Page 101 of From Best Friend to Bride
“Whoever marries you for real is going to be one lucky woman.”
The thought of someone else getting to see sides of Fred that only I knew made my stomach twist. The idea that someone else would share this bed, smell this pillow, see his awkward, blushing face…
I wanted to scream.
Something pricked the back of my eyes, and I squeezed them shut. I didn’t know what to do now. My only option was to sleep in separate beds, but that wouldn’t fix everything.
Not now I knew the truth.
Not now that my curiosity had spiked.
Not now I had this weird little pulse of possessiveness towards him.
There was a side of Fred I didn’t know. One I’d never, ever witnessed. A side that was wild and unrestrained, that was a little dark and dangerous. I’d seen a mere glimpse of it in his eyes this morning, and I wanted to see it again.
I curled further into the pillow.
What was wrong with me? Why was this happening now? Surely this hadn’t been what Granny had expected when she told us everything would change, was it?
Actually, scratch that.
This was exactly what that batty old woman meant.
I pulled my head out of the covers and pulled my face out of Fred’s pillow without relinquishing my hold on it.
Okay, well, fine. If this is how things were going to go, if this was how my body was going to betray me, then I was simply going to have to put on my big girl knickers—the lacy ones with the bow—and get on with it.
I couldn’t suddenly make myself not attracted to Fred, nor could I do the same thing for him. All I could do was make this easier for us both, and despite what he’d said about his feelings not being my responsibility, the fact remained that my feelings were mine.
And I did not trust those hussies enough to lie in the same bed with Fred.
After all, between the two of us, I was the impulsive one. I was the hot-headed, speak-before-I-think one. He was the controlled, restrained, filtered half of this equation.
I jumped into the fire while he was still measuring the temperature of the flames.
Which was exactly why I had no choice but to sleep in my room tonight. For the next few nights. Maybe forever.
I trusted Fred. I trusted him with my life and everything that entailed. I knew with one hundred percent certainty that when he said he wasn’t going to touch me, he meant it.
I did not trust myself.
I didn’t trust that I wouldn’t give in to the intrusive thoughts. That I wouldn’t subconsciously grope him in my sleep. That I wouldn’t roll over and pin him beneath me to make him break his promise.
And I didn’t want to do that to him.
With a sigh, I sat up, staring at our pillows. I’d become accustomed to this one, so I’d be taking it with me. I didn’t have to work until four, so I guessed my new plan for the day was moving as many of my belongings as I could into the other room.
I dragged myself off the bed and opened the door between our bedrooms. This really was a nifty little addition, and would no doubt save our asses when it came down to pretending we were sleeping together.
The truth was, I’d gotten too used to sleeping by his side.
And that was where the real danger laid.
Not in the moments where he was too close, where our eye contact was a little too long, or where his touch was too intimate.
No.
The real danger was in those quiet moments where nothing else existed. Where we weren’t speaking, where we weren’t touching. Where we were justbeing.
