Page 33 of Waiting for Acceptance (Nashville Nights #5)

FITZ

I watch as the minutes tick by, completely unbothered that my alarm went off half an hour ago.

Normally I wouldn’t be able to sit still or stop thinking about everything on my morning checklist that I need to be knocking out, but this morning?

This morning I have Lauren’s body wrapped around mine, listening to her breathe as the sun starts filtering in through the floor-to-ceiling window in my bedroom.

I have no idea what’s going to happen with this agreement we made.

How long will she stick around, playing house and pretending to be my girlfriend, all while holding some sort of disdain for me in her heart?

But there’s one thing I am sure of, and that’s that I won’t move until she does.

I continue twirling strands of her short black hair through my fingers until she starts to move.

She wiggles a little bit before her alarm starts going off, almost like her internal clock is already starting to wake her.

She pushes herself up, her hand staying on my chest as she rubs the sleep from her eyes. She freezes a moment later, peeking her eyes open.

“Fitz!” she gasps, turning around to grab her phone from the nightstand.

“You’re late! You were supposed to wake up half an hour ago.

Weren’t you? Or did I do that math wrong?

” She switches between checking her phone and burying her face in her hands, but all I can see is the way the sunrise around her looks like something I wouldn’t mind waking up to every day.

I pull her back over to me, catching the confused look on her face before she’s back under my arm—the same way she fell asleep last night.

“No one should start their day in a panic, Sweetheart. Take a deep breath.” I stop and wait for her to do so. It takes her a minute but she finally does. “Another one.” Again, she obeys.

“Okay, but you were supposed to be up already, right?” she asks, though I’m surprised she hasn’t tried to move again.

“My alarm went off about thirty minutes before yours, yes.” She lifts her head just enough for her eyes to meet mine.

“Then why aren’t you up ?”

I smile down at her and shrug. “I wanted to stay in bed.” I see the corner of her lips barely turn up before my phone goes off and she jumps.

I look down to see my father’s name lighting up the screen and I have the mind to toss it out the window.

Motherfucker just interrupted what I think was about to be one of the first smiles Lauren has ever given me.

I’m gonna bleach his favorite suit for this.

“Sorry, I have to take this.”

“Yeah, of course.” She slides out of bed and I watch her every move until she closes the bathroom door behind her. I close my eyes and my head falls back onto the headboard as I bring my phone to my ear.

“Yes?” I don’t bother hiding the aggravation in my tone and boy does he notice.

“Whatever stick you’ve got up your ass this morning, remove it before you show up to speak at this conference. Are you on your way to the hotel?” I look at the clock to ensure I didn’t somehow spend over an hour looking at Lauren.

“It’s six thirty in the morning. No. I’m not headed to the hotel.”

“Well, don’t be late. It makes us look bad when the host of the event isn’t there when people begin to arrive.” Yes, because an event that doesn’t begin until 9:30, and doors don’t open until fifteen minutes before that, requires me to be there at six thirty in the fucking morning.

“We won’t be late.”

“We?” I pinch the bridge of my nose, fighting the oncoming headache.

“I told you I was bringing someone with me this weekend. My girlfriend. Remember? The one you don’t think exists.

” Lauren walks through the room, just as I’m reminding my father of this detail he managed to forget, pursing her lips and giving a little eye roll.

I can’t wait to see how she handles him.

All that fierce, strong attitude handling the awful Weston Fitzgerald.

I raise a brow at her, making her eyes widen because she knows she’s been caught.

I can’t help but smile when she holds a hand up to cover her eyes.

“Got it?” My dad’s voice interrupts my moment with Lauren—again—and the smile falls from my face immediately.

“Sure. See you later.” I hang up the phone with no idea what it is he thinks I got , and I genuinely don’t care. I roll out of bed and join Lauren in the bathroom, seeing her with a fluffy headband that has a bow on top.

“Shut up. It’s so I don’t get product in my hair.” She holds a finger up at me then continues rubbing something foamy all over her face.

“I wasn’t going to say anything. But I do have to pee, so…” She looks over at the toilet then back at me, but not before her eyes fall to my cock that is, in fact, hard as fuck. I smirk when I see her throat work with a swallow.

“Yeah, sorry. Give me two seconds.” She shakes her head and turns back to the sink, rinsing the suds from her face before reaching for the hand towel to pat it dry.

She leaves the bathroom, but about five seconds into me peeing I hear her voice so clearly I could have sworn it was coming from right beside me.

“So, to reiterate, I just hang with you today? Sit front row, smile, clap, goo-goo eye my ass off. Anything else I need to be prepared for?” I shake my head and laugh at the fact that this woman is having a full-blown conversation with me while I’m pissing.

“Um. No, not really. Nothing I can think of anyway.”

“Nothing else your past girlfriends have done you can think of?” I flush the toilet and wash my hands while I think about how to answer that.

“Nope.” She gasps when I suddenly appear behind her.

“Come on, Fitz. Give me something. You’re acting like you’ve never had a girlfriend before.” She laughs.

I tap the tip of her nose with my index finger and wink. “Such a perceptive girl.” I move past her, heading to my closet to grab my clothes for the day, but I don’t miss the way she posts up against the door frame, glaring at me with her arms crossed and her fuzzy headband still firmly in place.

“I don’t buy it. You’ve never had a girlfriend?

” I look over at her, doing my best to portray how much I don’t want to have this conversation and her hands shoot up.

“Fine. I’ll drop it.” Ten minutes later she comes out of the bathroom with her make up done and her hair still wavy but…

tamed. She stops at her suitcase and looks at me, not saying anything as she takes in my tan slacks, blue dress shirt, and brown shoes.

“I thought I was supposed to be checking your outfits,” I tease as she carefully thumbs through her clothes.

“I have to make sure we coordinate.” My brows pull together as I finish buttoning my shirt.

“Like, matching?”

“ No . Like coordinating. I can’t wear colors that clash with yours.

Couples should complement each other. We should look like we…

I don’t know. Belong together.” She pulls out a dress that’s almost an exact match in color to my shoes and belt, as well as a blazer and pair of heels that match the color of my shirt.

“This should work.” I grab one of the shoes from her hands and hold it up to my chest.

“These shoes are almost the exact same color as this shirt. How the hell is that even possible?” She snatches the shoe back from me.

“Do. Not. Touch. My blue. Suede. Shoes.” She heads for the bathroom. “Elvis would roll over in his grave. The audacity,” she mumbles under her breath.

Pops is gonna love her.

“Ready,” she announces as she emerges from the bathroom and I check the time. 7:15 AM. She might be the only woman I have ever met who can get ready in under an hour. “But I am starving. Please tell me breakfast is next on the list?”

“Anything you want, Sweetheart.”