Page 37 of Acting Merry
I shouldn’t worry about it, either. But we’re past risk now.
I’m attached, and I’m a little worried what it’ll feel like todetach.
nine
Cole
I rollonto my side and wince, my eyes fluttering open at the discomfort in my lower back. It’s still dark, and it takes me a while to register where I am.
The cabin. But why does the cabin hurt so much?
It doesn’t take long for me to realize that I slept on the floor.
Well, slept on the floor with a deflated air mattress as a buffer.
My groping hands land on the reindeer stuffed animal Reese gave me last night, and my mouth curves into a smile in the dark.
There’s no movement in the room, but slowly, my eyes adjust enough to see the outline of Reese’s body under the blankets on the bed. The beautiful, soft, back-cushioning bed.
Wincing slightly, I turn onto my back again and claspmy hands on my bare stomach. I got so hot in the middle of the night, I couldn’t stand it anymore and took off my shirt. It felt weird to strip when Reese was still conscious, so I tossed and turned as quietly as a plastic air mattress allows. By the time I was satisfied she was asleep, the mattress had deflated. I thought about refilling it but didn’t want to wake her.
I also thought about getting in bed with her, but that’s a whole other can of worms that may or may not be related to the deflated mattress issue.
Given that I’d already nearly cried in front of her twiceanddelved into my anti-relationship history, I figured a little distance was probably preferable, even if it meant a crappy night of sleep.
I don’t know what came over me last night. I stare at nothing in the dark room, regretting my vulnerability. I haven’t cried about my mom in literal years, and for some reason,Home Alonetriggers it?Twice?
Something about watching Kevin wake up to his mom gone just…hit too close to home. I can still remember those feelings. Except my mom never came back.
I straighten my shoulders, even though I’m lying down. I need to get it together. I’m Reese’s fake boyfriend. That means I do and feel only fake things, and I definitely don’t get real-triggered by a kids’ Christmas movie.
Reese brought me here because she didn’t want to feel like Brady’s leftovers while she watches him devour his next meal. She wants to look wanted, and that’s a job I cando. Too easily. Playing Reese’s boyfriend comes crazy naturally despite my lack of experience.
Maybe my system has pent-up boyfriend behavior that needs an outlet. Is that a thing?
Whatever it is, my focus today will be on making sure Reese doesn’t have time to dwell on Brady and Megan because I’m too busy making her feel like a queen. I’ve caught her looking at those two a few times, and I hate the look in her eyes when she does.
The sky starts to get brighter, and I quietly get up, grab my rumpled shirt, and go to the bathroom to address the urgent issue of the two morning b’s: breath and bedhead. I shoot off a couple of work texts while I’m at it, letting them know I won’t be there today after all.
When I come out, the room has lightened substantially, and Reese is stirring.
Her eyes flutter open and settle on me for a few seconds, then get big.
I smile at the confusion. “Good morning.”
She pushes herself up on her palms, blinking quickly, then uses her fingers to comb her hair down and tuck it behind her ears.
“Good morning.” Her gaze flicks to my mattress. “You deflated it already?”
“Um…yeah.”
“And I didn’t wake up?”
“Nope.”
“Huh.” She throws the covers to the side. “I’m usually a pretty light sleeper.”
“You sure snore a lot for a light sleeper.”
