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Me, on the other hand, not so much in my striped pajama pants and tank top. Every time our legs brush, I lose track of what’s happening on the screen and try not to think about what’s happening low in my belly… a swarm of butterflies.

This whole night is a far cry from my past relationship, where my ex wouldn’t give old movies the time of day. But Beau’s different. He’s not just watching; he’s fully invested, sharing in something that lights me up inside. It’s a simple gesture, but it means the world.

After polishing off the pizza, I stretch out my legs on the table. We fall into a comfortable silence, and I finally start to relax.

But when Beau’s phone pings with a text, the mood shifts.

“Everything okay?” I ask, picking up on his change in demeanor.

“Yeah, just my grandfather,” he responds, though there’s a hint of tension in his smile. Offering to pause the movie, I try to ease his worries. But he waves it off, insisting he’s fine, though his body language tells a different story.

Disappointment flickers through me as he seems to withdraw into his thoughts. Despite my attempts to finish the movie, my mind wanders, wishing I knew how to help… or what to say to make my fake fiancé feel better.

I stifle a yawn, pretending to be more tired than I actually am. “I think I’m going to take a bath,” I announce.

I just need a minute to sort out all these feelings fighting for attention.

I start to gather our plates, but Beau stops me. “No, I’ve got this, Sunny. You go relax.” He gestures toward the mess.

With a grateful smile, I retreat to the bathroom, closing the door behind me with a soft click. And I exhale.

The sound of running water fills the small space as I adjust the temperature, watching steam begin to rise until it blurs my exhausted reflection in the mirror. As I pour in a generous amount of honeysuckle bath oil, the sweet scent fills the air, wrapping around me. But even as I sink into the warm water, I can’t escape the lingering traces of Beau’s presence.

Even in here, I can still smell him, feel him somehow. It’s only been hours, but it’s like he’s already in every corner of this place. With a sigh, I lean back against the porcelain tub, the tension in my muscles slowly melting away. But the ache in my chest only grows. Because after so long being alone, tonight was a taste of what life could be like with someone. With the one.

Despite the soothing warmth surrounding me, doubts nag at the edges of my mind.

How is this going to work? What have I agreed to?

And as I close my eyes and let the water envelop me, I can’t help but think, it’s not that I can’t envision a future with someone like Beau; it’s just… complicated. Because I can.

And that’s an even bigger problem.

It’s probably for the best that he got a text that cut our little pizza party short. Because it was a good little reminder that life outside our safety bubble of this apartment is going to be a whole different reality.

The warmth of the bathwater gradually cools, leaving me shivering as I reluctantly climb out of the tub.

“Shit!” I curse under my breath—I forgot to grab clothes.

After brushing my teeth and putting on lotion, I empty my bladder and decide to put on my big-girl panties and face Beau.

Peeking out of the bathroom, I strain to listen for any signs of him, but all I hear is silence. “Beau?” I call out, my voice tinged with uncertainty, but there’s no reply. Wrapped in a fluffy towel, I venture into my bedroom, relieved to find it empty.

I throw on clean panties, a T-shirt, and sleep shorts before searching for Beau. Pausing in the hallway, I crank up the AC, hoping to get some relief from the suffocating atmosphere that seems to cling to the air.

To my surprise, I find him in the living room, sound asleep on the couch. He looks so uncomfortable, his long, tan legs dangling over the side. I feel a pang of guilt as I notice the makeshift bedding he’s arranged for himself. Before I can second-guess myself, I approach him and gently tap his leg.

“Beau? Wake up,” I whisper, my voice barely above a murmur.

Startled, he sits up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “What’s wrong?” he mumbles, his voice laced with confusion.

“Let’s go to bed,” I suggest, my heart pounding in my chest as I try to mask the tumult of emotions swirling inside me. His eyes widen at the suggestion, and I reach for him, my hand trembling slightly as it lands on his shoulder. He shifts so I’m standing between his legs, our bare skin touching, and it instantly feels about one hundred degrees hotter in here.

“Come on, Beau. Let’s go to bed,” I urge, my voice wavering with uncertainty.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” His gaze flickers with uncertainty.

“I can’t let you sleep here,” I insist, my voice betraying the desperation I feel to erase the distance between us. I drop my hand from his shoulder, and he catches it in his.