Page 71 of How He Got the Girl
Once my teeth are brushed and I’m in my makeshift pajamas, I head back to Mallory’s room. My pulse skitters as I settle onto the bed beside her. One of my legs hangs off the bed as I try to find a comfortable position that doesn’t involve me touching her.
When I finally stop moving, I let a long breath out through my nose. The whole room smells like a tropical dessert, enveloping me in Mallory’s signature scent like a warm hug. The intoxicating aroma mixed with the knowledge that she’s beside me begins to lull me to sleep when there’s a shift on the bed beside me.
“Are you still awake?” she whispers.
“Yeah,” I answer groggily, slowly blinking my eyes.
Mallory adjusts her position to look at me. “Do you think the world believes us?”
“You mean that we’re dating?”
She nods.
“I don’t usually read the comments section on my posts. I learned to stop doing that a long time ago.”
“Why?” Mallory laughs.
“Let’s just say that some overzealous fans have said things I wish I could forget.” I grimace, thinking of the…colorfulthings some of the women said. “But I’ve read some of the comments on our posts lately, and people seem to have positive things to say. Plus, Karina would call me if there were concerns about the legitimacy of our relationship that I hadn’t heard about.”
“I’m glad it’s working.” She places her hand on my arm. Her fingers are cold, but warmth is the only thing coursing through me at her touch. Her willingly touching me while in the comfort of her childhood bedroom has joy coursing through my veins. Because here I know it’s not for an audience or to make our relationship look believable…it’s because she wants it, too. “Hopefully, it will help you get that audition for your dream role.”
Those words put an instant stop to my joy. I spent one day with Mallory before, and spent years searching for her.Waitingfor her. Now, the thought of leaving after I finally found her and we’re taking positive steps forward seems unfathomable.
I swallow down the lump in my throat. “Thanks, but I’m happy just to be here with you.”
She’s quiet long enough that I think she’s fallen asleep. I move to face the other direction because if I keep lookingat her, I might not be able to keep the promise I made to stay on my side of the bed.
I feel her shiver beside me. “Griff?” Her tired voice calls to me in the darkness like the North Star guiding me home.
“Mmm?” I turn back to her.
“I’m cold, and there aren’t any extra blankets.” Mallory fidgets with the sheets. “Will you hold me?”
I rub my eyes, not positive that I’m awake because this feels like a sweet dream. “You’re sure?”
She meets my gaze, nodding. So, I scoot closer, wrapping an arm around her. Mallory leans into my hold, resting her head on my chest and placing her hand beside it. Surely she can hear and feel how hard my heart is pounding, how it races for her. She snuggles against me, one of her legs intertwining with mine.
It takes only a few minutes for her breathing to even out as she falls asleep. I don’t know when I’ll get another moment like this, so I breathe it in, taking a mental snapshot of her in my arms. The rhythmic way her chest rises and falls against my side. The smell of her tropical shampoo under my chin.
I lean down, pressing a kiss to her mess of waves. “I’m falling for you, beautiful. I don’t think I ever stopped.” The whispered words don’t feel as scary in the night, where no one else can hear them. But it doesn’t make them any less true.
Waking up with Mallory in my arms is an indescribable feeling. No words can accurately express what it feels liketo hold her. How she fits against me as if we were molded for each other.
How can I ever leave her now that I know the small sounds she makes while she sleeps? And the adorable doe-eyed look she has when she stirs awake in the morning.
Everything about her is perfect to me. I wouldn’t change a single thing.
I smile. “Good morning.”
She blushes and sheepishly dips her head against my chest. “Morning.”
“Are you ready to head downstairs? You know, before they think we’re up to no good,” I tease, repeating her words from yesterday.
She rolls her eyes, pushing up off me and scooting out of the foot of the bed. “I’m always ready for monkey bread and presents.”
“What’s monkey bread?” I hop out of bed and rifle through my bag, grabbing an emerald-green sweater and a pair of jeans, along with my deodorant.
Mallory stops rifling through her suitcase to turn and look at me. “You don’t know what monkey bread is?”
