“It’s okay, I woke up on my own. What were they fighting about?”
He shrugs. “Doesn’t matter.”
“That means it was some variation ofWhy don’t you talk to your sister more?Which is the first step to making Cassie’s breakup my fault for not being a mind reader.”
Garrett toasts me with his own mug. “But you clearly are a mind reader, because that’s bang on.”
I growl under my breath.
He waves it off. “It doesn’t matter, because Jules is here.”
“What?” I scramble off the bed, my coffee sloshing dangerously.
Garrett catches the mug deftly. “It’s chilly downstairs, if you want to put on another layer.”
I glance down at my thin tank top. “Good point.”
He nods to the dresser. “Your matching PJ top is in the top drawer. Right next to my green flannel shirt.”
Ah, crap.
“Busted,” I say lightly.
“So you didn’t bring it to return it?”
“After all these months, I think it’s mine now.” I yank the drawer open and grab it. “In fact, I’m going to wear it now. Possession is nine tenths of the law.”
“So you’re staking a claim.”
“I’m the one who brought it here.”
“I’m just saying.”
I shove my arms into the shirt. It’s warm and cozy and way too big for me. “I don’t understand. Whatareyou saying?”
Garrett hands me my coffee back as I stalk to the door.
But he doesn’t get out of the way.
He tugs at the loose edge of the shirt, then adjusts the collar, his fingers so close to my neck I can feel the heat of his hand even though he doesn’t actually touch my skin.
“Pretty sure you go storming downstairs in my shirt, your cheeks all pink like that, your family is going to think I came up here, kissed you awake, then put my shirt on you, likeI’mthe one staking a claim.” He pauses. “But I guess that’s what we want them to think right now, isn’t it?”
“Um,” I managed to say, which isn’t saying anything at all. “Yes?”
And it comes out like a question.
“We haven’t talked about how this plan plays out.” His gaze searches my face, his eyes carefully guarded.
I swallow hard. “I know.”
“Rory!” my baby sister calls from downstairs. “Where is Mini Minelli?”
“I’m coming,” I yell back. Then I take a big, fortifying sip of coffee. “Thank you for this. It’s perfect. You’re perfect. I’ll figure out a graceful exit plan at some point today.”
He puts his arm across the door, stopping me from ducking around him. “We.”
“What?”
