Page 78 of You and Me, For Real
He stands, holding down my shoulders, preventing me from getting off the bed. “You’re in no condition to go to work. You can barely walk. You’ll have to call in sick.”
I groan. I hate missing work; the shelter is already so short-staffed.
“If you’re worried about missing the income, we can prop your leg up in a chair, and you can teach Roxy and me lessons while sitting. She and I have already made tremendous progress if I say so myself. We’re quick learners.” His grin stretches wide.
The pride in himself and Roxy is adorable. I’m proud of their strides together, too.
“Besides, we have a party in two days to get ready for.”
“We?”
“Yes, we. I can’t very well attend a dog party without my dog and her trainer.”
“What will Scarlet say?”
“She invited you, didn’t she?”
“Yes, but?—”
“Then, there you go. And she made a good point, it’ll provide some great connections for you. I bet we could get a huge jumpstart on funding your rescue by the end of the night.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Is that so?”
“Absolutely. I’ve got some ideas. But first, you call in sick for a couple of days. I’ll go take care of the dogs. Then, I’ll be back with some breakfast. What do you like to eat? Toast? Scrambled eggs? Cereal? Quiche?” He’s walking backward toward the door. “You know what? Don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of it. You make the phone call.”
“Griff—”
But he’s already out the door, closing it behind him. “Call work!”
I laugh at his bossiness until I pull my phone from my back pocket and find a missed call from my landlord.
Oh crap. I’d completely forgotten about my disastrous apartment. Maybe Miguel called with some good news.
I swipe it open and click on the voice message.
“Ashton, this is Miguel. I’m sorry to have to tell you this, but the mold specialists investigated the problem some more. It’sbad. Real bad. We need everyone to get their essentials out by today. The apartment needs to be vacated in forty-eight hours. Call me if you have any questions.”
My stomach plummets, and I flop backward onto the bed.
I’m officially homeless.
21
ASHTON
“You look killer in that dress.”
I laugh because Wren is over-embellishing the truth. I look mediocre at best in the yellow sundress and flat sandals she’s letting me borrow for the dog birthday party at the Rhodes mansion tonight. Nothing I wore would look “killer” with a bandaged ankle, but I appreciate her moral support. I could use every bit I can get if I’m to survive this party.
“Thank you.”
She stands behind me as I peer at myself in the full-length mirror in her enormous master bathroom. It’s a pampered girl’s dream with an oversized clawfoot tub, a dual-faucet shower, a huge, illuminated vanity, and, of course, a massive walk-in closet the size of my entire apartment.
Wren clasps each of my shoulders and squeals. “Griffin’s gonna die when he sees you in this.”
I don’t know about that, but I wouldn’t mind if he found me more attractive than usual. The extra vote of confidence would certainly be nice while he’s offpretendingwith Scarlet tonight. The thought of having to see them interacting—especially after our wonderful day together yesterday—has my anxiety ampedup. My attraction to him has grown exponentially just in the last twenty-four hours since he revealed the truth about their relationship. Even he’s become more openly flirtatious—in front of Wren and Luke no less. It has me even more nervous about tonight. I’m not an actress. Can I really put aside my growing feelings and pretend like their closeness doesn’t affect me? Will I be able to trust that he’s merely pretending with Scarlet?
Here, in his home, we’re like a real couple. I’m not sure I’m ready or willing to share him—fake relationship or not.
