Page 56 of Rockstar's Fake Engagement

“This,” she declares, setting the lava lamp on my otherwise pristine side table, “is exactly what this place needed.”

I give her a look. “It looks like it’s possessed.”

She gasps, “How dare you.”

I shake my head, grabbing a bottle of water. “You’re lucky I agreed to this day in the first place.”

She grins, not believing the lie. “You loved it.”

I exhale, shaking my head with a smile. “Maybe.”

I wrap my arms around her from behind, resting my chin on her shoulder to survey our haul. “But my minimalist soul is protesting.”

She turns in my arms, looping hers around my neck. “Your minimalist soul needs to live a little.” Her eyes sparkle with mischief. “Besides, now, when you look at these things, you’ll think of today.”

“I don’t need tacky decorations to think of today and you,” I murmur, pulling her closer.

“No?” Her fingers play with the hair at the nape of my neck. “What do you need?”

Instead of answering, I kiss her, slow and deep, tasting powdered sugar, sunshine, and something uniquely Lacey.

The antique chess set ends up on the coffee table, the vintage posters waiting to be framed. Lacey flits around the house, finding homes for all the colorful treasures we brought home, while I watch from the couch, amazed at how she’s transforming my space with such small changes.

“Oh!” She disappears into the kitchen and returns with a brown paper bag. “We almost forgot the best part.”

She pulls out two hand-painted coffee mugs we’d found at one of the last stalls. Mine is deep blue with a drum kit silhouette; hers is a soft pink with music notes on one side and a company princess on the other. They’re far from the sleek, matching sets in my cabinets, but something about their imperfect charm fits perfectly with this new reality we’re creating.

“For our morning coffee,” she says, setting them on the counter. “Since I seem to be spending my nights and weekends here in Jacksonville rather than my temporary apartment in Beverly Hills.”

The casual way she says it, like it’s already decided, makes my chest tighten with something that feels dangerously close to hope. “Is that so?”

She turns to face me, biting her lip. “Unless... I mean, we didn’t really discuss—“

I’m off the couch and kissing her before she can finish that thought. She makes a surprised sound that turns into a soft moan as she winds her arms around my neck. Her body arches into mine, and the feel of her pressed against me sends heat coursing through my veins. My hands find her waist, thumbs stroking the bare skin where her shirt has ridden up again.

“Stay,” I murmur against her lips. “Tonight, tomorrow night, any night you want to.”

“Careful,” she teases, though her voice is breathless. “That sounds suspiciously like a promise.”

“One day and night at a time, remember?” I trail kisses down her neck, feeling her pulse jump under my lips. “And tonight, I want you here.”

Her fingers tangle in my hair as she tilts her head to give me better access. “And tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow, we’ll wake up and drink coffee from our ridiculous mugs.” I nip at her collarbone, drawing a gasp from her. “And maybe I’ll let you drag me to another normal-people activity.”

She laughs, the sound turning into a moan as my hands slide under her shirt. “Like mini golf?”

“Don’t push it.” I capture her lips again, walking her backward until she hits the counter. “Right now, I have other activities in mind.”

“Better than mini golf?” Her eyes dance with mischief as I lift her onto the counter.

The new height puts us perfectly aligned, and when she hooks her legs around my waist, drawing me closer, I have to stifle a groan. Her fingers grasp my hair as I trail kisses down her neck.

“Much better.”

As I lose myself in her arms, surrounded by lava lamps, vintage posters, and all these little pieces of normal she’s brought into my life, I realize something. Maybe this isn’t just making the best of a situation anymore. Maybe it’s becoming something more.

But that’s a thought for another day. Right now, there’s just Lacey and me and this perfect moment we’ve carved out for ourselves.

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