Page 119 of The Temporary Fiancée
Olivia
I’m wokenup by the sunlight streaming through Reed’s huge windows. Instinctively, I reach over to where he was sleeping, but the bed next to me is empty. He must have already taken off for work.
I glance over at the clock on his nightstand, then sigh, flopping back against the pillows. I slept later than I meant to. I woke up to get some water late last night, and we ended up having sex again, wearing each other out. It’s a miracle he managed to get up on time.
I slowly get out of bed and wander into the kitchen. There’s a savory, warm smell wafting down the hallway; Reed must have made breakfast for both of us.
When I get to the kitchen, I blink and rub my eyes. There are multiple plates on the counter, piled high with fresh-cooked eggs and bacon, fresh, sliced fruit, and a stack of pancakes. I can smell coffee—and sure enough, the pot is full.
There’s a sticky note next to one of the plates. It reads:
Made sure to order this for you before I left. Thought you might need it to replenish your strength. - Reed.
I grin, feeling sore and sated and happy. I dig into the food eagerly—it’s just what I needed to wake myself up.
As I eat, I pull out my phone to text Reed. The message is half-formed in my mind—something cute and flirty. Before I can finish typing it, though, I hesitate, my fingers hovering over the screen.
I’m falling for him, hard and fast. It’s dangerous, what I’m doing—leaning into my feelings. Playing with fire.
I need to try to get a handle on things. I can’t get used to this; there’s an expiration date on everything that’s between us, and if I want to be able to move on when our arrangement is over, I need to be careful now.
So instead of the funny, suggestive message I was about to send him, I backtrack and type out a simple one. He responds right away.
ME: Thank you for the food!
REED: Of course. It’s no trouble.
I frown at the screen for a few moments, wondering if he can tell that something’s off. Am I being weird?
No.Of course not. It’s just a text.
I need to get a grip.
I finish the rest of my breakfast, then wander into my own bedroom, stripping off Reed’s sweats and t-shirt. I hop into the shower, keeping the water lukewarm in an attempt to clear my head. By the time I’ve stepped out, I’m already feeling much better.
I dry off and dress myself in my own clothes, resolving to do the laundry and return everything I’ve stolen from Reed’s closet. If I’m going to maintain a healthy distance between us, I’m going to have to stop wearing his clothes so much. I might even wear them more than my own.
Which, now that I think about it, is a pretty good indicator that I’m getting too attached.
As I’m drying my hair, my phone starts vibrating on my dresser. I glance at the screen to check the caller ID. It’s my mom.
I turn off the dryer and pick up. “Hello?”
“Hi, sweetie,” my mother says warmly. “How are you today? I hope I didn’t interrupt anything.”
“I’m good! Now’s a good time to talk, don’t worry.”
“Where’s Reed?” There’s a bright, teasing curiosity in her voice, and I grimace a little.
“He’s at work. It’s the middle of the day.”
“Oh, of course, of course. How is he? How are both of you? You know, it’s been a minute since we had you two over for dinner.”
“Yeah,” I say, pressing my cheek against the phone to pin it to my shoulder. “We’re both good, don’t worry. Uh, we’ve just been really busy with wedding stuff.”
“You have to come over soon,” she urges. “Your father and I would love to see you.”
“Of course. First chance we get.” I head out into the hallway, padding toward the living room. I may be wearing my own clothes now, but that doesn’t mean I have to put on shoes. “You sound good, Mom. How have you been feeling?”
