitely lying to her, kind of. Sort of. Was paying an extortionate amount of money to keep her with him under false pretences a lie?

No. That is the behaviour of a potential serial killer.

Oh, for God’s sake.

“It was easy,” he admitted, “to… perform love. Because I’ve seen so much of it. My parents, before my father died. My sister and her husband. I wouldn’t say I’m a good liar, but that I can do.”

The last bit of hesitancy left her expression. “That’s sweet. I wish I could say the same,” she chuckled, wandering around the room, from the ornate vanity he’d never used to the huge, glass-panelled wardrobe. “My parents fucking hate each other.”

The humour in her voice startled a laugh out of him. He almost forgot the unease that had cloaked her moments earlier; in fact, she seemed to have forgotten it. Maybe it was just nerves. It was easy to forget that she could feel something so mundane, because everything about Aria was bold and fearless—but their situation was pretty fucking weird, and she had vulnerabilities like everyone else. She must. Despite how perfect he found her, she was only human.

“Not a happy family?” he asked.

She smirked as she walked past him into the bathroom. “God, no. But divorce is a sin, so on they trudge.” She looked at him over her shoulder, rolling her eyes. “Fucking kill me now. Oh, look, there’s little moisturisers in here, like a hotel.”

“That’s G. She takes these parties very seriously.”

“She’s a sweetheart,” Aria said. Nik felt something in him relax, something he hadn’t even realised was there. He wanted her to like his friends. He needed her to, almost.

“Eventually,” Nik blurted out, “I’d like to be like my parents. Or my sister. Or even Georgia and Varo. It’s ridiculous how much they love each other. That’s what I want.” He had no idea why he’d said that. They weren’t even on that topic anymore. They’d moved on to little moisturisers, for fuck’s sake, but apparently his mind hadn’t gotten the message.

Still, Aria didn’t question it. She leaned forward to reach the cabinet over the massive marble counter. Her top rose up, and he tried not to stare too much at the expanse of lower back it revealed. “That’s funny,” she said lightly. “That you’re so into true love, I mean, but you’ve got yourself a fake girlfriend.”

If only she fucking knew. “Well, I’ve always wanted love, but in a distant sort of way. I suppose…” He faltered as a realisation hit him. It wasn’t a particularly flattering one, but he said it anyway. “I suppose I assumed it would fall into my lap, like everything else. So, I never put any effort into romance.”

“Hmm.” She caught his eye in the mirror. “I feel like you’re expecting me to judge you here.”

“Aren’t you?”

“Sweetheart, I’m just trying to get paid.”

He snorted, even as the words scratched at his heart. “I’m aware. So, what about you, chrysí mou?”

She smirked. “See, you think I’m gonna ask you what that means, so you can tell me some romantic shit and I’ll swoon.”

“Ah... What?” Nik blinked.

“Cut the Greek. You know it sounds sexy. And you just can’t stop being a dirty little flirt.” Aria winked as she strutted out of the bathroom. Her hip brushed his as she passed through the door, and Nik’s mind scrambled. Did she really think Greek was sexy? And what did it mean that she’d called him dirty with that teasing smile on her face and that sparkle in her eyes? And why was he trying to figure out ways to get her to say it again?

Wait, what were they talking about?

Oh, yes. He hid his confusion—and his frankly excessive arousal—behind the best smirk he could muster, leaning against the doorframe with his arms folded. “You didn’t answer my question. What about you?”

“About me?” She hauled her suitcase onto the bed—impressive, because that thing weighed a ton—and started the lock combination.

“Do you want to find love?”

Aria rolled her eyes. “I found it several times. Never quite got the hype. Love is like a diamond: costs a lot, has a great rep, but at the end of the day it’s just a shiny rock. It has no purpose and no value beyond what we’ve assigned to it. Most people just want to say they’ve got one.”

He gaped as she opened her suitcase and sorted through a pile of glittery fabrics. He had never, in all his life, heard such a cynical analysis of love. And he’d been a pro footballer since he was seventeen.

The beast she’d awoken inside him was howling its displeasure. It demanded that he prove her wrong, that he change that hard set to her pretty mouth and light up the shadows that wreathed her words. But before he could even begin, Aria looked up and flashed him a smile. “No offence,” she said wryly.

Nik choked down his impassioned responses and said, “None taken.”

* * *

The household staggered into life by 3 p.m. Where Nik led, Aria must follow, so she was relieved to find that his plans for the day revolved around the villa’s pool. He spent the afternoon thrashing about in the water with his mates, a series of men whose names she was never going to remember.

