Single And In Love With My Fake Boyfriend (Single Girls Club #1)

Chapter Twenty-Six

Callie

My eyes slowly open and I soak in the darkness around me. It takes a second for my eyes to adjust and when they do, they widen. I have no idea where I am.

Then it all comes crashing down on me. The restaurant. The rain. The flooding. Going to Lincoln’s house.

That’s where I am. In his house. On his couch.

Did I fall asleep?

Something is wrapped around me, holding me in place. It’s Lincoln’s arms. It’s as if he’s worried someone or something will hurt me and all he wants to do is protect me.

He fell asleep here, too?

I take in the blanket that’s covering me. Lincoln’s blanket is scrunched around his waist.

He covered me?

I’m frozen in place, not sure what to do. Should I move? That might wake him. I have no idea what time it is, but it’s clearly in the middle of the night. How long have we been asleep?

It feels really good to be in his arms, even though it’s also a bit embarrassing that we fell asleep together. Or did he purposely hold me?

I think back to what he said earlier, about my being beautiful and special to him. What did he mean by that? Why would he call me special when he just sees me as a friend?

Ugh. It’s too late and too dark and I’m too groggy to make sense of any of this. I kind of need to use the bathroom, but I also don’t want to wake him.

He suddenly moves, pushing himself closer to me and pressing his head to mine. His arms tighten around me. For a second, I think he’s awake, but no, he’s sleeping.

He looks so handsome when he sleeps. Even though it’s dark, I can see him well. And dang, he’s like a prince. A sexy prince that makes all girls go weak in the knees. I bet if someone were to film him sleeping, he’d get millions of views.

I figure I’ll try to go back to sleep. It sure beats sitting here waiting for him to wake up. I have an urge to turn to my side, but that would wake him. Instead, I turn my head to the side, facing him. Our heads are so close, mouths only inches away. I think back to our kiss a week ago, and our almost-kiss during the cushion fight.

What does it all mean?

We’re two people who come from different worlds. We’re not supposed to be kissing or almost kissing, unless it’s for the public.

It’s best I don’t think about kisses or almost-kisses because that would probably also make me fall in love with him.

As I continue to watch him sleep, I have this urge to push some hair away from his forehead. But of course I keep my hands to myself.

Shutting my eyes, I try to go back to sleep. But they open a short while later because I have too much on my mind. Like the hottie holding me securely in his arms.

A soft gasp leaves my mouth when I find Lincoln’s sharp gaze on mine. He’s wide awake now, eyes boring into mine. Then they settle around the area as he, too, tries to figure out where he is and what happened.

When his eyes meet mine again, I give him a sheepish smile. This really is mortifying. Falling asleep and waking up in each other’s arms is not how I expected tonight to turn out.

“Hey,” I say with an awkward laugh. “I think we fell asleep.”

His gaze shifts to where his arms are locked around me and his eyebrows furrow. I can’t read his mind, but I’d guess he’s trying to figure out how we ended up cuddling like this.

He slowly retracts his arms, plowing his hand through his hair. “I don’t know how that happened. Must have done it in my sleep.”

“It’s okay. I mean, it happens, right?”

He nods. “If I made you uncomfortable…”

“I’ve been told I’m as soft as a pillow, so I don’t really blame you.” As soon as the words leave my mouth, I want to slap myself. What the heck did I just say?

He searches my eyes, seeming to be deep in thought, and then a chuckle rumbles through him, deep from his stomach.

I laugh, too, because it is kind of funny. Heck, this whole situation is funny. From being caught in the rain, to my having to spend the night here, to watching a lame TV show that put us both to sleep…quite an adventure, I should say.

“What time is it?” I ask him, searching for my phone. I think it’s hidden under the snacks.

Lincoln finds his phone and checks the time. “Just after three.”

“Dang.”

“We should go to bed,” he says. “I mean, to our rooms. To sleep in comfortable beds.”

I run my hand along the blanket that’s still wrapped around me. “Thanks for this.”

He dips his head. “Of course.”

“Um, why didn’t you go to your room after I fell asleep?”

“I didn’t want to leave you here alone. I thought maybe you’d wake up and not know where you were.”

I’m touched by how sweet he is. He doesn’t have to do any of these things for me. No one is watching or taking pictures. He’s doing more than what’s required of a fake boyfriend.

“Thanks,” I say. “I totally woke up confused. Thanks for, you know, taking care of me.”

He reaches to lock his fingers with mine. “You don’t have to thank me all the time, Callie,” he says softly. “I care about you and want what’s best for you.”

I swallow my heart that just shot to my throat. “I care about you, too. I actually made sure not to wake you. You looked so comfortable when you slept. Not that I watched you or anything. I just…” I let the words trail off because I have no idea what I’m saying.

He chuckles gently. “Thanks, but you should have woken me up. It couldn’t have been comfortable being trapped like that.”

“Trapped? I wasn’t trapped. Not at all. I felt safe and warm.” Perfect, actually. “But I do have to use the bathroom.”

