Hastily grabbing the first shirt I see—cursing that it just so happens to be his black T-shirt that’s two times my size—I’m ready to bolt to the bathroom when I hear a light groan, followed by sheets ruffling behind me.
Don’t wake up, please don’t wake up, please?—
“Zach?”
Yeah, what else did I expect when it comes to me and my sorry luck?
I stop in my tracks, slowly turning to him, and promptly freeze once again. Nothing could prepare me for the sight of Harvey freshly awoken from sleep.
The sunlight seeping through the window hits him at the perfect angle, highlighting his smooth skin and the red scratch marks I scored on him last night. His hair is sticking up in all sorts of directions, but even then, it feels as if it’s purposely messy in a way only he can pull off.
He rubs one eye sleepily, and the other focuses on me as I let out an awkward, stiff chuckle.
“H-hey uh . . . Morning.”
“Good morning,” he murmurs, his voice husky from sleep. As he stretches and yawns, I can’t help but admire the definition of his muscles. He then flings the blanket off, and suddenly I’m reciting the Hail Mary in my head, as he shuffles to stand directly in front of me in all his naked glory.
“Why do you look like you got caught doing something?” He pauses, his gaze flicking from the shirt in my hand to looking straight into my eyes. He snorts. “Shag and dash, huh?”
His tone makes him seem as though he’sdisappointed?
“No-no, I wasn’t trying to...” I stutter. I’m not trying to shag and dash. I only want to avoid an... awkward situation.
“Then why are you out of bed so early?”
My gaze darts to the clock on the nightstand. Uhm... when is nine thirty in the morning consideredsoearly?
I scratch the back of my brain for something to say and then take a shot in the dark. “I want... wanted to uh... make breakfast?”
“Breakfast.”
“Yes.” I’m having a hard time trying to look at anything but his elephant trunk and praying he grabs something to make himself decent.
Harvey crosses his arms and raises an eyebrow at me.”You don’t even know how to boil pasta.”
Right. I took a shot in the dark and promptly somehow shot myself in the foot. My stomach decides at that moment to add to my mortification by rumbling loudly, like an earthquake.
There’s an awkward silence as we stare at each other.
Then Harvey chuckles. He tugs me gently into his arms, runs his hand over the back of my neck, and kisses me on the temple.
“How about you go ahead and shower first while I make breakfast for us? How do strawberry pancakes with whipped cream, bacon, and coffee on the side sound, Honey?”
“Uh... delicious?” I mean, his breakfast will probably turn out ten times better than whatever I’d try to throw together.
“Perfect. The bathroom is the first door on your right. I have new toothbrushes in the vanity drawer. I’ll also throw your clothes in the washer, so pick something to wear from my closet.” He grins, kissing my forehead once more. Grabbing our clothes from the floor and the shirt in my hand, he walks out of the bedroom. My eyes follow his every movement.
Well, that was . . . unexpected . . . ?
Doesn’t he want me to leave? Our fake-boyfriend operation is now over, so why is he still being so nice?
Last night, I practically pounced on him, craving his touch more than ever before.
The sex we had was mind-blowing, the best I’ve ever experienced in my twenty-seven years of existence.
I’m not quite sure what the future between Harvey and me is going to look like from here on out. We seem to be more than just friends and business partners, and if I’m being honest, these past few days have felt like a dream. For the first time, real or not, it feels like I’ve found the person I’ve been searching for.
I’d promised myself never to mix business with pleasure after what happened with Judas, but here I am, already having feelings for a man who could make or break my business. If Harvey finds a real boyfriend down the line, will he still be this nice to me?