“I don’t do morning sex, Wolinski.”
“You’re missing out.”
“Nope.” She rubs my neck with her nose. “Mornings are for eating, hydrating, and showering.”
I decide to cut her some slack. She’s right here, in my arms, letting me embrace her—and that’s good enough for me. I was nervous about how this morning would go down, and it turns out things are better than I expected.
I stroke her hip while she traces circles on my biceps, and before long we’ve both fallen back asleep. The second time we wake up together is even lower key—and the third, two days later, is just like the first.
The days slip by without us ever discussing what’s happening, but I’m definitely not complaining. Every morning, I’m there when she finishes her last class. Every evening, she’s waiting outside the gym when I’m done with practice. She eats on my bed; I study in her room. Time segues by, and it’s crazy how we don’t even need to find the words—we’re together, and it feels even better than I’d pictured, back when I started this whole Project Girlfriend thing. I feel like myself when I’m with her. I feel like it’s the best thing that ever happened to me.
27CARRIE
I should be putting the finishing touches on my marketing plan, but when Donovan suggested I do a few rides with him this afternoon, I was too curious to say no.
I’m snuggled in the passenger seat with a book balanced in my lap, as a Wolinski classic blares in the background. The whole scene is surreal, but I’ve been learning to still my inner critic recently.
We’ve made two trips, and as we set off to pick up a third, I have to admit that this side hustle is kinda cool.
“How can you even read while we’re driving? You’re making me feel carsick, just looking at you.”
“Stop looking at me, then. This is the third time you’ve distracted me—if it happens again, I’m putting my dirty sneakers on your nice shiny dashboard.”
“Don’t even think about it,” he warns. “Anyone ever tell you you’re a shit shotgun?”
“Not true!” I protest. “I haven’t even hit you once since this morning.”
“You stamped on my foot when you got in. And you did it on purpose,” he adds.
“But who could resist this smile?”
I lift my book away from my face and flash him a grin. As the light turns red, he leans over and gives me a quick kiss. It catches me off guard, but what surprises me even more is how I lean in and kiss him back, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. It feels good. And that’s all that matters.
My tongue teases his as his hand slides down my neck, until somebody honks at us and he hits the gas, laughing. I flip my book back open, resigning myself to starting the chapter all over again.
He swipes at his screen and pulls over for his next passenger. A few seconds later, the door swings open. A girl is standing there staring at me, and she’s not a happy bunny. A classic fangirl—she’s practically oozing pheromones, the air thick with lust.
“You getting out, or what?”
Translation: “Get the fuck away from my Donny.”
“I’m good,” I say. “But you can sit in my lap, if you want.”
She glares at me.
She clearly had an ulterior motive for this ride—she’s hating every second of me sitting here.Right back at you, sister.She leans forward to look Don in the eye, sending all the signals—it’s so obvious, it hurts. Maybe I should hurther.
“Meet Carrie—my bodyguard,” he says. “Get in the back.”
“Amazing service.”
As she slams my door shut, I glance over at Don.
“You get that I’m bad for business, right?”
“Don’t you dare get out.”
The girl slides into the back seat and clears her throat. I try the handle, but Don has locked the doors. I can feel her eyes burning into the back of my skull, and I cringe.
