Page 8 of A Very Cheeky Christmas

But this isn’t my first rodeo. I know how this story goes.

Hot guy flirts with frumpy woman. Frumpy woman gets too emotionally involved. Hot guy moves on. Frumpy woman has broken heart.

There’s no mystery about how this is going to go down.

Still, I relent, sitting down on the other side of the bed and stretching my legs out in front of me. It won’t hurt to sit here for a few minutes.

Growing up in the movie industry may have made me cynical, but I do have some compassion for the wounded.

Andrew gives me a slightly goofy smile, then takes my hand in his and places it on his head.

I roll my eyes, but I keep my fingers threaded in his hair, gently massaging his scalp while he falls asleep. Since I have my phone with me, I access one of my textbooks and begin reviewing some material from last semester, which is exactly as gripping as you can imagine. Nothing makes a medical textbook more riveting than trying to read it off a tiny phone screen.

I know better than to let myself fall asleep next to Andrew, because things like this never end well.

chapter five

Andrew

I didn’t really expect to fall asleep. Sure, the Xanax I’d taken had me nicely relaxed, despite the pain, but I didn’t think I’d be able to fall asleep with Max next to me in bed. But her rubbing my scalp definitely lured me into dreamland. When I wake up, it’s to find her asleep next to me.

She’s curled on her side facing me, one hand tucked under her chin, the other holding her phone like she fell asleep while reading something.

The instant I see her lying beside me, I know. My entire being fills with calm certainty. This—right here—is how I want to wake up every morning for the rest of my life.

Of course, I knew that from the moment I saw her. Feeling it again now, it’s like a punch to my solar plexus. A confirmation that every gut instinct I have is right.

I reach out and brush a lock of her nearly black hair off her cheek and tuck it behind her ear. I brush a thumb over her cheek as her eyes blink slowly awake.

There’s a moment, before she remembers that she thinks she doesn’t like me, where she looks sleepy and warm. Vulnerable. It’s all I can do not to pull her toward me and kiss her. But I don’t want to scare her off.

Still, I do want her to know where this is going.

“Sweet thing, you didn’t strike me as the kind of girl who stays over on the first date.” I wink at her.

She blinks again, some of the sleepiness leaving her gaze. “Wait. What?” More blinking as she raises herself up on her elbow. “This isn’t a date.”

“Sure it is. We’ve spent most of the day together. We’ve both had our pants off at one point or another. And the date’s not over yet.”

“This is not a date.” Her eyes narrow grumpily.

She is adorable.

“You’re adorable,” I repeat the thought out loud. There’s no point in keeping my opinions to myself, since I’m not playing games.

“You’re full of shit.”

“I’m really not,” I tell her with a grin.

Her frown deepens and she seems to realize for the first time that she’s laying in the bed with me. She scrambles to her feet and props her hands on her hips. “Let’s get you up and get some food in you. Then I can give you more painkillers.”

She helps me to my feet and I’m man enough to hide my groan of pain. It’s a little embarrassing how much such a simple injury aches. She must see me wince, because she stays by my side as I walk to the bathroom.

At the bathroom door, she steps aside.

“You’re not going to follow me in and help?” I tease.

She rolls her eyes. “I think you’ve got this.”