Page 35 of Only Between Us

“Att—Brooks,” I quickly amend, clocking the restaurant line-up and the handful of faces turned blatantly in our direction. “What are you doing here?”

At my words, his gaze rips away from Aidan. Brooks strides over, takes the back of my neck, pulls me in, and—

For the second time in as many days, I gasp against his lips. But there’s no hesitation on his end as he kisses me this time. He tightens his grip possessively on the back of my neck and absolutelydestroysme with his mouth. He parts my lips with his, strokes our tongues together, brings our bodies so close it takes nothing to dig my nails into his hips. He seems to like that. I hear his groan as he kisses me, feel the slight shudder in his body.

What the hell are we doing?

I pull away. Despite my shock, there’s nothing like the sheer satisfaction of having felt that kind of want from Mr. I’m Fake Dating My Stalker. His jaw pulses. Eyes are on fire.

“Well, well.” I smirk. “Still claiming I was the one who kissed you yesterday?”

His eyes close in sheer exasperation. “Please, just shut up.”

Brooks crushes our lips together. Kisses me deeper, harder this time, and I don’t know what the hell I think I’m doing, kissing him back like this. Moaning. Tipping my head, curling my fingertips into his sides just to feel his body react again.

And I hate it.

I hate how much I don’t hate kissing him.

Brooks breaks it off, panting,glaring, and I press my lips together to keep from laughing at how clearly he despises himself for what he’s just done.

“You’re a good kisser,” he accuses, prying the helmet from my hand.

“I know.” I make my smile as obnoxious as humanly possible. “I can give you pointers if you’re open to improvement.”

“You weremoaning. I don’t need improvement.”

“Two words: turbo tongue. Ease up a little, honey.”

His stare is hard, and I amshudderingwith unspent laughter. “I messaged you to see when you wrapped up at the shop. You didn’t answer.”

“How long have you been waiting?” He smells piney and freshly showered, and over his shoulder I can see his gym bag in the passenger seat. He probably came here straight from training.

He lifts an eyebrow. “The internet told me you close at five.”

“You’ve been waiting for me since five?”

“Didn’t I just say that?”

“Brooks, it’s seven o’clock.”

“I can tell time, Pippen. I’m not just a pretty face.”

I blink up at him, unsure if he’s being deliberately obtuse. Ormaybe he simply doesn’t care that he just sat in his car for two hours waiting on his fake girlfriend to finish doing inventory after the shop closed.

What the hell’s gotten into this guy?

Brooks’s gaze drifts over my shoulder. I follow it to find an audience: people lining up for dinner, and Aidan, who shoots me a wide-eyed look that saysholy shit, Cee.

I trust Aidan, seeing as we were friends long before we started and stopped hooking up. But aside from Shy, I figured it was best to keep up the pretense of this relationship with Brooks. Less chance of forgetting who does and doesn’t know and accidentally slipping.

I did have to tell him the media had the timeline of our relationship wrong, though. As far as he knows, Brooks and I met that day on the Huskies field, and he persisted until I agreed to go out with him.

“Oh,” I say quickly. “Brooks, this is Aidan.”

“Figured,” he mutters, just loud enough for me to hear.

“And Aidan, this is—”