Page 43 of Fake Out

Blinking my eyes open, I take in her sleeping face. She’s even more beautiful than yesterday, if that’s even possible.

Realizing I’m having the thought, I chuckle to myself. If the guys on the Thunderhawks could see me now, they’d be slack-jawed. The Charlie they know never falls for a woman like this. He’s moving on nearly as soon as he finds a girl.

But I’m not that Charlie anymore. I’m a new Charlie.

Or maybe I’ve really been this guy all along, and he’s just now coming to the surface.

Marissa stirs in my arms and opens her eyes, squinting against the light.

“Morning,” I murmur, brushing a strand of hair from her face. She blinks up at me, just as dazed as I am happy.

“Charlie,” she murmurs back, a sleepy smile gracing her lips. A warmth spreads through me, starting from my chest and radiating out to the tips of my fingers, and then down to my toes.

Something shifts between us then — something I can’t quite put my finger on. But it’s not unwelcome. It’s like we’re no longer two separate entities but parts of one whole, like two pieces of a puzzle fitting perfectly together.

“Were you just lying there watching me?” she murmurs.

“Would I get in trouble if I said yes?”

A soft laugh escapes her. “Depends on what you were thinking.”

A grin pulls at my lips. “No dirty thoughts if that’s what you’re implying. Just… happy ones.”

Her eyebrows arch in surprise. She pushes herself up on an elbow to look at me, her hair cascading around her face like sunlight. “Happy thoughts?” she echoes, voice soft and full of curiosity.

“Yeah,” I reply simply. My thumb caresses the back of her hand absently, tracing the lines and creases etched on her soft skin. “Like… how beautiful you are in the morning light. How right it feels to wake up with you by my side. How I’d like this to be every morning.”

The surprise on Marissa’s face slowly turns into something softer, more vulnerable. Her eyes grow bright, lips parting slightly as she processes my words.

“You… you mean that?” she whispers, sounding as shocked as I feel for saying all that out loud.

With a nod, I confirm it. I’m not sure where this sudden urge to open up is coming from, but there’s no denying it now. And seeing the light in Marissa’s eyes only solidifies my feelings.

“I do,” I say firmly, entwining our fingers together. She stares at me for a moment longer before leaning in, bringing our lips together in a gentle kiss.

Arousal stirs in me, but at the same time, my stomach growls. Breaking the kiss, I look down at her. “How about I order some room service?”

She laughs, a melodic sound that makes me want to capture it, hold on to it like a precious gem. “Yeah, I guess we should eat something,” she murmurs, nuzzling her face into my chest and wrapping an arm around me.

I grab my phone from the bedside table, scrolling through the room service menu, one hand playing with Marissa’s hair. I read out some of the options and we make our choices before I place the order.

While waiting for our breakfast to arrive, we lay there in contented silence. With every breath I take, I can smell her shampoo — cherry blossom and something else I can’t quite put a finger on. Her nails draw lazy patterns on my bare chest sending waves of comfort through me.

Just when I begin to drift off again, there’s a knock on the door.

“I’ll get it,” I say, disentangling myself from Marissa and pulling on a pair of jeans that lie discarded on the floor from last night.

I open the door, and a polite room service guy enters with a cart loaded with food.

After he sets down the sumptuous breakfast on the table by the window, I tip him, and then he wishes us a pleasant meal and leaves.

By now, Marissa has slipped on one of my shirts that hangs loose on her petite frame, making her look even more endearing.

She pours coffee into two cups and hands me one. “Thanks.” I let my gaze linger on her.

“What?” She sips her coffee.

“When we get back to Chicago, I’d like you to come over to my place. Hang out there with me as… not my agent.”

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