Page 73 of Surprisingly Us

“For whom?” she asks.

“You, of course. My periwinkle suit and paisley pocket square got you all hot and bothered.”

She laughs. “She won’t believe that for a second.”

I continue massaging her foot while I think about what she said.

“Do you know why Hannah doesn’t like me?”

She sighs. “I don’t know if it’s you specifically. She dated a guy before James that monogamy wasn’t his strong suit, so she’s skeptical about guys like you.”

Guys like you.The connotation never bothered me before. I used to let anything negative easily roll off my back. Zero fucks and all that, but for some reason it’s starting to get under my skin. It’s burrowing deep, a layer that feels impossible to shed.

“I’ve never cheated.”

“Because you’ve never had a girlfriend to cheat on?” she asks.

“Yeah.” I glance back down at her foot, focusing my attention there so I can sidestep whatever unpleasant emotion is making my chest tight.

“Or she might think you’re trying to take advantage of me.” She sighs, tying another piece of tulle onto the waistband. “I’ll tell her you aren’t. That this is mutually beneficial. Although right now, I’m having a hard time remembering what I bring to the table. Your hands are absolute magic.”

I can’t help the grin that spreads across my face.

“That feels good.”

I press my thumbs into the ball of her foot and she moans.

I rub circles around her ankle and she sighs again.

“Hmm. You’re really good at this. It’s almost like you’ve had practice.”

“I asked your trainer to give me a few pointers,” I admit.

Her eyes fly open. “What?”

“Just the basics. I’m not going to be a professional masseuse, but I thought it would be good to know how to make you feel good.”

It’s the only way I can give Lettie any pleasure without getting myself in trouble, but unfortunately for me, even rubbing her feet, hearing her sighs of relaxation, is a huge turn on.

“Is this because Sebastian was giving me a massage the other day?” she asks.

No. And yes.

“I’m your boyfriend. I’m the one who should take care of you. Give you what you need.”

“I’m not arguing.” She sighs into my touch, her eyes closing again. “And you’re my fake boyfriend.”

“Sure.”

As I continue to massage her feet, switching from the left to the right, Lettie’s hands stop their progress on the tutu she’s working on. Her breathing evens out and eventually she’s asleep. I stare at her for a while. Perfect, pink lips parted slightly. Wild, messy bun pressed into the pillow. She’s so fucking pretty, it hurts.

The fact that she easily fell asleep on the couch before nine o’clock is indicative of how hard she’s been working. If this is how intense she is during off-season, how does she manage all of this when there are rehearsals and performances?

I scoop her up in my arms. I knew she’d be easy to carry, but I didn’t know how good she would feel in my arms. Once I lay her on the bed, I settle her in and pull up the covers.

A deep sigh leaves her lips before she shifts onto her side, curling into the pillow and nuzzling her hands under her chin.

When I reach to turn off the lamp, the book on her nightstand catches my eye.

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