My Fake Boyfriend Is the School Bad Boy novel Chapter 50

Chapter 50 A Fake Kiss That Lasted Too Long

The heavy green glass of the bottle sat completely motionless on the plush gray carpet. The long, narrow neck pointed directly at the center of my chest, an undeniable, physical sentence handed down by a stupid party game.

The silence in the sunken living room was absolute. The thumping bass from the kitchen speakers felt a million miles away.

No one laughed. No one cheered. The collective anticipation was a thick, suffocating weight pressing down on my shoulders. Every single person in the jagged circle was waiting to see if the honor roll scholarship girl and the school’s most dangerous burnout would actually

follow the rules.

“Well, look at that,” Chase Montgomery drawled, the smug satisfaction in his voice scraping against my completely frayed nerves. “The universe has a sense of humor. Clock’s ticking, Steinmann. Unless you’d rather take the vodka?”

Chase nudged the half-empty bottle of cheap, clear liquor sitting on the carpet with the toe of his sneaker.

I stared at the green glass bottle. My hands were tucked under my thighs, trembling so hard they ached. My logical brain screamed at me to grab the vodka. To take the burn of the alcohol, swallow my pride, and refuse the kiss. It would be easier. It would be safer.

But if I took the shot, the entire performance collapsed. Harper Vance would win. My scholarship would be back on the chopping block by

Monday morning.

I had to do it. It was just a kiss. A brief, clinical pressing of lips to satisfy the audience. Five seconds of discomfort to secure my entire

future.

I took a shaky breath, preparing to turn my head and get it over with.

But Ryder was already moving.

He didn’t look at Chase. He didn’t look at the vodka. He shifted his entire body, turning his broad shoulders fully toward me. The heavy, worn leather of his jacket creaked loudly in the quiet room.

He moved into my personal space, completely blocking out the rest of the circle. The harsh overhead light from the kitchen was cut off, casting us in a private, heavy shadow. The scent of him-sharp peppermint, deep cedarwood, and the faint, lingering trace of the damp night air-washed over me, instantly drowning out the smell of stale beer and nervous sweat that filled the room.

I looked up.

His hazel eyes were incredibly dark, the shards of gold burning with a raw, focused heat that completely stripped the breath from my lungs. He wasn’t wearing his indifferent mask. The bored, arrogant bad boy was completely gone.

“Raisa, he murmured.

His voice was a dark, gravelly whisper that barely carried over the space between us. It wasn’t a question. It was a low, heavy warning.

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Chapter 50 A Fake Kiss That Lasted Too Long

I couldn’t speak. I just gave a tiny, rigid nod.

It’s just for the contract, I told myself frantically, my heart hammering a brutal, punishing rhythm against my ribs. It has to look real.

Ryder raised his left hand.

I braced myself, expecting him to grab my shoulder or lean in quickly to get the spectacle over with. But his movement was slow, deliberate, and incredibly agonizing.

His bruised knuckles grazed the line of my jaw. The rough, thick calluses on his long fingers slid against my pale skin. His thumb settled just beneath my cheekbone, the pads of his fingers wrapping around the back of my neck.

His skin was searing hot. The contrast against my freezing, trembling body sent a massive jolt of electricity straight down my spine.

I gasped softly, my lips parting just a fraction.

He didn’t wait for me to close the distance. He leaned down, his face hovering mere inches from mine. I could feel the heat of his breath dusting across my mouth. My eyes fluttered shut on pure, overwhelming instinct.

His lips touched mine.

The initial contact was gentle. Testing. It was exactly what it was supposed to be: a brief, convincing piece of theater for the people watching us. His mouth was warm, the slight roughness of his split, healing lip scraping delicately against mine.

I held entirely still, my hands still trapped beneath my thighs. I counted the seconds in my head. One. Two. Three. It was enough. The crowd had their proof. We could pull away now.

I began to lean back, breaking the seal.

Ryder didn’t let me.

The heavy, warm hand resting on the back of my neck suddenly tightened. His fingers tangled deep into the roots of my dark hair, anchoring me completely in place.

Before my brain could even register the shift, he changed the angle of his head. He leaned heavier into my space, his broad chest pressing flush against mine.

He didn’t pull away. He kissed me again.

But this time, it wasn’t a performance. It wasn’t a brief, polite peck for an audience.

It was a complete, devastating takeover.

His mouth claimed mine with a sudden, starving desperation. He pressed deeper, his lips parting mine with a firm, commanding pressure

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Chapter 50 A Fake Kiss That Lasted Too Long

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