“My mother notices everything.” He moved to sit up, eyeing me closely. “If you talked to her more today, she would’ve seen through our act in a heartbeat. I did that to keep her in the dark.”
I forced a tight, pained smile. “Great strategy, then. It worked perfectly. Well done.”
He frowned. “It was the best shot at reaching our goals. Me getting the UK division, and you getting the money for your cat. If you expect me to pretend to be a sweet guy?—”
“I don’t expect that,” I said shortly—even though, stupidly, Ihadexpected him to treat me like a freaking human being. Or at least to not throw the money back in my face. “And I won’t expect anything from you in the future, but I’d really like to be alone right now. Please.”
To my horror, a lump formed in my throat, and I turned away before he could notice. I squeezed my eyes shut to hold the tears back. Over my dead body would I cry in front of Cade.
Whiskey rubbed against my leg, and I scooped him up for comfort. Holding him against my chest, I settled back onto my side.
There was a long pause before Cade spoke behind me. “At least let me sleep on another couch. If anyone sees you alone in here, they’ll ask questions.”
I shrugged as best I could while lying down.
“I’ll say I fell asleep while watching a movie,” I whispered. “Don’t worry. I won’t ruin your precious plan.”
Cade didn’t say anything to that, and the silence stretched—strained and awkward and so unlike the quiet of the other nights we’d spent cuddling. I could feel his gaze on me, and my effort to pretend I was already sleeping wasn’t fooling anyone.
Finally, when my heart had lodged in my throat and tears felt inevitable, Cade slowly got up, and paused again before walking away. Whiskey instantly wiggled in my arms until I let him go, and he jumped down from the couch. The tags on his collar clinked as he followed Cade, and I felt even worse.
My cat was leaving me, too.
Traitor.
Unwelcome tears pooled in my eyes as the door shut behind them, and I grabbed a throw pillow to hold instead.
“Don’t you dare feel guilty, Ellie,” I whispered, hugging the pillow closer. “He’s the one who acted like a jerk. Not you.”
Too bad the heart didn’t care about logic.
Sniffling, I settled in for a long, lonely night.
chocolate croissants
. . .
Ellie
Ellie’s Guide toProfessional CuddlingBeing a Fake FiancéeNOT Falling for Your Fake FiancéHiding Any Trace that You’ve Fallen for Your Fake FiancéKeeping It Together, Tip #23: Chocolate always makes things better.
Waking up cold and alone was…not fun.
Definitely wouldn’t recommend it.
My eyes were sore from crying, I was still in my wrinkled shorts and yellow crocheted crop top from yesterday, and I missed my little furball cuddle buddy…and the furnace of a man I’d gotten used to sleeping against.
On groggy legs, I stumbled through the dark room, eager to leave. Opening the door back to civilization backfired quickly—the hallway lights were freakingbright—and I took one step before tripping over something unexpectedly solid.
The world tipped over. I yelped. My arms flailed for purchase as I fell, earning a masculine grunt from the thing I landed on.
A pair of strong arms stopped me from face-planting completely, but I still ended up sprawled over an unmistakably human lap with my eyes squeezed shut.
I peeked one eye open—only to find Whiskey staring back at me from his throw pillow throne an inch from my nose.
He blinked before licking his fluffy paw, unconcerned by my fall.
Risking a peek over my shoulder, I found my butt sticking up right in front of Cade’s face, his surprisingly alert gaze focused on it.
