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Then stone-cold reality hits me. I slept with a man. As silently as possible—and, of course, for fake boyfriend research purposes—I roll over to face Matthew’s side.
It’s empty.
My heart crinkles like a piece of used wrapping paper.
Where is he? I lift the covers. He’s not here. I sit up, resting against the headboard.
Did he move to the couch in the middle of the night?
Oh no. Maybe I snore. “Matthew?” I call out.
Silence.
Through the cracked bedroom door, I can barely see into the living room.
What did I expect, that we’d wake up together? He’d roll over and give me a sleepy smile?
That’s silly. Fake relationships don’t have cuddly mornings in bed. Disappointment washes through me.
I need a distraction.
After taking my Lexapro, I grab my phone and pull up my reading app.
There’s no better way to escape reality than with a book. Especially when the book includes dragons.Wings and fangs, here I come.
Over the next hour, I rotate between scanning the same page over and over and inching my way toward Matthew’s side of the bed. The faint whiff of his smell refuses to stop beckoning me over, and I’m too weak to resist.
Without a smidge of rationality, I toss my phone and sniff his pillow.
Wow.My mouth waters. It’s heavenly. Vetiver. Earthy, woody, and smoky. Heat builds in my core.
Was I always this depraved?
The front door swings open.
Oh god. He’s going to see me smelling his pillowcase like some kind of deranged stalker. I straighten up and launch myself far away from his side of the bed.
From the tiny crack in the bedroom door, I watch Matthew come into the suite, his skin damp with sweat. A white towel hangs over his neck. Somehow, he looks bigger. Is that possible?
My mouth hangs open. He’s…gorgeous.
How hard is he going on the weight machine if he looks like that?
Matthew glances toward the bedroom, and I sink down into the covers. There’s no way he saw me.
I peek my eyes open. A wide grin meets me through the doorway.
“Good morning.” He lifts his hand, the one I almost touched last night, in a small wave. “How’d you sleep?”
“Good morning,” I call back, but he’s already out of view. “Slept great. What about you?”
“Best sleep I’ve gotten all year. Must’ve been those organic sheets,” Matthew says from the living room. The faucet in the kitchenette turns on. “I was reviewing our schedule, and it looks like breakfast is in thirty.”
“Okay, great. I’m just getting up.” I hike up onto my knees and stretch over the edge of his side of the mattress. One brief glimpse of him in all his sweaty glory, and it’ll put all of my tainted thoughts to rest.
“Do you know what this Lover’s Labyrinth activity on your mother’s agenda is going to entail?”
“No clu—” Suddenly, my palms slip off the sheets, and I tumble onto the shag rug with a largeplop. I’m face down, but my legs remain on the bed.