She paid attention only to the ones she’d already heard. Like Alvaro, or Varo, Nik’s best friend and Georgia’s boyfriend. He was a handsome Spaniard, if you were into the long-hair-and-bottomless-eyes thing. His ink was fantastic, too. And he seemed just as sweet as Georgia, if slightly quieter.

Then there was Kieran, a Brit with dark skin and a shy smile that made Aria’s heart melt. She found shy people fascinating, probably because she absolutely could not relate. Whatever the reason, she liked Kieran on the spot. His girlfriend, Laurie, was less easy to warm to—not because there was anything wrong with her, but because she only spoke French. Aria had failed French at school, along with almost every other subject. She did manage a mangled sort of “Comment ca-va?” though. Laurie, unsurprisingly, was not particularly impressed. But they had Georgia for company on the sun loungers, nattering away non-stop and translating parts of the conversation.

“I’ve told everyone about you,” Georgia was saying happily. “I ran through the house, I did, after youse got here! I shook all these lazy buggers awake and told ‘em, Nik’s got a girl!”

Thank you, Georgia, for doing half of my work for me. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it.

“Course, most of ‘em fell right back to sleep.” Georgia rolled her eyes. “Honestly. They best be ready to go by tonight, at least!”

“You guys take this party pretty seriously,” Aria murmured, most of her attention on her sketchbook. She stared at the little 3-D heart she’d just finished shading. What should she write in the centre? Get fucked ? Or Dior slut?

“You’re damned right we do!” Georgia cried. “Especially the lads. Most of them don’t get much time to relax.”

Aria flicked a gaze over to the pool. The guys, plus a couple of girls she hadn’t met yet, were playing some sort of raucous game involving three footballs and a series of highly questionable underwater tackles. “The poor dears,” Aria deadpanned. “They seem so stressed.”

Georgia snorted out a laugh. “Oh, you and Nik are so perfect for each other. I bet he absolutely dies over you! Bless him.” She chuckled as if Aria and Nik pairing up was the sweetest event in modern history. Then she said something in French and Laurie started laughing too. Georgia must be some kind of linguistic genius, because earlier on she’d been speaking fluent Spanish with Alvaro. Then there was Kieran, who must speak French to date Laurie—and, of course, Nik, who spoke two languages at least.

Aria made a mental note to download DuoLingo.

“Do you fancy a bagel, babe?” Georgia asked suddenly. “I’ve really got a hankering, you know. Love a bagel, me.”

“Oh, no thanks.”

“Laurie, veux-tu un bagel?”

“Oui, merci,” Laurie drawled. Aside from the movement of her bee-stung lips, the brunette remained completely still. She reminded Aria of a cat lounging on hot concrete.

As Georgia hustled off, Aria wondered if sketching Nik right now—those thick muscles dripping wet and glistening in the sun—would count as work. Because if she was his real girlfriend, she’d probably draw him. So, as his fake girlfriend…

“He- llo .”

Aria looked up sharply at the shadowy figure looming over her. “Uh… hi?”

The figure sat down on the sun lounger Georgia had just vacated. Now he was out of the sun, Aria saw an unusually tall man whose low-slung trunks displayed a lean, cut, tattooed body. Unfortunately, the tattoos were shit. He grinned, displaying a row of teeth that were strangely identical in size and shape, dominating his mouth like a pearly brick wall. His pale hair curled around his carved cheekbones, and his eyes were a bright, startling green.

“I’ve never seen you before,” he said, leaning back on his hands in a way that sort of… puffed out his chest. He ran his eyes over her body, brows raised, and she became slightly conscious of her tiny bikini. “I’m Shenker.”

Ah. There was another name she’d heard. Nik didn’t like this guy. He hadn’t said so, of course; she got the feeling he’d never say anything unkind. But when they’d been running over the endless guest list on the plane, he’d sneered slightly as he said Tom Shenker’s name.

“I’m Aria,” she said, offering the man a tight smile.

He gave a leisurely nod that could only be described as arrogant. “Who are you with?”

She cocked a brow, her irritation piqued. “Who says I’m with anyone?” But wait—that didn’t sound very I’m-so-excited-to-be-Nik’s-girlfriend , now, did it? Slapping on a smile, she added quickly, “But I am. Obviously. Just…”

Shenker’s brows drew together as she stumbled over her words. Oh, fuck. This wasn’t going well. When all else fails, flirt . Aria set her sketchbook aside and mirrored the man’s posture, thrusting out her own non-existent chest. His gaze flickered, not to her tits, but down to her thighs. Good enough.

