Chapter 10

Taking a breath, I look down. I never knew how dangerous eye contact could be.

"Okay," I mutter, pushing him away as I can't breathe with him this close. He turns his ball cap backwards, and my insides warm at the bad boy vibe he gives off. I look away, not comfortable with the direction my mind takes when he flips that damn hat backwards.

He holds his hand out, his blue eyes conveying he wants me to shake it.

Slipping my hand into his palm it's just like I thought, callused and firm. Solidifying that he does like to get his hands dirty. I wonder what else he likes to get dirty... He squeezes my hand and I shake my head of the thought.

"Deal," I murmur, hypnotized by the size of his hand and the way it feels around mine. It makes me small, and vulnerable. Protected.

"We should swear on a Bible," he arches a brow, as if my word isn't my bond.

I cross my arms. "I don't have a Bible."

A sly smirk pulls at his lips. "Naughty girl," he whispers. "Now, let's go through my rules," he grabs a notebook off my end table. The cover of it displaying a middle finger, and he flips it to a blank page. Using his teeth, he pulls the cap off the pen.

"What about my rules," I ask, not entirely sure what my rules would consist of, but I should have rules. I need rules. Damn, I have to come up with some rules.

"Yeah, sure." He shrugs, acting as if my fine lines are nothing. "Rule one," he reads aloud as he writes. "Don't fall in love with me."

I snort. "I don't think that will be a problem." Love, what a stupid notion.

"Yeah, that's what they all say," he replies seriously. I give him a double take. All? He really is an asshole.

"No sleeping in the same bed," I point at him. He reluctantly writes it down.

"So I guess sex is off the table then..." he writes it down.

"Absolutely. Like ever!" I say with force. Sex is a gateway to your heart.

"Make a man feel insecure why don't you," he huffs, looking back down at the pen and paper.

"I'm sure your ego is just fine." I give him a side look.

"Hand holding?" he glances up from the paper. "I mean, we're going to have to have some physical contact to make this believable," he continues.

"Hand holding is okay." I nod in agreement but my insides are fluttering like someone released a swarm of butterflies... or bees.

"No kissing though," I burst out. He looks at me like I'm ridiculous. "Not on the mouth," I clarify. "There's something about kissing someone on the mouth that breaks barriers and makes –"

"So you're turned on by kissing. Got it," he makes a joke out of my rule and I flip him off. A man that knows how to kiss might as well be a spell. A woman loses her mind, her will, and her soul.

"Well, you'll never know now will you," I taunt him with a cheesy smile.

"I usually don't kiss girls that are emotionally damaged," he jeers. My mouth pops open, offended.

"I'm not damaged!" I clip.

"Right. Take a look at this and sign it," he hands me the paper, tucking the pen behind his ear.

"Sign it? Really? We're going that far?" I narrow my eyes.

"Yes, sign it," he declares seriously. "We have to make this look and feel real if anyone is going to believe it. But we need to protect ourselves in the process. So this paper is a reminder that we won't break these rules. Rules that will keep us within an inch of crossing the line from fake to a real couple," he informs, making more sense than I pegged him for.

I snatch it from him looking it over.

No falling in love with me. Even though Rae will really want to.

No sleeping in bed because Rae wants me to wear her legs like earmuffs and farts in her sleep.

No sex because Rae has an eighties bush and something might bite me.

No kissing on the mouth because Rae wants me to kiss her somewhere else.

I roll my eyes. "Your ego is obviously bigger than your brain," I opine.

"But not as big as something else." He winks like the devil and I avert my eyes to the paper in fear I'll look at his package. It's hard. Keeping my self-control intact that is.

"Regardless, I'm not signing this," I act unaffected by his one liner. "And I don't fart in my sleep," I state.

"I'll be judge of that," he retorts.

He hands me the pen, a playboy smile on his face. Glaring at him I write another rule. An important rule.

Don't play with Rae's hair because Max's sausage fingers smell like sweaty balls.

Then I sign it.

Looking at me suspiciously he takes the paper from me and looks over what I added.

"My fingers don't smell like sweaty nuts," he sounds offended.

"I'll be the judge of that." I raise a brow.

Not taking his eyes off me, he signs it.

"Why do I feel like this is your first big commitment?"

"I had a two-year cable plan and it went horribly wrong, after that... I second guess everything." He flicks his gaze at me before finishing his signature.

I shrug in agreement. Those plans can be tricky.

"Now," he rubs his hands together like he's about to dig into an extra-large pizza. "We need to get to know each other. From our first lay, first kiss, what size bra you wear-"

"Whoa, I'm going to stop you there." I hold my hand up, my eyes as wide as saucers. He smirks, that bright smile of his adorable, yet like nails on a chalkboard. He's such a player this is going to be harder than I thought.