Page 27

Sex sandwiches. Who knew?

Apparently carbs hit different after being fucked because when Alex returned to our tent after gathering lunch for the both of us, I was ravenous. I finished my sandwich quicker than he finished his, and his shock was made evident as he watched me dabbing my mouth with a napkin, blue eyes dancing.

“Worked up an appetite, did you?”

“Shut up.” I was losing track of how many times I’d said that to him over the last three days. His lips curled into a pleased smile.

“You normally eat like a bitty little bird. It’s good to know that that was all an act.”

“It wasn’t an act.” I threw my balled up napkin at him, and he caught it with a leer. Demon. He was a demon. Apparently fucking me made him even cockier than usual. Which was as infuriating as it was adorable.

Christ, I…I was having a hard time unpacking just how good sex with Alex wa s. Sometimes it really felt like he could read my mind. He knew exactly what to do and how to do it for maximum effect. The double penetration? Holy fuck, I had not expected that. But I was certain to think about it for…the next millennia, let’s be honest.

Normally my skin was too tight for my body, my head like a brittle rubber band ready to snap. But right now…after such an intense scene and the frankly perfect aftercare, I actually felt…good?

Like breathing came easy.

Like my thoughts weren’t treacherous.

Loosey fucking goosey.

I’d never realized how much goddamn fun sex could be. That communication itself could make it better. That there were so many options—and ideas, and possibilities. Alex made me feel unafraid to try the things I’d never known I wanted. He was the perfect partner to explore with, all endless enthusiasm and sharp wit.

The fact it’d taken him less than a day to figure out how to take me apart?

He was amazing.

Truly fucking amazing.

I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had this much fun. With anything , honestly.

“Sure, sure,” Alex teased. He finished his sandwich with two massive, disgusting bites, then used my somewhat dirty napkin to clean his mouth. I made a face and he snickered. “You touched it,” he shrugged. “It’s better than mine.”

“You’re so gross,” I replied, glancing at his clean napkin pointedly. “Do you want me to touch that one too so you’ll actually clean your face?” There was a smudge of mustard on Alex’s bottom lip that he’d missed.

“Sure.” He eyed me curiously, like he couldn’t wait to see what I was about to do. Which was so fucking weird and nerdy and cute—all at once. After some internal debate, I reached over to grab Alex’s unused napkin. This is so weird, why are you entertaining it? That thought didn’t stop me from pressing a quick kiss to the corner. My cheeks flamed, but Alex looked so pleased I managed to fight through my embarrassment to shove the napkin against his chest.

“There’s mustard on your—” I mimed the corner of my mouth.

“Here?” He grinned as he dabbed his face where I’d indicated on mine.

“Lower.”

“Here?” He tried again.

“Got it.”

“Thanks.” Alex folded the napkin up, then stared at it—like now that I’d kissed it he was debating the merit of keeping it versus throwing it away.

Now who was the raccoon?

“Don’t even think about it.” I laughed, kicking a leg out to connect with his thigh. “It’s trash, Alex, not a memento.” The motion made my ass twinge pleasantly, and I sighed, leaning into the movement so I could feel it longer. Normally, the sensation dulled by now—and I had no doubt its lingering had everything to do with how fucking full I’d been stuffed.

“I’ll let it go if you offer to kiss something else for me,” Alex waggled his dark brows playfully, dimples showing he was smiling so wide. My guard still hadn’t gone up, even though the fuzz from my orgasm had faded. Another miracle.

“Fine. What?”

“I haven’t decided yet, but I promise you’ll know as soon as I figure it out.”

“I’m not kissing your hockey skates,” I grunted. I attempted to extricate my foot from Alex’s leg but he latched onto it, fingers digging into the sole like it was second nature. He didn’t even seem to notice he was doing it, his hands moving on their own.

“You remembered I play hockey?”

“You told me three days ago.” My flush burned even brighter, and I looked up at the sloping tent ceiling so I wouldn’t have to see the look in his eyes. The truth was…I remembered everything Alex had told me about himself. He didn’t share much—so I clung to each tidbit almost desperately.

We were on a timer.

I knew that.

But I couldn’t help but feel greedy.

We were toeing a line between friendship and something more, and I didn’t know how to cross it, or even if I actually wanted to. My mom thought I did. Her reaction when we’d talked had made that clear. But my own feelings were far more complicated. Too difficult to easily understand—not without some deep, thorough thinking.

And I wasn’t sure I was ready for that.

If I crossed that line, what would happen? After the wedding? When I went back to New York? Alex had made it clear he had no interest in something outside the terms of our “contract,” for lack of a better word.

If he wanted something more he’d say something.

He’d promised to be honest.

Which meant…I was stuck in limbo, waiting.

If I opened my mouth I could ruin what little time left I had with him, and even though “miscommunication trope” was one of my least favorites, I couldn’t help but feel like my behavior was justified.

What-ifs were too…unpredictable.

What if these feelings keep growing?

What if he wants more?

What if I want more?

Even though I know relationships rarely, if ever, were equal.

It was better to stick to what we’d agreed, and deal with the consequences.

It felt so raw and real and confusing to know that I had walls and fortresses and lines galore—and Alex was somehow allowed behind all of them. I’d been burned before. Badly. And I wasn’t talking about my hand—ha! Or my shoulders.

