Page 47 of Their Greatest Strength

Instead, I have a single pull-out couch that counts as my bedroom and a bathroom that most definitely is sprouting mould.

He smooths his hand across the thick sheets and offers me a simple but kind smile. “Don’t change the sheets. But if you have an extra blanket, I wouldn’t mind using that. I might freeze on the ground without one.”

“The ground?”

“Did you think I was going to take your bed from you?”

“I’m offering it to you.”

It must have been the fact it was already made up prior to his arrival that clued him in to it being where I sleep at night. Embarrassing as it may be, there’s clearly no hiding that.

He uses a two-handed grip on the thin mattress to lower himself to the ground. “Too late.”

“You’re going to sleep on the floor in those clothes?”

His laugh is like a gentle stroke of a hand up my back. Warm and reassuring. “I could strip completely, if you prefer?”

At least I’d have a good view before I shut my eyes.

“I’ll get you a blanket,” I mutter before leaving him there.

Keeping my steps as muted as possible, I peek into Nate’s room and sigh at the sight of him splayed out in the bed, the blanket tangled around his legs. He snores softly, relaxed and completely unaware that his favourite football player is about to sleep on his living room floor.

I close the door and snag a blanket from the small linen closet. It’s nowhere near big enough to properly cover a man as big as Jamie, but it’ll have to do for tonight. At least it’s clean.

When I get back to the living room, he’s already lying on the ground with an arm folded behind his head. I step around him and hold out the blanket.

“It’s not too late to get a cab home,” I mutter when he takes the blanket and drapes it over his legs.

“Nah. Already comfortable here.”

I lay my hands in my lap and perch on the edge of the bed. “Alright.”

“Unless you want me to go. If you’re not comfortable with me staying the night?—”

“No. It’s not that. I’m just overthinking,” I admit heavily.

“Overthinking what?”

Frustration bubbles up inside of me. I scoot back onto the bed and angrily kick my feet beneath the covers. Glaring at the bumpy ceiling, I take the risk of opening up a bit to him.

“That you’re lying down there grossed out and judging my home. It’s not much, but it’s what I’ve got.”

He’s silent for a beat. It’s a long enough pause for me to contemplate suffocating myself with my pillow.

“I’m not much for judging, Bandit. I’ve been to my fair share of designer houses all over the world, and very few of them felt like homes more than they did a boring display of wealth.”

I pull the blanket up over my mouth and shut my eyes. “You don’t have to say that to make me feel better.”

“I’m not. Husband’s honour.”

“Like I said before, I don’t even have a ring yet.”

“No, but you do have a purse.”

I’m grateful for the darkness and the blanket that keeps him from seeing the smile that peels my lips apart. It feels like a secret.

“Thank you, by the way.”

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