Page 132 of Faking the Goal

I rub the back of my neck. "...Sorry. I honestly didn't realize I was doing it that much." I grimace. "I'm not exactly great with social cues. People tell me I come across as serious or brooding even when I don't mean to."

"Brooding?" She snorts. "That's adorable."

I narrow my eyes.

"You're not brooding. You're a judgmental prick."

I drop my head with a sigh. "Yeah. I know."

She doesn't say anything, and when I look at her again, I make sure she can see that I'm not trying to argue my way out of this.

"And I'm sorry. I really am." I hold her gaze. "I know I was an asshole to you, and after what I said the other night, I'm probably the last person you want to trust right now. I'm not asking you to forget about it or forgive me just because I apologized."

Her expression loses some of its bite, but she stays quiet.

"I just want the chance to make it right. Before I fucked everything up, we were actually starting to get along, and I..." I pause, choosing my words carefully. "I liked that. I'd like the chance for us to start over, if you'll let me. You can stay pissed at me for as long as you need to. Just let me prove that I'm not the asshole I've been making myself look like since the day we met."

I almost wince.

That isn't exactly a compelling character reference.

"And right now, whether you trust me or not, I want to help you with this." I glance toward the shit spread across her coffee table before looking back at her. "This guy is escalating, Taylor. I don't want to wait around and find out how far he's willing to take it. If pretending to be your boyfriend makes him back off, then that's what we do."

She studies me for a long moment before finally opening her mouth.

"You do understand what convincing actually means... right?"

I nod.

"It means people have to believe we're together."

"I know."

"No." She shakes her head. "I mean really believe it."

My expression doesn't change.

"There'll be hand-holding."

"I know."

"Hugging."

"I know."

She hesitates. "...Kissing."

Fuck.

Of all the words she could've said, apparently she had to pick the one capable of immediately shutting down every useful part of my brain.

Because now I'm looking at her mouth.

Those fucking lips.

Naturally rosy, soft, and responsible for distracting me more times than I'm willing to admit. I've wondered what they'd feel like against mine for longer than I even realized I was attracted to her, and now my traitorous brain decides this is the perfect time to supply me with the image.

Taylor kissing me.