Page 55 of Scrooge

“I don’t believe it.” Even though his nose is red, and his eyes are tired, he still looks drop-dead gorgeous as he gifts me with another grin.

“We are all human, Alex. Even me.”

We sit in our words for a while, until I see his eyes slowly close, and I lean over and kiss his forehead, the same move he has done countless times to me. As I pull back, a small snore escapes his lips, and I smile, content as my own eyes start to close and sleep pulls me under.

* * *

Alex is officially better.Still a little sneezy, but otherwise, his daily green juice and his twelve-hour sleep were enough to reset his body. I have stayed here in the penthouse with him all that time. Ensuring he had everything, made him eat, gave him pain relief. After sleeping in his bed with him last night, I thought we would feel awkward around each other today, but it is the opposite. I woke to find him already in the shower, and so I made the bed and went out to the kitchen to get my coffee.

“Let’s go out for dinner tonight?” he asks, as I watch him sip his morning espresso from where I sit on the sofa. I have commandeered this little spot. In the corner of the sofa, I am able to see the kitchen and dining room, but also have the sweeping view of the skyline. It’s comfortable. Probably because I am the first person to sit on it. I look at him where he is standing. I’m not sure if this is a date-date or a legal document date. Are we actually dating, or are we just doing what we need to for our agreement?

“Are you feeling up to it? I mean, I will need to go home and change and…” I start to say, trying to figure it all out as he cuts me off.

“Laurent is coming today with a wardrobe of clothes for you, and I know you had plans to go back to work today. Think of it as my thank you for playing nurse,” he says as he puts his cup on the kitchen counter and walks toward me.

He looks amazing. His suit fits him to perfection. His hair is slicked back, his eyes clear, and his face looks like he is extremely well rested. I could get used to this morning view. My commute is literally nonexistent from the penthouse to the shop, and if I have to spend my morning hours looking at this man in a suit instead of fighting for a seat on the subway, I would happily do it. I, on the other hand, rolled out of bed this morning, desperate for my coffee, a shower, a hair dryer, and an egg and bacon bagel from the shop around the corner from Tucker Toys.

“I don’t need a thank you,” I say, standing as he stops in front of me in the living room. “Looking after each other when we are sick wasn’t written in our agreement; I just did it because I wanted to.” I lift my hands and adjust his tie, not that it needs it. The move feels oddly domesticated for two people who are only tied by a fake engagement. Yet that has been us for these past few days. Ever since he proposed, we have kind of fallen into each other more and more. I leaned on him for Deloris, and he calmed me, helped me get her better, and made sure she was safe. Now I have helped him, looking after him when he was sick.

His hand lifts to my face and cups my cheek. “I want to take you out. The agreement has nothing to do with it. I just want to be with you,” he says as his thumb brushes gently across my skin, and I look up into his eyes, seeing him watching me. I flatten my palms against his chest on his lapels. He moves his other hand, grabbing mine, keeping it on his chest as his thumb brushes over my skin.

I swallow, deciding to talk about the elephant in the room. “So, um, I slept in your bed last night…” I say, taking in a deep breath, and he smirks a little.

“I know. Best sleep I have ever had,” he says smoothly, waiting and watching for my reaction. My heart picks up pace at the look in his eyes.

“That… wasn’t part of the agreement.”

“Neither was kissing with tongue. If I recall, you specifically mentioned no tongue,” he says with a playful squint to his eyes, and I huff a laugh. I would like more kisses like that, legal document be damned.

“But I am finding it increasingly difficult to stick to any agreement with you,” he adds, and my heart is a permanent jackhammer as I nod in agreement.

“Okay. Let’s go out,” I whisper, my mouth suddenly dry. The lines are blurred, but he seems sure. His stance is strong as he holds himself with certainty. He wants me, and I know that I would probably do anything this man asked me to right now. And that is a dangerous position to be in.

25

ALEXANDER

Icanceled on Logan. We were meant to meet for drinks tonight, but I wanted to take Haylee out instead. I don’t want to be without her. That kiss on Thanksgiving was a long time in the making, and now, after she has spent days at my penthouse with me, seen me at my most vulnerable, fed me soup, and slept next to me, I’m trying to figure out how I can get rid of this stupid agreement and just make her mine. I should feel bad for bailing on Logan, but I don’t. He will survive. He is probably already flirting with the poor, unsuspecting bartender at whatever bar he’s holed up at.

Taking her out tonight at least keeps her at the penthouse for another night. I had Laurent make us a reservation here as well as ship a new wardrobe all in her size to my place, no longer wanting her to run between mine and hers every time we have an occasion. And while being seen in public together is what we need to do, I didn’t invite her to dinner tonight because of that. I invited her because I am currently unable to let her go.

Instead, I am at Lucio’s, one of New York's most exclusive and expensive restaurants, with Haylee nervously pulling her ear at my side. She hasn’t done that in days, which almost makes me puff my chest that she clearly wasn’t anxious at my apartment. With me, she feels happy and safe. It’s being out like this, where her confidence wanes a little.

“It will fall off, you know,” I whisper to her, grinning, holding her hand in mine.

“You sound like my mom,” she murmurs before dropping her hand and smiling up at me with a crinkled nose.

“We have your table ready for you, sir,” the host says, and we follow him through the restaurant to the back.

“You look beautiful,” I tell her, knowing that she is somewhat uncomfortable with all the eyes on us. But it isn't a lie, she does. Wearing a dress that hugs her curvy frame, with her silky long dark hair falling around her shoulders, she is every man's wet dream. I let go of her hand and place mine on her lower back, just above her ass. The silky fabric slips against her skin, and I rub my thumb over the small of her back, itching to touch more of her. People look as we walk by, and I stand tall, proud to have her by my side. She is stunning.

“Thank you,” she breathes out, and I know she is trying hard not to grab her ear. That thought makes me smirk. As we take our seats, the host leaves us to it.

“I’m starving,” she says, opening the menu straightaway. It makes me chuckle.

“What? The chicken soup didn’t fill you up these past few days?” Even though Mary’s homemade soup was delicious and exactly what I needed, we’re both ready for a solid meal.

“Better than your grass food you ate today.” She’s referring to my usual lunchtime salad, something she had no interest in earlier.

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