Page 46 of Fumbled Into Love

Deon jerks up.

“You have?”

He asks with so much surprise I’m almost offended. I would be if I was working out.

“No. Unless you consider carrying nachos down the stadium steps as a workout.”

“That’s the best kind of workout.” He pauses, glancing at his phone, then the T.V. “We missed our show!” he yells in panic, scrambling off the couch. “This is Ian’s week. He’s going to get the date, I can feel it.”

My brain snags on the word ‘ours.’

He’s been bragging all week about how Ian is the frontrunner to win and how they’re going to fall in love. I haven’t had the heart to tell Deon that most couples break up before the show even airs. He has this blind optimism that it's going to work out, and I don’t want to crush that.

“No, we didn’t.” I pop off the couch and grab the remote. When I return, I sit closer to him than before. I want to inhale the soft, clean scent of him. It’s comforting, like being wrapped in a warm blanket on a chilly night. “I recorded it so we could watch it together.”

It’s become our thing, and it’s far more entertaining when he narrates.

The smile Deon gives me isn’t one I’ve seen before. A soft smile, nothing more than a small lift at the corners. There’s something incredibly intimate about it.

“Turn it on then. This isfinallyIan’s week to shine.”

CHAPTER 11

“I get a shiver when I see you with those other guys”

Jealous (I Ain’t With It) – Chromeo

Deon

“Are you closing your eyes?” Nathalie’s voice floats into the living room, where I’ve been forced to sit on the couch with my eyes closed.

“Yes,” I grumble. “My eyes have been closed for the last five minutes.”

“Stop being all Mr. Grumpy,” she calls out, pulling a smile from my lips, “or else I won’t share the pizza I made.”

That shuts me up.

Her cooking is wonderful, and I won’t jeopardize my access to that. She’s left meals in the fridge, my name scrawled on a sticky note beside a small heart, and thesubtle kindness has been a problem. She’s making it nearly impossible to wrangle my annoying emotions.

Her feet patter against the hardwood floors, followed by an aggressive, borderline evil meow. Gordie is obsessed with Nathalie, following her around wherever she goes and sleeping in the guest room.

At least, that’s where I’m assuming he is since he no longer pounces at my feet all night.

Nathalie’s addictive jasmine perfume fills the air.

“Okay. Open your eyes.”

I crack open one eye, afraid of what she may be holding. I pray she didn’t choose fireman or cop or anything else that could have the word ‘sexy’ in the title.

The first thing I notice is the wings. Small, black wings attached to Gordie’s pudgy frame, bouncing wildly as he bolts around the room chasing an electric mouse.

“Gordie,sit still,” Nathalie chides and his ass plops on the floor. My jaw flies open, staring down at my…dragon cat?

Well, at least it matches his evil personality.

As soon as the thought pops into my mind, Gordie leaps and smacks at my foot, reminding me who runs the house. One more aggressive meow, and he pads over to his food bowl.

“Do you like it?” Nathalie asks, the question hesitant.

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