“Why don’t you see if you can guess?” she asked, making her voice as breathy as it was ever gonna get. Maybe the Marilyn Monroe impression would draw attention away from her rambling mouth.

“Alright,” he drawled, looking over at the pool. She followed his gaze and found the weird ball game still going strong.

Except for Nik, who stood in the middle of the watery pitch, glaring directly at them.

Oh, dear. Was she not supposed to talk to Shenker? Oops .

“I’m going to guess,” Shenker murmured, “that it’s Nik, since he’s looking over here like he wants to murder me. But if you are with Nik, you won’t be for long—”

“Charming,” she snorted. “Do you often get to know people by insulting them?”

His confidence faltered a little, that odd smile slipping. “Well, I… I just meant, Nik only does casual, so if you’re interested in—”

“Nik’s my boyfriend, actually. And he’s coming over here.” Why is he coming over here?

Aria watched his progress with a combination of alarm and appreciation. Alarm because he had a smouldering sort of rage-y look on his face that she’d never actually seen before. Appreciation also because of that smouldering look, along with the droplets of water sliding down his deliciously muscular legs. Lord, the man had some thighs . She supposed it made sense, considering his profession, but damn.

“Boyfriend?” Shenker’s expression betrayed a hint of worry, which was smart. Because, while Nik was a sweetheart with a constant smile, he also gave off this low thrum of dangerous energy, the kind that suggested he wasn’t to be messed with.

And Aria, she reminded herself, was not at all attracted to that. Not in the slightest.

* * *

Ah, Tom Shenker. A storm cloud on a sunny day. A shit in a showroom toilet. The man was more adept at ruining Nik’s mood than he was at keeping—and, Nik’s hatred aside, he had to admit Shenker was a damned good keeper. The twat.

Whack —Kieran’s hand landed between Nik’s shoulder blades in what the short, circumspect full-back probably considered a friendly pat. “Head in the game, Christou.”

Nik grunted in reply. His glower remained pinned to Aria and Shenker, chatting away on the sun loungers. Truthfully, he’d spent half the afternoon staring at Aria from the corner of his eye, anyway—she was pretty fucking easy to stare at. Especially in that shimmering string bikini, blue as the pool and tiny enough to display a body he could drown in.

Which he absolutely was not going to do, obviously.

Until she asked for it.

Suddenly, Aria and Shenker turned to look at him as one—as if they were talking about him. Ri’s eyes met his, and something electric shot through his body, strong enough to snatch his breath for a second. Fuck.

“I’m going over there,” he muttered, more to himself than anyone else.

Still, Kieran replied. “You don’t need to worry about Shenker. That’s your girl.”

Wise words, except she wasn’t his girl. She was just pretending to be. And while Nik knew, logically, that his fake girlfriend wasn’t going to fake-cheat on him, his blood turned to ice at the thought of his very real obsession falling for someone else right under his nose.

That was easy enough to avoid, though. He’d just have to make sure she liked him best.

“Nik,” Varo shouted. “Where you going? You’re down one-nil!”

“Time out,” he called over his shoulder as he hauled himself out of the pool. He could feel Aria’s eyes on him, burning just like the sun-baked stone under his palms. So, he might have flexed a little more than necessary as he stood, and he may have walked over to them kind of slowly, just to enjoy the way her gaze raked over his body.

And, since she was unashamedly staring, Nik decided he could do the same.

Jesus, she looked good. Sweet little tits, thick waist, hips and a belly he could grab while he fucked her. Not that he was going to fuck her. This was all just theoretical. Or rather, hopeful. She really was covered in tattoos, and he found himself desperate to trace every single one with his tongue—from the gemstone heart below her collarbone to the little jellyfish swimming up her ankle. She leant back against her sun lounger, one leg bent, so he caught a glimpse of the plump, bikini-covered V between her thighs.

I want that. Bad.

The need hit harder than a set of studs to the gut, almost hard enough to stop Nik in his tracks. Fuck. If he didn’t stop thinking about this—about her —he’d be flashing his hard-on to the whole damn house in the next five minutes.

Nik tore his gaze from Aria and glared at Shenker instead, letting the man’s smug-fuck face erase every last scrap of desire. Ah. Perfect.

“Shenker,” he growled as he strode closer.

“Christou.”

The conversation ended there. His back firmly to the other man, Nik bent by Aria’s sun lounger and met her eyes. They were huge and doe-like without all the smokey makeup she preferred, tilting slightly upward at the edges. She gave him a teasing smile that set his racing heart at ease. Obviously, she didn’t like Shenker. Nobody with any fucking sense liked Shenker—Varo just had some primary school determination to ‘include everyone’, so the prick was always invited to these things.

