Page 94 of The Guy Who Fake Dated Me

I froze. He’d brushed his teeth, but I hadn’t.

The way his lips met mine told me he didn’t care one bit about my breath.

I did, but instead of that, I focused on his fingers as they traced lines of fire and ice up my back and into my hair. After a moment, he sighed and looked at me. “You are adorable in the morning.”

Messy hair, bad breath, wrinkled clothes…all I could see were my faults.

This wasn’t me. I couldn’t let it be me. I put a hand on his cheek and said, “You’re not so bad yourself.”

Logan laughed and led me to the table. He’d ordered all things breakfast, and we decided that the French toast was the best, with the biscuits and gravy not far behind. It felt natural to be together like this. Even if I wanted to tug the left side of his collar down a bit and fix his tousled hair.

A few minutes into our meal, his phone, which was on his suitcase, buzzed. “Sorry.” He rose to retrieve the device. “That’s probably the rideshare confirming.” After a couple of swipes, he moved toward the small ledge by the door where he’d been keeping his keys and wallet. When he got there, he stopped and looked around.

“What is it?” I asked.

Logan gave me a sheepish look. “Uh, do you remember where I put my wallet last night?”

A familiar tingle spread across my skin as I remembered our first few minutes on the couch, before we’d decided we should watch a show. I frowned and looked at him. “It’s usually in your back pocket, right?”

“Yeah.”

I bit my lip. “Pretty sure it wasn’t there last night.”

Logan looked torn between asking me how I knew it hadn’t been there and where it might be.

“Did you take it to the wedding?” I asked.

“I did.”

“Maybe we dropped it on the way in.” I got up and retraced our steps.

“Or on the couch.” He gave me a smolder, which I returned, then started digging in the cushions.

After a quick search, both of us came up emptyhanded.

“I’m going to need my ID to get on the plane,” he said. “Not to mention money.” His voice held an edge of panic.

If he’d had it at the wedding, and it wasn’t here now, then he must have lost it either during the festivities or enroute to our suite. “I’ll call the front desk. Maybe you dropped it last night.” I went to the hotel’s phone in my room and dialed.

Logan hovered in the doorway. He hadn’t actually come into the bedroom while I was in it. I waved him permission to enter and sat on the bed.

Which, I suddenly realized, had been slept in.

Had he come in here last night and left me on the couch?

He caught my expression and shrugged. “You looked so cute, I didn’t want to wake you.”

Be still my beating heart.

“Front desk,” a man said in my ear.

“Hi, I’m with the wedding party and my—” I glanced at Logan. “My boyfriend lost his wallet last night. We’re hoping someone picked it up and turned it in.”

“Can you describe it?” the man asked.

Oops. I hadn’t thought about that. “Hold on.” I handed Logan the phone. “They need a description.”

Our fingers brushed as he took the phone. “Hey. Yeah. It’s my wallet. Black, bifold, and slim.” He paused. “My ID should be in there. Logan White from Big Bear, Alaska.”

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