The Problem With Pretending Read Online Emma Hart

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Funny Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 126850 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 634(@200wpm)___ 507(@250wpm)___ 423(@300wpm)
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“Come here, you stupid bird,” a new voice said. “She’s not a ruddy intruder. S’cuse me, ma’am.”

A foot appeared on the cushion next to me.

“Intruder! Intruder!” Chewy yelled, still flapping above me. “Troll in the kitchen!”

“Gotcha!”

The flapping stopped, but it was replaced with a wail that sounded like a catfight, to be honest.

I pulled the cushion down and peered over the top of it. “Is it safe?”

A cage door clanged shut, and the man whose foot had appeared next to me smiled. “He’s contained, ma’am. Sorry about that.”

“I’d say don’t worry about it, but please do. He’s starting to make a habit of that.” I glared at the bird. “And if you’re trying to quote Harry Potter, the troll was in the dungeon, not the kitchen.”

“Dungeon! Dungeeeeon!” Chewy hollered.

“Come on. Back to your room,” the unnamed man—also known as my hero—said, taking him out.

“That bird’s a bloody menace,” James said, watching as he went.

“No kidding.” I sucked the cut on my hand. “He’s got some claws on him.”

“Are you all right?” William asked, reaching for my hand. “Do you need something on that?”

“It’s a scratch, not a broken bone. I’ll be fine.” I smiled. “But thank you.”

“At least we can tick that off the bingo card,” he said brightly.

I glared at him.

“What bingo card?” James asked, looking at us like we had two heads each.

William and I shared a look, and he shook his head. “Never mind. Although I do owe Freya fifty quid now.”

“What for?” James laughed.

“We had a bet on whether or not Chewy would attack Grace again. I lost.”

My jaw dropped. “You bet on that bird attacking me? You arsehole!”

“It was a—ahhh!” He fell sideways on the sofa as I beat him with the cushion that had just protected my face from the bird. “Ow, ow, ow! Stop! Grace!”

“No!” I kept whacking him with it—his arm, his shoulder, his legs, everywhere. “You dick!”

James laughed, walking out of the room. “I’m leaving you to that.”

“Arsehole!” I hit William again, and he did an about turn, grabbing hold of the cushion and wrenching it from my grip. “Give that back!”

“Absolutely not, you menace!”

I scrambled for another one, but he was fast, and he knocked away every cushion within my reach, then wrestled me down to the sofa. “Noooo! Let me go!”

“No! Not while you’re beating me with a cushion!”

“You took my cushion!” I laughed, kicking my feet out. “William!”

His laughter was loud and deep and belly-shaking, and it danced over my skin, making it prickle with goosebumps. His hands clasped my wrists firmly but not painfully, and when I met his eyes, I realised where I was.

Beneath him.

Hands pinned either side of my head.

His face mere inches from mine.

His body hovering over me.

My laughter petered out as every hormone in my body sparked to life. Every nerve ending jumped awake, and his grip on my wrists burnt with the same warmth his exhales brushed over my cheeks.

“Get off, you brute,” I breathed, looking up at him, completely mesmerised by his eyes.

“No.” His eyes shone with both laughter and something else, something darker and deeper. “Not until you promise not to do it again,” he replied, his lips pulling to one side. “Well?”

“I won’t do it again.” I couldn’t fight my smile as I lied.

“You’re lying.”

“Are you calling me a liar?”

“If you’re lying, then I am. Well?”

“I won’t do it again,” I repeated.

“Do what?”

“Hit you with the cushion.”

“Do you promise?”

“Will you let me go if I do?” I tilted my head slightly, making sure my lips weren’t aligned with his.

I didn’t trust myself.

Not with the attraction that was running rampant through my body right now. My heart was pounding against my ribs, and if I stayed here much longer, I wouldn’t be able to breathe properly.

“Do you promise?” William repeated, some of his hair flopping down over his forehead. “It’s a simple question.”

“No,” I replied, letting my lips quirk up. “I don’t.”

“Then I’m not letting you go.” He grinned. “You started this.”

“I did not. You started it with your bet!”

His grin widened. “I bet that it wouldn’t happen.”

“Terrible choice.”

“Evidently.” He dipped his head a little closer to mine. “Now, are you going to promise not to hit me again, or are you going to lie there and keep pretending that you aren’t enjoying this?”

“I’m not enjoying this,” I argued. “At all.”

“Mhmm.” He lowered his head further, adjusting his body without releasing his grip on my hands. “Grace, the sooner you admit to yourself that you’re just as attracted to me as I am to you, this weekend will be far easier.”

“I’m not attracted to you,” I whispered, turning my head away from him, slowly exhaling to keep my breathing under control. “How big-headed of you to assume so.”

“You’re a bad liar, do you know that?” He moved his fingers, pressing them gently into my skin. “I can feel your pulse, Grace.”



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