Page 82 of A Little Jaded
“Does it matter?”
“To me, it does.” I bring her a little closer. “I’m also sorry I called her babe, and you had to hear it.”
She drops her chin lower, choosing to stare at the top button of my dress shirt instead of my eyes. “It’s not a big deal, but…you’ve never called mebabe, and we’ve been fake dating longer,” she admits dryly. “I guess it took me by surprise. How easily you fell into the role with her.”
“Stormie.” I bend closer and brush my lips against the sensitive patch of skin beneath her ear, causing her breath to hitch. But she doesn’t push me away. Doesn’t let me go. “You deserve more than a generic nickname. You’re more thanbabe. You’re Stormie. A pain in my ass, but the good kind.”
“There’s a good kind of pain in the ass?” she challenges.
I tug her even closer, keeping us pressed together as I run my lips against her skin for one more taste when her cool breath hits the side of my face.
She turns toward me, lining our lips up, though I doubt she realizes it. “What are you?—”
“I’m your boyfriend, remember? Gotta play the part.”
“Is that what you’re doing?” Her tongue darts out between her lips. “Playing a part?”
My brows dip as my attention bounces from one forest iris to the next, though I have no fucking clue what I’m searching for. “You tell me.”
“Honestly, I’m not sure,” she admits, though the words are so hushed, I don’t know if they're for her or for me.
“Let’s say we’re both still playing the part,” I offer. “What happens next?”
“If I was playing a part, I’d tell you to kiss me.”
“Oh?”
“Mm-hmm.” She tugs me closer, making me bend until her lips brush the shell of my ear. “I’m not the only one who can see them watching.”
Them. The guys who bothered her a few minutes ago. Fuck, I almost forgot they were even here. I glance to my left, finding them hanging out at the bar. They aren’t even looking this way, too caught up in flirting with the bartender, though I’m not sure it even matters.
Bringing my attention back to the girl in my arms, I push, “And what if you weren’t playing a part?”
“Depends.”
“On what?”
“On you.” She leans back, putting more space between us as we continue dancing. “I’m glad the date went well, at least.”
“It wasn’t a date.”
“And this isn’t real, right?” she counters, lowering her hands from around my neck. “You looked nice tonight. I didn’t tell you that when you left.”
“Thanks,” I rasp. “You look nice tonight, too.”
She laughs quietly and looks down at her outfit. “Thanks.” Peeking up at me again, she adds, “I, uh, I think we should call it a night, don't you?”
“Depends,” I reply. “Why?”
“Maybe we could both use a breather.” She reaches for my fingers and tangles them with hers. “For the crowd. Come on.”
We say our goodbyes and head outside. It’s snowing now. The flakes float down from the dark sky in small flurries, and Raine folds her arms. When we reach the car, I open the door, help her inside, and grab my tux jacket from the back seat, offering it to her.
Her brows dip, but she takes it and slides her arms through the holes, letting the back of my jacket cover her front.
“Seat belt,” I remind her.
“Oh.” She reaches for the strap, but I beat her to it, sliding it across her chest and leaning closer as I buckle it in place. When I realize I’m leaning over her, my body freezes, and my eyes fall to her lips.