Page 104 of A Perfect Fit

“Okay. As long as you’re comfortable.” He adds as an afterthought, “And you promise not to kick me off the bed in the middle of the night.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I say. “Go take your shower.”

He stands, flashing me a dimpled smile. “Don’t do anything naughty while I’m gone.”

Jesus.

Once Jackson leaves the room, I settle in the bed and sit up against the headboard with the comforter over me. While he’s taking a shower, I make another marketing post on social media for my fashion show and reply to a few business emails.

At the sound of footsteps, I glance up from my phone, watching as Jackson steps inside, wearing the T-shirt and pajama pants he borrowed from Dad. His brown hair is still a little wet and curly from his shower, and there’s a tiny lock falling over his forehead⁠—

“No amount of cold water’s going to help with that blush, Isabelle.”

Jackson leans against the doorframe with a smirk on his face. He needs to stop standing like that, or I might be tempted to do something dangerous.

“I wasn’t blushing,” I say, though we both know that’s a big, fat lie.

“Yeah, I know,” he drawls. “The weather’s just hot. That line’s getting old, by the way.”

“So is you making fun of me every time that happens. Like, get a new hobby.”

Jackson shakes his head. He’s still leaning against the wall. “Can’t, sorry. You take up too much space in my head already.” He sighs as though I’ve inconvenienced him. “It’s getting out of hand these days. I really should start charging you a fee.”

“You are so dramatic,” I mutter, but internally, his words are making me all gooey. “How does Anna put up with having you as her uncle again?”

“My niece loves me very much. As does everyone else.”

“Humility goes a long way,” I jokingly say. “Look it up in the dictionary sometime.”

“I’ll add it to my to-do list.”

Without awaiting a reply, Jackson turns off the light switch and joins me in the bed. We both lie down at the same time.

“Good night then?” I ask.

“Good night, Bella,” he gently says.

The clashing sounds of pouring rain pounding against the windows echo in the room, coupled with the sound of my loudly beating heart.

I snuggle under the comforter, replaying everything that happened at dinner once again and not daring to sneak a glance at Jackson.

Soon after, my body gives in to sleep.

It’s finally the long-awaited night of my fashion show. I’m backstage and cued to walk out in one minute to open the event. All my hard work has led to this moment, and it feels so surreal, like a dream come true.

I take a deep breath and put on a smile, preparing to greet my audience with the welcome speech I’ve rehearsed a million times in my head.

Except the smile disappears from my face as soon as I step out into the open.

No one is here.

The entire place is empty, and every seat is vacant.

My stomach drops as I scan the venue again to make sure my eyes aren’t deceiving me. But the sight in front of me is as clear as day.

“I don’t get it,” I say to myself, blinking. “No one showed up?”

“Did you actually think anyone would show up?”