Page 44 of Picture Perfect

“Don’t worry about it.” She sighs and finishes the third glass. “Any chance I can crash here tonight?”

“I’d be insulted if that wasn’t already assumed.”

“We, um, I’d like to sleep in your bed. With you.”

I frown involuntarily. “Why wouldn’t you?”

“I just…we’re friends, but sleeping together in bed seems more intimate somehow. Won’t we be crossing some sort of line?”

I shrug. “Well, I don’t care if it is. We make our own rules, right?”

She smiles a little more. “Yeah.”

Standing, I hold out my hand for hers, and she gives it. I lead her to my bedroom upstairs. Once there, we undress at opposite sides of the bed, like we did this all the time. But there’s a tension between us now. I’d seen her naked just a few times now, and while I am eager for it, she isn’t in that kind of headspace.

Yet.

We slip under the covers, and I spoon her, luxuriating in the silken warmth of her body. Rubbing her hip does not relax her. In fact, if anything, her muscles tense up. So I drape my arm over her waist instead. More tension. “Autumn?”

“Yeah?”

“What is it?”

“I just…this whole thing…can you lay back so I can move?”

I do exactly that. “Go on.”

She lies on her back beneath the covers, looking like a fantasy I’d had, but stress is still etched on her gorgeous face. “It’s stupid—

“I’m sure it’s not. This is you we’re talking about.”

She blows out a long breath at the ceiling. “After I found them, I kept thinking that if I were the bride, I would have wanted to know.”

“Naturally.”

Autumn silently looks at me.

Her silence is weighty, and it clicks. “Oh. Mark.”

She nods. “I kept thinking I would want to know, because if someone had told me before we got married that he would cheat on me, then I could have avoided marrying him in the first place.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t know and couldn’t warn you—

“This isn’t about you, Rowan.”

“You’re right. I didn’t mean it that way.”

She huffs again. “I know. I’m just a mess in my head right now. This whole thing brought up a lot of stuff for me. Makes me wonder…”

“Wonder what?”

“If I say it, you’re going to think it’s about you, and it’s not. It’s my issue, not yours.”

“Look, I didn’t mean to make the other stuff about me, Autumn. I swear. It’s just that I like to fix things, and when there’s even a whiff of responsibility near me, I grab it. That’s my problem. Not yours. I’m sorry about before.”

But she smiles sadly. “I’m glad you like to be responsible for things. But not everything is yours.”

I nod. “So, tell me.”

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