The Bookworm's Guide to Faking (The Bookworm's Guide #2) - Emma Hart Page 0,76

“I have no idea.”

“What channels do you have?”

“I have no idea. I don’t watch sports.”

“Surely you know if you have sports channels.”

“Sebastian, I read and watch Netflix. How would I know?”

“You pay the cable bill, don’t you?”

“Doesn’t mean I’ve ever looked at the sports channels.” She shrugged and pulled her keys out of her purse as we reached her apartment. She put the key in and unlocked it. “I don’t watch them. Why would I know?”

“Three billion women in the world, and I choose the one who doesn’t watch any sport at all to be my girlfriend.”

“I’m not your girlfriend.” She let us in and unzipped her coat. “We haven’t gotten that far yet.”

I took off my coat. “You’re my girlfriend.”

“This is feeling very middle school.” Holley walked into the kitchen. “Do you want a hot chocolate? I swear I’ll remember the marshmallows this time. And I’m not your girlfriend.”

I watched as she pressed the button on the electric kettle to turn it on. We were back to bickering over semantics—which was fine, it was fine—but it wasn’t going to last long.

By the time I left, Holley Stuart would know she was my girlfriend.

I kicked off my shoes and walked over to her. She didn’t know I was here, so it was easy to come up behind her and trap her against the counter. She squealed when I pressed myself against her back.

“What are you doing?”

“Trapping you so I can argue with you and use my body to my advantage,” I murmured, dipping my head to kiss the side of her jaw.

She swallowed. “It’s not going to work.”

“It’s going to work.”

“I don’t sleep with people on the first date.”

“Then thank God we’re not on a date.”

She pulled two mugs down from the cabinet above her head. “I don’t know what you’re trying to achieve.”

“It would be great if I could convince you to admit that you’re my girlfriend.”

“What are you, five?”

“No, but I am determined.”

“It’s been twenty-four hours since we had the conversation about seeing where things go. You’re already putting a label on it.” She scooped cocoa powder into both mugs.

“I know, but there’s a benefit to admitting you’re my girlfriend.”

“Oh, is there? And what’s that?”

“I can do this.” I swept her dark hair to one side, exposing the side of her neck so I could kiss it.

“You appear to be doing it anyway,” she breathed, dropping a teaspoon in the right mug.

“Is it convincing you yet?”

“Nuh-uh.”

“What if I do this?” I ran my hands down her sides until I was grasping her hips. I pulled her back so her ass was snug against me and she had no chance of escaping my hold. My lips went to her neck once again, and I kissed a trail down from her earlobe to her collarbone.

“Not convinced,” she said, but her voice wasn’t as strong as before.

“No?” I kept kissing her, leaving soft, firm kisses over her tender skin.

Holley tilted her head to the side, her breath hitching when my teeth caught her neck. “No.”

She was full of shit, but if she was going to play this game, then so was I.

I buried one hand in her hair and pulled her head to the side, tilting it so I could kiss the corner of her mouth. I dotted kisses along her jaw, flexing my fingers on her hip, pulling her against me more firmly.

She turned her face and her lips found mine. It took her two seconds to turn around and wrap her arms around my neck. The ferocity of her kiss took me by surprise for a moment, but it didn’t last long before my body reacted to her.

I kissed her deeply, taking control. She didn’t mind if the way she yielded to me was any indication. She sank against me, and as her tongue found mine, desire rushed through me.

Fuck.

“Convinced yet?” I murmured against her lips.

“Not entirely,” she replied, her voice just as soft as mine. “And I don’t think you’re going to convince me in the kitchen.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes.” She took my lower lip between her teeth and tugged lightly.

Well, well, well.

Here was a side of Holley I hadn’t expected.

“Where do you think I can convince you?” I tilted her head back and kissed down her neck.

“That way,” she breathed.

“I can’t see where you’re pointing.”

“Through there?”

“The sofa?”

“Oh, for God’s sake, Sebastian. My bed. Take me to bed.”

I pulled back and grinned. “Demanding. I like it.”

“I’ll change my mind.”

“No, you won’t.” I pulled her in for another deep kiss,