Iflip the pages to the last novel Kaz bought me. It’s a hockey romance, second chance, a recommendation from the clerk who helped Kaz at the bookstore. It’s a great story, but I’m struggling to get into it. Since moving into Kaz’s house, this is the first time I’ve been left home alone. After the phone call from Grazie Mille’s interim manager, my fake boyfriend rushed out of here like the roof was on fire.
I got used to my ramen noodle dinners at my shitty basement apartment, sitting at a tiny table on a cheap laminate chair that I picked up in the garbage area on the day I moved in that would inevitably leave my ass numb, but since changing zip codes, I became spoiled. Until I was forced to eat alone earlier tonight, I didn’t realize how much sharing a meal with Kaz meant to me.
I sigh and close the book and drop it in my lap. I grab my phone from the bed and check the time.
Eleven.
He’s still not home.
I’m tempted to text Kaz to find out when he’ll be here, but I don’t want to be another burden he has to deal with.
My eyes shift to the empty side of the bed before traveling to the armchair.
After what we shared this afternoon, where is he going to sleep?
I’d love nothing more than to fall asleep with my head against his muscular chest, but fake girlfriends can’t make demands.
My gaze lowers to my phone.
Go to bed, Harley.
If I don’t get enough sleep, I’ll be tired on the first day of my new job.
I drop my book and phone on the nightstand and turn off the lights.
I slide into bed and pull the sheet over me.
This spectacular, expensive house in an upscale neighborhood is a dream, but without Kaz here, it’s like I’ve lost my anchor.
Being home alone sucks.
My eyes pop open.
For a second, I’m certain I was having a nightmare, but I’m still tucked under the sheets and not thrashing all over the place or sweating. I check the time on the clock.
One a.m.
He still isn’t home?
I sit up in bed and squint into the night.
Disappointment washes over me.
Kaz is sleeping in the armchair.
I guess what happened earlier between us hasn’t changed a thing. I’m still his fake girlfriend––the female companion who’s helping him change his image, not the woman he slides in bed with at the end of the day.
Chapter 36
Reset button
Harley
Iget out of the taxi, balancing the cardboard box I’m holding and practically prance as I waltz up the street. I stop and my eyes lift to the top floor with the huge black paned windows.
This is the reset button I needed.
I continue trailing the length of the building until I reach the staff’s entrance to the Lindström Corp’s office.
