Page 19 of Faking It with My Bossy Ex

I don’t think so.

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I step out of the bathroom and stop dead.

There's Amy, queen of the bed apparently, lounging against a pillow with a book in her lap like this is totally normal. The fireplace she somehow got going bathes her face in this soft glow, and any other time I might appreciate how pretty she looks.

But right now I'm too busy staring at what can only be described as The Great Wall of Pillows—a defensive wall of every spare blanket and cushion, lined up beside her like she's preparing for a pillow apocalypse.

“There you are.” She looks up, an innocent expression on her face.

“What’s all this?” I ask, motioning to the bedding mound, taking up a third of the bed.

“Oh, that’s called a boundary.” She stands up and grabs her things. “A useful little thing to keep flirty invaders on their own side of the bed.”

“I don’t mind flirty invaders.” I beam.

“I wasn’t talking about you.” She fidgets.

“I can sleep on the floor if it makes you more comfortable.” I tap the hardwood floor with my foot. “Though you should know, my doctor told me I have a bad back, so I’m guessing it would be painful.”

“We both know you’re not a floor type of person. Besides, you paid for the room. We’re both adults; we can share the bed, but the wall stays.” She’s determined to keep the wall, and who am I to protest?

“Fine!” I lift my hands in resignation. “That’s great by me. The wall is a great idea.” I go to my side of the bed and flop down. “What happens if one of us accidentally rolls into it and a couple of pillows fall? Is it a punishable offense?”

“You don’t want to find out,” she says as she disappears into the bathroom, rolling her eyes. The wall is ridiculous. But sharing a bed with Amy? Now that's an idea I can get behind. Maybe I can negotiate a pillow treaty later.

When she comes out of the shower, she’s wearing a long-sleeved shirt with little red Christmas ornaments sprinkled across it and blue sweatpants. Her hair hangs in soft curls down her back. She flips off the lights and climbs into her side of the bed.

The only light in the room is the soft glow from the fireplace.

“Remember that Christmas when our families rented a vacation house together?” I ask, hoping for an answer from the other side of the wall. She must have fallen asleep because there’s only silence.

Then a reluctant little, “Yes. Then we got snowed in and it was a disaster.” She laughs, a sound that sends a jolt of nostalgia through me. I didn’t realize just how much I missed her laugh.

“Everyone else might have been at each other’s throats, but we were up in the attic with that old chessboard, feeling like our own little world couldn't be touched.”

I’d trade anything to relive those days. To have one more minute just staring into her eyes, back when she used to look at me like I hung the moon. Back before I broke us both.

She deserves better. I tore us apart, and now I’m regretting it, but that doesn’t mean that she’s regretting it.

“In a way, it was the best Christmas ever.” The way she says it makes my heart skip a beat. She’s so right. I don’t think I’ve had a Christmas half as memorable as the ones that I spent with her.

“Maybe this Christmas could be even better,” I say, the words barely more than a whisper. It's a long shot, but seeing her here, feeling her this close, these eight years without her suddenly felt like nothing but empty space.

She’s the part of the past I can’t let go of. Can I pull myself back into her orbit?

“That would be a hard one to beat.” Her voice is thoughtful and sleepy. A few minutes later, her breaths grow long and deep, and I know she’s asleep.

Unfortunately, sleep doesn’t come as easily to me. Not when I can’t get the girl on the other side of these pillows out of my mind.

Chapter 9

Amy

The first thing I realize is the fact I’m not alone in bed. I check my pillow barrier. Thank goodness it’s still there. Sitting up, my eyes catch on the white outside the window.

Perfect, unblemished snow covers everything. It must have snowed all night. Thankfully, there’s now a clear sky. Is Dylan up? There’s no noise coming from his side of the bed.

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