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“Hi,” she says softly.
“Hi.” I brush a strand of hair from her cheek, relieved when she leans into the touch. “You okay?”
She considers this, her fingers tracing abstract patterns on my chest. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that? You’re the one who values privacy and control, and here we are...”
“Here we are,” I agree, pulling her closer. “Breaking all the rules.”
“We could... not break them.” But there’s no conviction in her voice.
I laugh softly. “Think that ship has sailed, Lace.”
She shifts to look at me properly, and even with bed-mussed hair, she’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. “So what now?”
“We could overthink it,” I suggest, my hand sliding down her back. “Worry about the contract, the press, the band, your career, or…” I exhale slowly as my hand cups her backside. “We could make the best of our… ah… situation.”
Her lips press together, considering. “We’re stuck together for five more months. Might as well enjoy it, right?”
I grin, propping myself up against the headboard. “Are you suggesting a fake engagement with benefits, Ms. Monroe?”
She rolls her eyes but doesn’t deny it. “I’m saying we take it one day at a time. No pressure, no expectations. We don’t have to make promises we can’t keep.”
Something about the way she says it makes my chest tighten. No promises. Just borrowed time. I should be relieved by that.
Instead, I reach over, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “One day andone nightat a time,“ I agree, leaning in to kiss her because I can now, and I feel her smile against my lips.
As we break apart, her gaze flickers down to my mouth for a split second before she pushes the sheet off, sitting up and slipping my discarded t-shirt over her head. “Good. Because we have a day off, and I for one refuse to waste it.”
I watch as she stands, stretching, completely at ease despite the fact that she’s wearing nothing but my t-shirt.
“Got something in mind?” I ask, already knowing the answer is yes. Because she has that look in her eyes—the one that looks like I’m about to be dragged into something I wouldn’t normally do.
“We have the whole day off...” she reminds me.
“We do.”
“So... Let’s do something normal.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Define normal.”
“You know, something regular people would do on their day off. Not rockstars or movie stars. Just... a normal engaged couple.”
I run a hand through my hair, skeptical. “Like what?”
Lacey’s eyes light up with an idea. “A flea market.”
I stare at her. “A flea market?”
“Yes!” She plops back onto the bed enthusiastically. “Bargaining, people watching, weird homemade crafts.” She grins at my immediate grimace. “Come on! It’ll be fun. We can dress down and be incognito. Buy things we don’t need. Eat terrible food.”
“You want to drag me to a flea market to buy junk?”
She sits up, and the t-shirt reveals a dangerous amount of skin—very distracting. “Your house needs personality, Nate. It’s like a museum in here.”
“It’s minimalist,” I protest, but I’m already giving in. I’d probably agree to anything with her looking at me like that.
“It’s sterile.” She leans over to kiss me quickly. “Come on. Loosen up—be impulsive.”
I shake my head. “Lacey, I don’t think I’ve ever stepped foot in a flea market in my life.”