Page 61 of Perfectly Grumpy

I clear my throat. “Yeah. You sleep okay?”

She groans. “Terribly. I swear I could hear mice under the bed all night.”

“Funny, because you seemed pretty comfortable,” I say, smirking. “I was trapped under a human octopus for most of the night.”

Horror dawns on her face. “No.Nooooo.” She pushes herself up into a seated position.

My grin widens. “Oh, youdefinitelydid.”

Lauren groans and flops back onto the pillow. “This isexactlywhy I don’t share beds.”

She lifts her head long enough to glance around the room. “Where’s the coffee? I need some bad. My head is pounding.”

I slide a hat over my hair. “You think this house has a coffeemaker? Think again, Sunny.” The kitchen is basic at best, with only a mini-stove and a sink. “I’ll get you some coffee at the house,” I say, sliding on a shirt.

As I move toward the door, she suddenly sits up. “You know, we haven’t talked about today. How we should act together as a couple. We need a plan.”

I stop in the door. “Is this going to involve public humiliation of any kind?”

“No, but we didn’t cover how my boyfriends have acted in the past.”

I pause, one hand on the doorknob. “All right, give me the basics. Whatnotto do first.”

“Well, for starters, don’t act like Bart. He always talked about himself, like he was constantly trying to impress people. Just be yourself.”

I nod. “Got it. No acting like the world’s worst boyfriend. That’ll be easy.”

She stretches, like she’s finally waking up. “And if anyone asks how we met, you asked me out to the coffee shop, there was an instant connection, and the rest is history.”

“Oh, come on, you can’t make up a story about how you saw me in the locker room peeling off my jersey and knew you couldn’t resist me?”

Lauren grins. “In your dreams, Sheriff.”

I shrug. “It was worth a try.”

“And most important of all, show them you’re the better boyfriend.”

She hesitates, then adds, “Also, we should probably talk about…touching.” Her eyes flick briefly to me as she starts tidying the bed. “You know, so it looks natural when we’re around the family.”

“You mean like holding hands, that sort of thing?” I ask, trying to sound casual.

“Yeah, and maybe the occasional arm around shoulders or waist. Nothing major, but enough that we don’t look like awkward strangers pretending to date.” She shrugs. “Just so we’re both comfortable with the boundaries.”

I nod, mentally cataloging these acceptable touches like items on a checklist. This is the kind of thing that should come naturally, but for me, it never has.

“I should probably warn you,” I say, rubbing the back of my neck. “I’ve only had one serious girlfriend. And apparently, I did everything wrong in that relationship.”

Lauren tilts her head, frowning. “Why do you think that?”

“She told me so. After dating through college, she decided she wanted someone different. A man who made her ‘a lot happier,’ according to her. Then she gave me a list of things I needed to work on, starting with the first instruction:stop being so logical.” I try not to let the hurt creep into my voice. One month before graduation she dropped me, told me she’d found someone else. After that, I promised myself I’d never put myself in that position again. Never again would I let someone see every part of me and then throw it back in my face by listing my personality traits as weaknesses.

“That’s terrible,” she says, frowning. “Being logical is one of your strengths. I trust your opinions because I know you’ve already thought through everything.”

I look at the floor, kick a piece of stray gravel out of the doorway. “I wasn’t fishing for compliments.”

She stands, wrapping her blanket around her. “I know, but even when Bart broke up with me, I didn’t give him a list of his faults. And there weremany.”

I chuckle. “I’m just surprised you didn’t break up with him first.”

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