In fact, Nik decided, Aria probably hated the guy. Sure, they’d only spoken for five minutes, but it was possible. In which case, she might be sitting here silently begging him to rescue her from the man’s irritating presence. And Nik could never abandon a lady in distress. So he slid an arm under her bent knees, wrapped the other around her waist, and picked her up.

She sucked in a breath so hard, he was surprised she didn’t choke. “What the bloody hell are you doing?” she demanded.

“You’ve been watching long enough, chrysí mou. Come and play.” Was it his imagination, or did she shiver in his arms at that last sentence? Maybe she was cold. Somehow. In thirty-degree heat. He held her tighter just in case.

The guys in the pool cheered as Nik came closer. Aria didn’t seem nearly as impressed, but he was kind of enjoying her iron grip on his biceps. He wondered if she’d dig her fingers into his skin like that when she came on his cock.

If she came on his cock. Which she might never do, if he fucked this week up.

“This is a health and safety hazard,” she said, her voice dry as ever. “You’re about to slip, drop me, land on your arse and crack both our heads open.”

“I can assure you, my motor skills are better than that.”

“Isn’t your knee fucked up?”

“It’s still stronger than the average knee.” According to his physio, anyway.

“Sounds like bullshit,” she sang. He liked the smile on her face, liked the sight of her eyes sparkling in the sunlight and the way she tapped her tongue against her lip ring. Her navel was pierced too, twice. He didn’t even know you could pierce it twice.

He wondered if she’d pierced anything else.

“Throw her in!” Varo shouted. Everyone in the pool cheered, and the shout caught on. “Throw her in! Throw her in!”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” Aria whispered. And then, almost immediately, she winced. She must realise, then, that she’d said exactly the wrong thing.

Nik’s grin widened. “But sweetheart, I want to get you wet.”

“Oh, you filthy fuck— ooh !” she half-screamed as he started running, escalating to a full-on screech when he jumped into the pool, carrying her with him. As they plunged in, Nik pushed her up, so her head wouldn’t be submerged. He doubted she’d remembered to hold her breath in between screaming “You absolute prick!” Plus, he had a feeling that she might punch him if he got her hair wet.

The water felt ice-cold against his sun-warmed skin. When Nik’s feet hit the bottom of the pool, he pushed up and broke the surface again, sending a spray of water arcing through the air. He shook his head like a dog and grinned in the face of her death-glare. “What? You don’t want to swim?”

“For all you know, I can’t swim!”

He slid his arm around her waist, pulling her back against his chest. “You don’t need to swim. I’ve got you.”

“Oh, bugger off,” she muttered. But her hand rose to slide over his jaw. She turned her head and kissed his cheek. It was that kiss, combined with her soft arse pressing against him below the water, that sent every drop of blood in Nik’s body rushing to his dick. He was hard as a fucking rock, painfully hard, within seconds. And he saw the instant Aria felt it, because her smile faded, and her eyes flashed up to his, wide and questioning.

He froze. They hadn’t discussed this, because he hadn’t expected this. He wasn’t some kind of depraved sex pest. Regardless of his hopes, he had not foreseen a situation where he ended up rubbing his erection all over Aria in front of about twenty people. And because of those twenty people, he now had to let go of her in a way that wouldn’t seem suspicious.

Or at least, he thought he did. Until she reached up and kissed him.

Because his friends were all five years old, a cheer went up the minute her lips touched his. Fireworks would have been more appropriate, because for the second time in his life, Nik was absolutely undone by a kiss. It was the way she arched her back, pressing her arse harder against his cock, and the gentle tug as she sucked his lower lip into her mouth. When the tip of her tongue teased his, Nik actually moaned. He wanted to shove down his trunks, slide her bikini aside and thrust his aching—

“Heads!” Varo shouted. One of the three footballs in play plopped into the water beside them, sending up a huge splash. Aria broke the kiss with a laugh, as if it was that easy. As if she could go from that impossible heat and uncontrollable need to carefree playfulness within seconds.

Which, clearly, she could. But Nik, for the first time in his life, was struggling to do the same.

She pulled the ball closer with her fingertips and shouted to Varo, “What am I supposed to do with this?”

“You’re on my team,” he grinned. “Bring it over here.”

“She’s on my team,” Nik managed to growl.

“Too late,” Aria teased, her tone sing-song. “Sorry, love.” She leaned in to kiss his cheek and whispered in his ear, “How am I doing?”

Then, as reality filtered in—as he remembered that she wasn’t his, that the kiss hadn’t been real at all—she winked and swam away.