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His eyes widen.
I cough. “Not—I don’t mean we should sleep together. Just… you don’t have to... I’m fine with you on the bed. If you stay on your side.”
“My side.”
I nod.
He shakes his head. Blows out a breath. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Please?” I beg. “I’d feel better if you weren’t on the ground.” Glancing at where Gwen is watching TV, I lower my voice. “When your mom leaves, I’ll take the guest room but, for now, neither of us should suffer.”
Brogan frowns. Hard.
Feeling awkward, I get up, rinse my bowl and run to join Gwen in the living room.
Brogan retreats down the hall.
After a while, Gwen turns the TV off and yawns. Patting my knee she says, “We should head on to bed, sweetie.”
“I’ll clean the kitchen first.”
“No, I can do it.”
“I insist,” I say.
Gwen studies my face. “Alright.”
I try to put off going to bed for as long as possible, but Gwen’s such a stickler for cleanliness that there are only a few dishes to wash anyway. After wiping down the counter a few times, I give up and head to the bedroom.
Brogan is sitting on the bed, typing something on his laptop.
He doesn’t watch me when I walk in.
Taking his cue, I say nothing to him and hurry to the bathroom to change into a tank top and a comfortable pair of sleeping shorts.
Gripping the edge of the marble sink, I stare at my flushed reflection. “Listen up, Elizabeth. This doesn’t have to be anything more than sharing a bed. Just… pretend you’re having a sleepover with Novah.”
I blow out a deep breath.
That tactic is falling apart by the second.
There’s no way I can pretend Brogan is Novah.
Not with the way I feel about him.
I groan at my reflection. “You’re screwed.”
Brogan knocks on the door.
I jump.
“You almost done in there?”
“Yes!” I hurry and pat some water over my hair so the curls pop a bit more and then open the door.
Brogan stands there, his toothbrush in hand.
“It’s all yours,” I say lamely, gesturing to the bathroom.
