Page 128 of Boyfriend of the Hour
“You don’t—” Nathan started to murmur before I cut him off with another pasted-on smile for Carrick.
“Of course,” I said. “I just need to make up the bed and put my clothes away. Nathan’s closet is too small for all of mine. You understand.”
Carrick held up his glass as if to cheer my words. “Take your time, sweetheart. I got all night.”
I nodded and left the room, only barely hearing Nathan mutter something about needing to help me before he followed me into my room and shut the door.
“We don’t have to do this,” Nathan said as I immediately started hanging the dresses I’d been trying on back into the closet. “I can come up with something else. Tell him I’m ill or something. Or just that I don’t want him here, which is actually true.”
“And give him another reason to think this is all fake?” I started stripping the bed. “You’re a shit liar, by the way.”
Nathan smirked. “And you’re any better?”
I chuckled as I tossed my used sheets onto the floor and grabbed the spare set from the closet. While I didn’t love this situation, I did enjoy the fact that Carrick would have to spend the night in my tiny twin bed wrapped in Strawberry Shortcake bedding that was bought circa 1988 and had made its way throughfiveZola girls. Nosy bastard deserved it.
“Look, it’s a bed, not a pit of lava,” I said. “We can share it for a week, don’t you think?”
Nathan did not appear to share my optimism.
“I don’t bite,” I tried again. “And you could fit a family of five on your mattress. You won’t even know I’m there.” I stopped, arms full of my duvet. “Unless you want to call this off. Which, I wouldn’t blame you. Lying to your family isn’t easy.”
That seemed to shake him out of it.
“If they find out you’re not really my girlfriend, I’ll never hear the end of it. Among other things.” Nathan grabbed a pillow and started tearing off the case. “You can sleep in my bed until he leaves. With luck, it’ll only be for the night.”
TWENTY-THREE
THINGS THAT APPARENTLY TURN ON NATHAN HUNT
#3 me in a tshirt???
“Are you dressed?”
A quiet knock sounded on Nathan’s door, and then it opened. He popped his head in, eyes covered.
“Like a nun,” I called from where I sat on top of his king-size bed, scrolling on my phone and enjoying the view of the Hudson River and the Gutenberg, New Jersey skyline twinkling from the other side. “Come on, get in here. Your brother’s going to think it’s weird that you’re knocking to come in to a bedroom we supposedly share.”
Nathan edged into the room and uncovered his eyes. “What are you wearing?”
I stopped scrolling and looked down at myself with a frown. “Oh, no, did I get toothpaste on me? Lea says I’m a disaster in the bathroom.”
“You’re—well, yes, you are, but it doesn’t bother me—still, that’s my—Jesus.”
I looked back up to where Nathan was standing at the end of the bed, one of his oversized pillows pressed to his front, and his eyes squeezed shut as if he were in pain.
“What?” I asked. “What’s wrong?”
“Joni, that’s my shirt.Justmy shirt.”
I looked back down at the Columbia Medical School shirt I’d found neatly folded in his top drawer. It was enormous. Because Nathan was enormous. And it smelled like him too—like sandalwood and coffee and very clean soap.
In other words, like heaven. I was considering wearing it forever.
“Well, I have underwear on too,” I finally said. “I didn’t think you’d mind if I borrowed something since I cadn’t exactly go back into my bedroom and ask Carrick for some pj’s. It would give the whole game away, don’t you think?”
Nathan just groaned and mumbled something unintelligible to himself. “I—it’s fine. I just didn’t realize…”
I grinned as I looked him over myself. “Aw, you’re so cute in your full pajamas. My nonno used to wear ones like that. But won’t you be kind of hot?”
