Page 39 of Beachside Kisses With My Best Friend

“I mean it, Lee.”

“I know.” I soften my tone. “And I appreciate it. Really, I do. I feel close to making a decision, though.” I think. Maybe. Argh. “At the very least, Marla deserves some sort of answer soon.”

“Don’t rush your decision simply for her sake.”

“Sure.” I clear my throat. “Anyway, back on topic…”

“Right. Okay, so what else do we need to discuss?”

Whew. I shake out my suddenly sweaty hands. “What I was going to say is…we need to address the fact that Constance and Larry have a little spy living under our roof.”

“Oh. That.”

“Yeah. That.” The whole reason for Constance’s line of questioning the other night came because Ryder had reported our sleeping arrangements to his grandparents—of course not realizing that he was making our position more precarious. “I’ve been thinking… Dangerous, I know.”

“Whatever, Brainiac.”

I smile at the very misplaced compliment. Then sober at what I’m about to suggest. “Um, but yeah. I think-maybe-we-need-to-share-a-room.”

He turns his entire upper body toward me. “What? We’ve talked about this. No.”

“I knew you’d say that, but the whole reason you’re saying no is because you don’t want me to be uncomfortable, right?”

“Well…”

Seagulls caw in the distance.

“And I can assure you, sharing a room wouldn’t be uncomfortable for me. In fact, I’d feel better knowing you weren’t sleeping on that couch every night. I’ve seen you rub your lower back when you think I’m not looking.”

“Nothing I can’t handle. Really, Lee, it’s fine.”

“But it’s not.” I throw my hands in the air. “Ryder will continue to tell his grandparents we aren’t sharing a room, and then this whole marriage is pointless!”

He winces, and I instantly regret my wording choice. It sounds brutal, but it’s kind of true, right?

Before I can say more, he shakes his head. “I get it, but I can’t in good faith…” Jordan presses his lips together. “I mean, that room isn’t big enough for me to sleep on the ground, Lee.” He hooks my gaze into his, and I feel the weight of his unspoken words.

We wouldn’t just be sharing a room.

We’d be sharing a bed.

And if he really does care about me as more than a friend, then that might make things harder for him. Honestly, for me too. I haven’t shared a bed with any man but Donny. Ever. And toward the end, he wasn’t even in it half the time. I’d lie awake, just waiting…

So yeah. Sharing a bed with a guy holds some traumatic memories for me. But this would be different. Totally different. It wouldn’t be a marriage bed… Not in the traditional sense.

I’m not sure what you’d call it—a best-friends-who-are-pretending-to-be-together-and-are-married-but-not-really bed?—but we’re just going to have to figure it out for Ryder’s sake.

“We can both be adults about this. I’ve known you half of our lives. I trust you, Jordan.”

And I mean every word.

I feel like the sun sinks a whole mile before Jordan speaks again. “Fine.”

“What’s that?” I lean in, afraid I’ve misheard him. My glasses slide down my nose at the movement.

He pushes them back up for me, gives me a soft smile. “We can share a room.” A pause. “But only if you’re sure.”

“I am.”

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