I leap down the hall, into the bathroom, and shut the door. Before I do what I need to do, I stare at myself in the mirror. I look like I just rolled out of bed. My hair’s up on all sides, and the neck of my shirt hangs down one shoulder, exposing my flesh.

So not flattering, but does it really matter in front of my fake boyfriend?

Yes, yes it does.

Sighing, I do my business and splash some water onto my face, then try to tame my hair. After a few attempts, I give up and return to the living room. Lincoln is on his feet, cleaning up the mess of snacks on the table.

“I’ll help,” I offer.

We gather the snacks and return them to the kitchen. He checks the weather, letting me know they predict that the rain won’t stop for a few more hours.

“Good,” I say.

He lifts a brow. “Good?”

“Not the flooding. I just love listening to the rain. It always calmed me when I was younger.”

He smiles. “I love listening and watching the rain, too.”

I return the smile and we just look at each other.

Until Lincoln shifts on his feet. “We should probably get to bed. To our rooms.”

“Right, yeah. Of course.”

He leads me out of the kitchen and down the hall, where our bedrooms are. Side by side. So close.

“I hope you have everything you need,” he tells me once I step into my room.

There’s a bed, a dresser, a night table, but not much else.

“I’m good. Thanks.”

He steps closer to me, draping his arms around me. “Have a good night, Callie,” he whispers in my ear, his breath so warm it sends tingles down my spine. “Sweet dreams.”

“You…you, too.”

His lips sweep across my cheek before he backs away, gives me a smile, and walks out of my room.

I stare after him, wondering if he meant to kiss my cheek, or did it just happen as he pulled away from me?

It’s probably best I don’t analyze each and every one of his moves or actions. I’ll go insane if I keep doing that.

Diving under the covers, I pull them close to my chin and sink into the bed. It’s really comfortable, more than my bed back at my apartment. It kind of feels like I’m lying on a cloud.

What would make this even better? Lincoln’s arms around me.

My eyes widen. What the heck? Again?

Pushing that crazy thought away, I roll onto my side and shut my eyes. The image of him being so close to me, of him sleeping so gently, flashes in my mind. I picture myself inching closer to him, pressing my cheek to his and feeling how warm and stubbly it is. And then I picture his eyes opening, staring into mine, then they lower to my lips and he covers my mouth with his, giving me an oh-so-slow and sexy kiss that makes my toes curl…

There’s a knock on my door. “Callie?”

My eyes fly open. Oh my gosh. Can he read my mind? Did he come here to question me for fantasying about him? Or is he here to…play out that scene in real life?

He knocks again.

“One second!” I shoot to my feet, rushing to the door and opening it.

Lincoln stands out there with the blanket he covered me with a few hours ago. “I thought you might get cold and would want a second blanket.”

My cheeks heat up. So he’s not here to roleplay that scene. Seriously, what was I thinking?

“Um, thanks.” I take it from him. “You’re so thoughtful.”

He scans my face. “Everything okay?”

“Yep. Totally okay.”

His gaze drops to the exposed skin on my shoulder. I follow his gaze. He’s never seen this much of me before, but I can’t understand the expression on his face. Does he like what he sees?

For heaven’s sake, why does it matter?

He focuses on my face now. “If you’re cold, even with the second blanket, I can give you a thicker shirt.”

I squish the blanket to my chest, once again touched by how much he cares about me. “I think I’ll be okay.”

He nods but just stands there. I’m wondering why he doesn’t leave. It’s almost as if he doesn’t want to leave. But why?

Maybe he’s come here to roleplay after all?

I squeeze my eyes shut. Stupid, stupid .

He shoves his hands into his pajama bottoms pockets. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he says.

“Yeah. Have a good night.”

He nods again and heads toward the exit. Before he leaves, he faces me. “If you need anything, you can wake me. It’s fine.”

I wave my hand. “I’m sure that won’t be necessary. Sleep well, Linc.”

He looks like he wants to say something else, but shakes his head and walks out of the room. I kind of want to call after him—the room feels so lonely without him—but I quickly shove that thought away, shut the door, and climb back into bed.

As I lie here, I think about Lincoln in the room next door. I bet he’d hear me if I knocked on the wall. It’d be fun to send messages to each other.

Feeling emboldened, I sit up and ram my knuckles on the wall. Then I hold my breath, waiting and hoping he’ll respond.

When nothing comes, I’m a little disappointed. But then I hear three knocks on my wall.

Smiling, I respond with more knocks. It goes on for a bit before his knocks die down and I figure he fell asleep.

I shift to my side, still smiling. I love how he goes along with whatever crazy, weird idea I have. I love that he’s taken an interest in books and that I can share that part of myself with him. And I love that I’ve taken an interest in things he likes, like football. While I’m not an expert by any means, I’ve learned a lot after watching him practice and by going to his games.

Dread seeps into the pit of my stomach when my brain reminds me that all of this will be over in two weeks. No more Lincoln holding me in his arms, no sweet smiles and kind words, no Lincoln’s lips brushing against my cheek…

I sigh. I’ll have to try not to think about it.