Page 103 of My Favorite Hero

It struck me that we were the picture of domesticity. Lying in bed, reading, being quiet, and happy to do so.

“What are you thinking of?” he asked, breaking the silence.

“Nothing much. You kissed me in the parking lot earlier.”

“I did.”

“What if someone had seen? You wanted this private.”

“And it is. No one saw us.”

I hummed and flipped the page in my Kindle. A long finger reached over the top, pulling the device down. “Are you worried about someone seeing us?” he asked.

“Not for me. I’ll be leaving, but you live here. I don’t want you to regret us being seen.”

“Why would I regret it?”

“Other women might think you’re not available.”

He frowned and looked displeased, but he didn’t say anything. I began to stroke his hair again, but he felt tense.

“Do you think I would have sex with you and see other women?” he asked.

I lowered the Kindle. “We never said exclusive.”

“Do you want to see other guys?”

“No.”

“Neither do I.”

“You don’t want to see other guys either?” I teased, wanting to lighten the air. It felt heavy, the tension thick.

“I don’t want to see other women.”

“Okay.”

“So we’re clear?”

“Neither of us wants to see anyone else right now,” I said slowly.

He huffed, and I had a feeling I was missing something.

Exactly what, I wasn’t sure.

I woke up alone, Jesse’s side of the bed cold. It was barely past seven, the sun already bright in the sky. I slid from the bed and peered out the window, hearing the sound of tools being used.

I dressed and made coffee, finding Jesse outside, working on the garden boxes. From the almost completed look, I knew he’d been up for a while. I handed him a cup of coffee, which he took with a grunt and drank, studying his work, not meeting my eyes.

“Have you been at this all night?” I asked.

“No.”

“You must have been up early,” I said lightly, unsure about his demeanor.

“About five.”

“Oh. I missed you when I woke up,” I murmured, hoping he’d smile and say something back.