Page 67 of Make Her Mine

But deductive reasoning means that I fell asleep watching the movie and Jefferson carried me up to bed.

To this bed.

His bed.

I did not wake up once in the night, so I have no idea if I slept in here alone. He might have slept in the guest room. I told him I wanted this bed because Graham told me it’s the most comfortable.

That doesn’t seem like something Jefferson would do though.

Except…I frown. It does.

Strangely.

If someone had asked me a week ago, I would have said no way would Jefferson let me sleep in the most comfortable bed and taken the other, but now…

He’s been doing little things like that ever since we started this crazy fake relationship. Things that should make sense since he’s playing my boyfriend, but all of this stuff is behind closed doors.

Yes, he’s held my hand and had his arm around me and kissed me in public.

But he also fed me Brussels sprouts and nicknamed me Lily in public.

The sweet stuff, the actual nice stuff, the stuff that would make me like him, has been in private. Letting me eat spicy popcorn. Going to my house to get the spices for that popcorn. Watching the movie I wanted to watch. Giving me a big comfortable shirt when he could have given me a tiny tank or something that would make me truly uncomfortable.

Yes, he ogled my legs in this shirt but…

I liked that too.

Telling me that I deserve to have things I like and want too.

Revealing that he really knows me and telling me that I need someone who can love me as hard as I love other people.

Nope, haven’t been able to stop thinking about that.

I put my hands over my face and groan.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

I like Jefferson Riley.

Dammit.

Okay, to be fair I like some things about Jefferson Riley. Not everything. For sure.

But he’s been easy to be around and fake-date so far.

I might be in really big trouble.

“It’s been one fucking day,” I remind myself. Out loud.

But he watched the movie you wanted to last night, on purpose. He did it because he knows you don’t usually get to watch what you want to.

“It’s been One. Fucking. Day,” I say out loud again, trying to shut the quiet inner voice up.

But it doesn’t help.

I haven’t gotten to sit and watch a movie I wanted to with someone else in a long time. I do watch thrillers, but I typically have to do it alone. Which is definitely creepy.

Jefferson seemed to really enjoy the popcorn too.

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