Page 35 of Acting Merry
He lets me push him the rest of the way before disappearing into the bathroom.
I let out a breath, staring at the closed door for a few seconds before turning and making up the bed as well as the materials will allow. The whole time, I can’t stop thinking about the last couple of hours.
The tearing up during the movie—twice—theI don’t do relationshipscomment…they’re messing with the picture of Cole I’ve put together in my head. I don’t know where to fit those oddly shaped pieces.
Once the pillows are in place, I look at the bed I'll be sleeping in. It’s a queen with a fluffy comforter, two large pillows, three throw pillows, and a little stuffed reindeer.
I grab the reindeer and put it on Cole’s bed instead.
The door opens, and he emerges. His gaze flits to the bed, and he cocks a brow.
“Thought you might want the company,” I said. “Since you’re afraid of the dark and all.”
He picks up the reindeer and places it in the crook of his arm like a toddler with a security blanket. “Definitely. Ready for lights out?”
I nod as he walks over to the switch.
He waits until I get under the covers before flipping it.
The image of his smile lingers in front of my eyes in the dark. I stare up at the ceiling, listening to his footsteps, then the sound of the air mattress shifting under his weight.
The shifting stops for a few minutes, then happens again. And again. And again.
“The mattress is miserable, isn’t it?” I finally say.
“No,” he says. “I’m just…hot.”
“Oh. Well, you don’thaveto use the blankets I so meticulously placed on your bed if you don’t want to.”
He laughs, and the darkness of the room somehow enhances the sound, like my only active sense is heightened. “I already threw it off a few minutes ago. I usually sleep with…less clothes on.”
“Oh.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“You can crack a window,” I offer.
“And wake up to you as a popsicle? Not quite a world’s-best-boyfriend move. I’ll really be fine.”
“If you need to shed some clothes so you can get some sleep, just do it, Cole. I promise not to read anything into it.” And yet, my mind has already conjured the image of Cole pulling off his shirt.
“Thanks,” is his amused reply.
There’s no sound of shirts or pants coming off, though. Just silence that lasts minutes until I start to wonder if he’s fallen asleep.
“That thing you said about Bree,” he says. “Did you mean it?”
My brows knit. “What thing?”
“About feeling bad for her.”
I open my mouth, but no words come out for a few seconds. “I was mostly joking. You’re just…very charming, and I guess I can see how she might’ve misinterpreted things.”
More silence.
“I didn’t act with her like I’ve acted with you,” he finally says. “I don’t purposely mess with women’s hearts. I’m not a complete jerk. I just…don’t like getting attached.”
My eyes are trained on the ceiling, and I will myself not to feel anything in response to those words. Cole doesn’t like getting attached. He’snotgetting attached. He’s playing his part because tonight’s meant to be for fun, not forever.
