Roommate Arrangement (Divorced Men's Club #1)(39)

I’m worried my idea is juvenile, or he’ll think it’s the dumbest thing ever, but it’s not like I have a whole lot of options here.

Our date takes me almost an hour to set up, and I think I’m happy by the time I’m done. Beau still isn’t up, so I risk a fast shower and then get changed into jeans and a nice T-shirt, and then … all I can do is wait.

Sometimes Beau isn’t up until well past midnight, and I’m praying tonight isn’t one of those nights. The longer I wait, the more I doubt, and my brain keeps jumping between Beau being touched by what I’ve done and him finding it extremely odd.

Half an hour later, I hear a noise and spring off my bed to meet Beau at his door by the time he pops it open.

His sleepy blue eyes blink up at me, clearer up close and without glasses, and his tight curls are a frizzy mess.

“What’s up?” he mumbles, still half asleep, even as a small smile pulls at his lips.

“Get dressed.”

“Huh?”

“Trust me.” I gently turn him to face his room again. “Something you feel comfortable in.”

And maybe I should have said something nice you feel comfortable in, because he comes back out wearing low-slung gray sweatpants and a long-sleeved T-shirt, his dark blond chest hair visible at the V-neck.

No one has any right to look as sexy in gray sweatpants as he does.

I let my gaze travel over him, and by the time I get back to his face, his cheeks look flushed.

“This okay?”

“Yep.” I take his hand “You’ll do.”

“Do for what?”

Beau doesn’t react to his hand in mine at all. Like it’s a completely normal thing we do together. I almost wish it was, because when Beau looks up at me … no one has ever looked at me like that before. As though I’m important. Wanted. Needed, even.

If this was a real date, I’d lean down and brush my lips over his. Maybe back him into the wall and find out how those pink lips taste.

Instead, I give Beau’s hand a tug and lead him into the living room.





16





Beau


I’m still fighting off tiredness as Payne pulls me through the apartment. The lights are off, and a flash of lightning hits the sky outside, lighting up the space. Including a very large something hunched over in front of the sliding doors.

My first thought is dragon! but thankfully I manage to keep that one to myself because duh, Beau, dragons aren’t real. But … what is it?

I squint into the shadows as Payne pulls me closer.

“What am I looking at?”

He turns to face me, large hand still warming mine, and I can make out a hint of his features in the low light. “Well, the original plan was a picnic under the stars, and then this happened.” He waves his hand toward where the storm is coming down outside. “So I improvised.”

“Okay …”

“You’re worried about your date tomorrow, right?”

My lips part, but nothing comes out, because I’m not sure what to say. Yes, I’m dreading it, and not only because I hate dating, but also because it’s not with you probably isn’t the response he’s after. So I hum what I hope is an affirmative sound.

“Well, I thought tonight could be a practice run.”

“A practice run?”

“Sure. We’ll pretend this is a date. Make small talk, practice flirting, whatever you need.”

I give him a cheeky smile. “Do I get a good-night kiss at the end?”

“Now you’re pushing your luck.”

But as he turns to crawl into a little pink tent, I mourn the shadows hiding that gorgeous ass from my greedy view.

I grab my glasses from my desk, then follow him.

One side of the tent is open onto the glass doors, and the floor is covered in pillows and cushions that look familiar.

“Are those the girls’ things?”

“Yup.” Payne flicks a switch, and through the flimsy roof of the kiddie tent comes the glow of twinkle lights. He points at them. “As close to a sky as I could get for you.”

“If it wasn’t pink,” I point out.

His laugh is warm and happy. It lights me up inside. “Apparently they don’t make kids tents in black. Who knew?”

I watch while he grabs a picnic basket and sets it on the strip of floor in front of the doors. Another flash of lightning lights up the space, but even with it gone, my eyes are adjusting to the low light, and Payne is coming into focus.

“You did this for me?” I ask.

He clears his throat as he sets out the food. “Don’t get too excited. I don’t have a whole lot of other things happening in my life.”

He’s trying to brush it off as nothing, so I’ll let him, but this is possibly the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me. I want to close the small space between us and kiss him, but that’s not going to convince either of us that I’m getting over my crush.

“Well, cheers to that.” I reach over and take the glass of wine that he’s poured.

“To having no life?”

“Exactly.” We tap our glasses together.

“So, Beau, was it?” Payne says. “How long have you lived in Kilborough?”