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I elected to sleep in the oldest pair of sweatpants I own and a holey old t-shirt I stole from my dad years ago, but right now it all feels like too much. Hell, I’m pretty sure I’d be overheating if I was naked with no blankets.
Making peace with the idea that the only way I’ll be able to get out of his embrace is with him awake, I steel myself against whatever shitty attitude I’m going to be greeted with the second he opens his eyes and cough as I push myself forward as far as I can manage.
His arm releases me almost immediately, and I’m out of the bed, tumbling to the ground before I can take my next breath.
Did I want to fall off the edge of the bed on my first morning as a married woman?
No.
And yet here we are.
Honestly, at this point, it tracks.
I stay put in the hope he’ll go straight back to sleep and I’ll escape the embarrassment, but I’m just not that lucky.
Doc’s head pops over the edge of the bed. His salt-and-pepper hair is mussed from sleep, and his dark gaze is just as menacing as when he’s fully lucid.
“Did you fall?” he grunts.
I open my mouth to cuss him out, but snap it shut again. What’s the point? We’re both stuck in this marriage and although I’d love nothing more than to tell the asshole that he decided cuddling was included in our fake marriage, instead I take the high road and nod. “Yep.”
Before he can respond, I shove myself to my feet and disappear out the door before I can change my mind.
At least my new life is every bit the nightmare I thought it would be.
Ido a pretty good job of avoiding Doc throughout the morning, or maybe he’s avoiding me. Either way, I don’t see much of him as I browse my course schedule starting tomorrow. I didn’t love my major when I was in Boston, but I have a feeling I’m going to hate it a whole lot more now that I don’t have any of my friends or the teachers I’ve spent the last few years convincing to pass me even when I was on the wrong side of the pass line.
I shove my laptop across the table and reach for my phone, unsurprised to find no messages waiting for me.
Bree probably went out last night and will be asleep until at least three in the afternoon if history is anything to go by. Or at least that’s what I tell myself to ease the pain in my chest. She wouldn’t have forgotten about me this quickly. We’ve been best friends since before we could walk, there’s no way she would have moved on that quickly.
As if summoned by my bad mood, Doc appears in the doorway with a grimace across his face. Or maybe that’s just how he looks, because I haven’t really seen him without it at all now that I think about it.
“I’m going out,” he says gruffly, barely sparing me a glance.
“Okay.”
“Do you have everything you need to start school tomorrow?”
I shrug. “I guess.”
“If this is going to work, you’re going to get a whole lot better at communicating.”
“Says he who grunts more than he speaks.” I scoff. “And who are you kidding? This isn’t going to work, regardless of communication. Fifty percent of marriages end in divorce, and I’m sure as hell that number doesn’t include shams like ours.”
He advances on me so quickly that I barely get the chance to stand from my chair before he’s in my face, towering over me until I feel every last inch of height difference between us.“You better hope our marriage doesn’t end, spitfire, because that would mean Spade has his hands on you, and that will be far worse than being married to me.”
I open my mouth to respond, but he turns on his heel and is out the door before I can think of the first word, let alone the whole damn sentence.
Maybe starting school won’t be such a bad thing. At least then I’ll have a little more freedom.
One thing’s for sure though, I’m sleeping on the couch tonight.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
DOC
Isla is every bit the pain in my ass I thought she would be.
