Page 145 of Surprisingly Us

Damn. I look rough.

I splash water on my face and attempt to finger-comb my hair before making my way back to my bedroom.

On my way back to my bed, my eyes are drawn to the sight of Rhys lying there. His head is turned to one side with a few strands of his dark hair falling over his forehead. There’s a bit of scruff on his square jaw and his left arm is bent and tucked under his head, making the bulge of his bicep bring my attention to the dark ink covering it. There’s something about seeing himthere, the contrast of his golden skin covered in black ink against my dainty pink and white floral bedding that’s so alluring.

He’s sexy and hot and all the other adjectives that come to mind to describe a sinfully attractive man, but as much as I’m attracted to Rhys physically, I also know his heart.

Under my heavy gaze, he stirs. Crap, I need to clean him up before he wakes.

I start with a gentle swipe but immediately his eyes open to find me hovering above him.

“Hey, good morning.” His eyes drop to where I’m wiping. “Whatcha doin’?”

“I drooled on your chest,” I announce, hoping that acting like it’s no big deal will relieve the anxiety building in my chest.

His lips curve up into a gorgeous smile.

“It was kind of hot.”

“What?” I shake my head, confused. “Drool is not hot.”

“No, I mean temperature-wise, it was warm on my chest.” He motions to the spot where I’m still wiping.

“Oh, sorry.” I finish cleaning him up.

“I didn’t mind. You can drool on me anytime you want.”

My chin wobbles at his sincerity.

“Hey. Come here.”

He wraps me in his arms again and I love the feeling of him holding me. It’s the only thing that made last night bearable. Fresh tears sting my eyes at the tenderness with which he rubs my back.

Find yourself a man that holds you when you cry and doesn’t think you drooling on his chest is gross. I’m not sure what category this type of caretaking falls under. We’re not in public so he doesn’t have to be my fake fiancé right now, but he’s going way above and beyond as a friend. It’s exactly what I need, even if it only adds to what is becoming a very complicated fake relationship.

I sniff, pulling back to finally take in his pant-clad legs. “You slept in your pants?”

He shrugs. “Yeah.”

They’re expensive and designer, I’m sure, and right now they’re a wrinkled mess, but he doesn’t seem to care. Maxine jumps up on the bed, pushing herself between the two of us, with the hopes of getting double the pets. Now his pants will be covered in cat hair, too.

Rhys strokes a hand down her back, but keeps his attention on me.

“What do you want to do today?” he asks.

It’s Monday. For the first time ever, my calendar hanging in the kitchen feels overbearing.

I can’t recall a day where I’ve woken up and not gone through my planned schedule in its entirety. I’ve also never felt like this. So raw and frayed at the edges. Like I’m barely being held together.

And right now, a workout and studio time feels foreign to me. I want to yank the calendar off the wall and throw it out the window.

An unfamiliar idea forms in my head.

I need a day off.

“Absolutely nothing,” is my response.

Rhys smiles and it eases everything inside me. “You’re in luck. I’m the master of doing absolutely nothing.”

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