Page 33 of Silver Fake

Lisa murmurs a sleepy goodnight, and I echo it back to her. Soon, we both drift off to sleep, sharing the comfortable silence of the night.

CHAPTER11

Lisa

I wakeup to find myself snuggled underneath John's arm.

John is still fast asleep, his chest rising and falling as he breathes, his dark hair tousled charmingly across his forehead. His lashes cast long shadows, complementing his strong jawline.

Panic slowly sets in as I realize I just broke the first rule of this stupid fake relationship: not sleeping together in the same bed.

I lay back against the pillow and sigh.

Something has changed between John and me. And to be honest, I'm not sure what to make of it.

Yesterday, it was like John was a different person. He was sweet and flirtatious, kind and attentive. He held my hand, bought me clothes, kissed my hair, and made me laugh.

He made me feel cherished and special.

At first, I went along with it. It's been so long since a man desired me. Too long. After my divorce, I worked hard to fill my life with other positive things. I did the whole 'self-discovery' thing, focused on my career, and traveled as much as I could. But deep down, I still craved that connection with someone else.

When John came back to the hotel room last night, something flipped inside me. My heart was doing so many cartwheels that I just couldn't resist. I insisted that he share this bed with me.

Now, I'm not so sure that was a good idea.

I've always been a hopeless romantic, falling too hard, too fast. I wear my heart on my sleeve, and I can already tell that John's affectionate behavior is getting to me. It's time to reign myself in.

I slip gingerly out of his embrace, trying not to wake him.

As I sit up, I cringe a little at the gross taste in my mouth. Further examination reveals a streak of dried drool on my cheek. And even though I don't have a mirror, I know my hair is a hot mess.

I've never been the type of woman who felt the need to look perfectly made up in the morning. I'm comfortable in my skin and have always been content with my natural appearance.

But, for some reason, I can't shake the self-consciousness creeping over me.

Waking up next to someone, allowing them to see you in your rawest, realist form, is a level of intimacy that I don't think I'm ready for yet.

Especially when that 'someone' is as good-looking as John Barton.

As I walk to the bathroom to brush my teeth, I glance out the window and see the beach. The morning sunlight twinkles across the water, making it look like diamonds are dancing on the waves. It's truly a gorgeous sight. The salty breeze wafts in, and I take a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves.

When I return to the bedroom, John is awake, sitting in bed with a pair of black reading glasses perched on his nose as he scrolls through his phone.

I grab my own phone from the bedside table and slide back under the covers beside him. Then, I prop myself up against the pillows, trying my best to act normal.

"Morning, sunshine," John says with a playful smile.

He pushes his glasses up onto his forehead and turns to face me. Now wide awake, his eyes sparkle with mischief as they meet mine. "You know, you're very snuggly when you sleep.”

Instantly, I feel my cheeks burn.

"What can I say?" I reply without looking up. "I like snuggling with soft things. If you want me to stay away, you should try working on your six-pack."

John's laughter fills the room.

"Not a chance." He brushes my cheek with his thumb. "I liked cuddling with you.”

I liked it, too.