Page 50 of Fake it for Keeps

“We are not sharing a bed, Colt.”

“We literally have no choice unless one of us sleeps on the couch or the floor. And since I booked this suite, and I’m paying for everything, I’m taking the bed.” His eyes glinted with challenge. “You’re welcome to join me. Or not. Your call.”

I glared at him, my hands clenched into fists at my sides. This was ridiculous. We were two adults. We could share a bed without it meaning anything.

Or I could just take a couch. It wouldn’t be the first couch I slept on. But somehow, I couldn’t bring myself to back down. It felt like, if I gave him an inch, he would steamroll me.

I had to stand my ground.

It was just a bed. Sleeping. That’s all that would happen. I couldn’t stand the guy.

Except I knew that was a lie. I’d felt the chemistry between us in the hot tub. The awareness. The way my body responded every time he was near.

Sharing a bed was dangerous territory.

But I also knew Colt wasn’t going to budge. He was stubborn and used to getting his way, and short of physically dragging him out of the bed—which wasn’t happening—I was stuck.

“Fine,” I bit out. “But we’re establishing boundaries.”

“Whatever makes you feel better, sugar.”

I grabbed all the decorative pillows from the chair in the corner and began building a wall down the center of the bed. Pillow after pillow, creating a barrier between his side and mine.

“Really?” Colt asked, watching with obvious amusement. “A pillow wall?”

“Really.” I placed the last pillow carefully. “You stay on your side. I stay on mine. No crossing the border.”

“This is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever seen.”

“I don’t care.” I climbed into bed, staying as close to my edge as possible. “These are the terms. Accept them or sleep on the couch.”

He looked at the pillow wall, then at me, then back at the wall. “You’re being a poor sport.”

“I’m being smart.”

“You’re ruining all the fun.” I heard the grumpiness creeping into his voice. “I should have written into the contract that you couldn’t be such a pain in the ass.”

The contract. Right. This was all business. All performance.

And if I kept pushing him away, kept being difficult, he wasn’t going to fall for me. My entire plan—take his money, break his heart, get even—would implode before it even got started.

I needed him to want me. To get invested. To let his guard down.

And I couldn’t do that by building literal walls between us.

Damn it.

I took a deep breath, swallowed my pride, and made a decision.

“You know what?” I said, my voice deliberately softer. “You’re right. I’m being ridiculous.”

I could feel his surprise even though I wasn’t looking at him. “What?”

“The pillow wall is silly.” I started dismantling it, tossing the pillows onto the floor one by one. “We’re adults. We can share a bed without making it weird.”

“That’s surprisingly mature of you.”

“Don’t get used to it.” I finished removing the last pillow, then rolled over to face him. My heart was pounding, but I forced myself to remain cool. “Besides, I’ve never been opposed to being the little spoon.”