Page 56 of The Match Faker
“Nick.” I punch him in the shoulder.
He grins, unaffected. “You’re a rocket, Jasmine. What do you want me to say?”
“I’m starting to feel a little too objectified.” I cross my arms over my chest to cover myself again.
“Sorry.” He shakes himself. “You’re right. If you don’t want to go swimming, we don’t have to.”
“Just go without me.”
He arches his eyebrow. “And leave you with Grandma? Nah.”
He’s got a point. The old bat pretended she couldn’t hear me at breakfast but had no problem hearing anyone else.
And Tilly’s exuberance for her Uncle Nico this morning tugged at heartstrings I thought were long dormant.
“Maybe I can wear one of your T-shirts. That could hide all…” I circle a hand in front of me, gesturing to my chest. “This.”
“Or you could trust me when I say that truly…” He rests a hand on my shoulder, his palm warm, the touch both comforting and electric. “No one will be paying attention to your bathing suit.”
I shake my hands out, my worry a knot in my abdomen, pulling tighter and tighter. I want not to care, like Nick does, but the code in his genetic makeup that gives him that ability is one I’m lacking.
“The only person who needs to care about what you think is you,” he says, like he can read the thoughts on my face. “Do you like how you look, Jasmine?”
“Yes,” I say quietly, heart thudding against my chest. “I do.”
The pipes in the wall make a whooshing noise. One of the niblings, a straggler, yells as he runs down the hall outside our room.
“Do you?” I keep my tone casual. I shouldn’t care. I wish I didn’t. I want to not.
His irises are almost black as he homes in on my face in the mirror. “Since you’re asking, I do. I think you could blow our cover. I’ve never brought a girl home as beautiful as you.”
I pick at my cuticles to hide the flush. “You’ve never brought a girl home at all,” I remind him.
“Are you really nervous?” he asks. Not like he’s skeptical. Just checking in.
I nod. My hands twitch with the need to fix this, but I’m not sure I can.
“What can I do to make it better?”
It’s like when I played that word association game in the high school cafeteria with my friends: What’s the first thing you think of when you think of Todd?
Kissing.
What can he do? The first thing that comes to mind is lying beside him last night, how my skin vibrated at his proximity. The way he kisses, like it’s the most important thing he’ll ever do.
Jade’s voice is in my head, entreating me to let him dick me down.
Maybe he sees the flush in my cheeks or how I sneak a glance at his hand, still gripping the marble, because Nick straightens behind me and places his hand gently on my hip. Then he asks again, “What do you need, Jasmine?”
It’s not about what I need. Maybe it’s about what I deserve. I think of him on his knees, his lie. The way he played me for a fool.
I clear my throat. The hairs too short for my ponytail tickle the back of my neck.
He presses in behind me.
The words are stuck in my throat. For once, I don’t want to be the uptight girl, high-strung, in her head. “I need a way to… I need to relax a little.”
This bathing suit doesn’t leave much to the imagination, but he looks at me like I’ve hidden secrets beneath my skin.