I refuse to let her see me weak anymore. How can she ever want me if I’m still some struggling cripple who can’t function like a normal man? The last thing I want is for her to see me as anything lesser than.
Dark thoughts eat away at my restraint, making me question if this weekend was a good idea. But like everything in my life, my quick decisions lead to drastic consequences.
I work through the phantom pain on my own. Without my mirror, it takes twenty minutes longer than usual for the exercises and mind games to work. And in Chloe’s absence, I struggle to breathe easier as the pain fades away. I already miss her coaxing me out of my mental cloud of self-contempt like she did this morning.
A realization hits me. I’m becoming reliant on a woman who has every opportunity to walk away. And damn, I want her to stay, even if it’s for a little while longer.
Chloe stares at me, her mouth gaping like a fish. It’s cute. Endearing really.
Yeah, you’re fucked. You think everything she does is appealing.
“You’re telling me that we have to share one bed?” Her eyes bounce between the king-size mattress and my face.
“Yes.”
“And one room?”
“That’s usually how the one-bed situation works. Yes.” I smirk.
“Would it be too much to ask for a second room? You are rich and all.”
I shake with silent laugher. She says the word rich with such distaste, I end up respecting her more for it. “Because that wouldn’t be obvious to my family at all.”
She remains silent, but her eyes remain wide as she checks out the room.
“We’ve already done this once. What’s the worst that can happen?”
“Yeah, well, we had a sick child to take care of.” Her eyes darken as they roam across my body.
I grin like an idiot. “And now?”
Her throat bobs as she swallows. “Nothing.”
“Oh, come on. Are you nervous to share a bed?”
“No.”
“Excited?”
She scoffs. “Definitely not.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
“You look like someone who takes up the majority of the bed.”
“The horror.” I gasp and press a palm against my chest.
She groans under her breath and grabs her clothes from her luggage. “I’m going to shower.”
“Do you need any help?”
She throws a bundle of socks right at my face.
My laughter is met with the soft click of the bathroom door closing behind Chloe. Warmth spreads through me at the idea of sleeping by her side.
Oh, yeah. I’m absolutely, positively fucked.
Chloe slides into bed after her shower. The darkness hides her face from me, but her hesitant movements have me raising a brow.
“Good night,” she mumbles under her breath. The sheets rustle as she hugs the edge of the bed.
“If you fall asleep like that, you’ll end up on the floor.”
“Better than the alternative.”
“Which is?”
She scoots closer to the middle of the bed, abandoning the edge. Her hands fumble in the dark, creating a pillow barrier.
The sight of it has me chuckling up to the ceiling.
She sighs.
“Is this the moment you admit to me that you like watching people sleep?”
“No!” She cackles.
“A secret toe fetish?”
“Oh my God. Stop!” Her giggles grow louder.
“Oh, I know. You snore!”
Her body thrashes as her laughs bounce off the ceiling. “I’ve been labeled a stage ten cuddler.”
My interest is doused by a surge of jealousy that catches me by surprise. “By who?” I attempt with everything in me to keep my voice flat.
“Brooke. Supposedly I almost suffocated her in her sleep when we had to share a bed a couple of times. She said I wrapped myself around her like a wet blanket.”
“Is that supposed to be a con?”
“That and a red flag.”
“Well, when it comes to you, consider me colorblind.”
She lets out the most obnoxious laugh that has me grinning. “You’re supposed to run for the hills.”
A laugh bubbles out of me, uncontrolled and unexpected. “You’re strange if you think that’s the case.”
“Well, I didn’t claim I wasn’t weird.”
I point at the poor attempt of a pillow barrier. “You’re also stubborn.”
“I prefer the more positive synonym of tenacious.”
“Okay, Merriam Webster.”
“You’re going to call me another woman in bed? You really are the worst fake boyfriend.” She fake gasps.