Was I…strong enough to survive that again ?

Another uncertainty.

I needed to make sure not to take this too seriously, or I’d risk falling even farther for him.

“George?” Alex’s voice pulled me out of my head. I blinked, shaking my head to clear it. “Hey…” He was in my space a second later, the scent of his cologne tickling my nose as his fingers danced up the inside of my wrist. “You okay?”

He was worried.

Funny, I’d been concerned about him earlier too—when his focus had drifted at the beach. The parallels between us were as hilarious as they were unfunny. Complementary, just like us. Black and white. Yin and yang.

“I’m fine, I was just…thinking.”

“Is that a good thing?”

I wanted to quip at him, say something biting to make him laugh. But…I didn’t. I was still fuzzy around the edges, and despite my tumultuous thoughts, I was full of certainty that Alex was here to comfort—no—Alex was ready to comfort me.

He saw it as an extension of what he’d done in the boathouse.

And who was I to deny him?

“I’m feeling a little overwhelmed,” I admitted, giving him the honesty he’d requested even though we were no longer in a scene.

“What do you need?” Alex asked, instead of dismissing my feelings. “A hug?” God, he was so quick to offer those. “Snuggles? Another sex sandwich? A bottle of water? Some back scratches? What?—”

“A hug would be nice,” I confirmed—and it ached.

It ached so badly to ask for what I needed. Because I hadn’t before. And I was realizing…the more time I spent with Alex, how often I’d ignored my own needs to please everyone else. He paid such close attention it was impossible to be dismissive of myself when he was by my side. As though he wouldn’t allow it .

Alex’s arms wrapped around me, squeezing me tightly into his thick chest. His breath tickled my ear. One big, solid hand stroked down my back just like it had when we’d been naked and he’d been inside me.

“Do you want to talk about what’s overwhelming you?” Alex asked, chest rumbling beneath my cheek. Christ, he was the best hugger in the world. Better than Mom, even. I blamed his pecs.

“It’s just…a lot,” I admitted—once again surprised by the honesty. “Being with you makes me realize what I’ve been missing.”

“That’s a good thing, isn’t it?” Alex’s hand swiped up and down, and I melted. “That was the point. Why I offered this—why you accepted. So that you could know what it feels like to be treated right.”

“I suppose so,” I agreed.

His lap looked so inviting.

Inviting enough that I crawled into it—even though it was mortifying to do so—the mattress making a squeaking sound as we moved. It didn’t pop or give, which was good. The last thing I needed was to feel more embarrassed. Alex rearranged my legs so that I was sitting sideways, face tucked into the space beneath his ear, hidden away.

Cradled there, I really did feel safe, especially when his hand continued to rub my lower back, and his other hand gripped my hip tight so I wouldn’t fall.

“I suppose…” My lips brushed his throat. “It’s good to know…that there are better options out there.” I paused, gathering my thoughts. “I’ve never been with someone who…matches my…” What was the word? “Energy? It’s always felt so…one-sided.”

“Believe me, I totally get that.”

“Yeah?” My heart stuttered.

“Sometimes…” Alex trailed off, like he wasn’t sure he wanted to keep speaking. He sucked in a breath, uncharacteristically defenseless. “I think…there’s not a single person out there who can handle my intensity.”

It was a very vulnerable thing to say, made more vulnerable by his tone of voice. All of Alex’s masks were gone. I got the feeling this was the most authentic he’d ever been.

“I like your intensity,” I whispered, just as soft.

Alex made a noise, crushing me tight as he breathed me in. “You say that,” he laughed, “but you’ve only been with me on good days.”

I didn’t know what to say to that.

“Anyway.” Alex quickly changed the subject before I could get my thoughts together. Which was unfair. But…I’d run from him so frequently, I didn’t fault him for his own version of avoidance. “I think it’s good. Feeling overwhelmed right now. Shows you the inverse of what you’ve had, right? So you know what to look for. That’s why it’s a good thing this is temporary. A trial run. For your next relationship.”

“Right.”

“Options are always good. Remember what I said about revenge?” Alex was really trying to distract me now. Talking fast. Almost manic. Like he regretted opening up the way he had—like he couldn’t get his mouth to stop, even if he wanted to.

Hesitantly, I stroked a hand down his back.

He settled.

“Breathe.”

He breathed.

“Are you getting what you wanted out of this, too?” I asked, keeping my tone soft.

“ Yes .” Alex’s voice cracked. “You’re the best temporary boyfriend ever.”

“The feeling is mutual.” Understatement of the century. I wanted to push—but this time, Alex was the one at risk of running, so I didn’t.

Alex had said the best revenge was being blissfully, happily in love with someone other than Brendon. But what if I…didn’t want revenge?

What if I just wanted Alex?

Wanted the days we spent together to never end? This camaraderie. The playfulness. The warmth?

I needed to stop focusing on the future and simply enjoy this. There were still four days left until I left for home. Four days of kissing in the summer sun, of laughter, of feeling Alex’s hands just like this.

I really needed to stop thinking that this was anything but temporary. As special as I currently felt, tucked in Alex’s arms and pampered by his affection, I knew I wasn’t actually special. Practice boyfriends weren’t real boyfriends, after all.