Chapter 20 Only One Bed?
ONLY ONE BED?
PAIGE
“We’re going shopping this afternoon,” Derek had said in the morning after he got a threatening call from his mom that he has to visit his cousin’s wedding with me and Lily.
“Why?” I was still shocked that Charlotte, Derek’s mom, wanted to meet me.
I mean, of course, she would. She had known me since we were kids, and now I’m dating her son.
He gave me a look and said, “I need to buy underwear.”
I had rolled my eyes, thinking he was bluffing.
But he wasn’t.
Since I found myself in an exclusive boutique, standing in a private suite while assistants brought in gown after gown and Derek sat sprawled in an oversized chair, a paper-bag full of his underwear (he wears briefs, yummy.)
“You know I can pick out my own dress, right?” I said with an annoyed sigh after he shook his head at the fifth dress.
“I know. But I’m paying, so I get a say,” he grinned. “Besides, I have excellent taste.”
He was enjoying playing Barbie with me.
“You have expensive taste,” I corrected him, eyeing the price tags that made my stomach drop.
“Same thing.”
I eyed the lilac dress that had been tucked near the back of the rack. I walked towards it and held it up. It was soft with a flowing fabric.
“That one,” Derek said, straightening in his chair. “Try that one.”
In the changing room, I struggled with the zipper, my arms twisted awkwardly behind me. A knock on the door made me freeze.
“Need help?” Derek’s voice muffled through the wood.
“I-um, yes, please.”
He stepped inside, and the changing room that felt spacious suddenly seemed tiny with both of us in it. His fingers felt warm against my spine as he slowly pulled the zipper up. I held my breath, watching his face in the mirror.
His jaw was clenched as he focused on the zipper as if it was a court document.
“There,” he whispered, his voice deep and rough. He cleared his throat, meeting my eyes in the mirror. “Perfect.”
The dress made my skin glow against the soft purple. But it was the way Derek looked at me that made me feel beautiful.
“We’ll take it,” he said to the assistant, not taking his eyes off me.
“This is too much,” I whispered, holding his arm. “This dress costs more than my monthly salary.”
He covered my hand with his, giving it a gentle squeeze. “You’re forgetting that you’re my girlfriend, Paige-bear. And I love spoiling my pretty girlfriend,” he said, tapping his index finger on my nose.
I glared at him and corrected, “Fake girlfriend.”
“Yes, yes,” he said, rolling his eye. “Fake girlfriend.”
Even though I didn’t know how to feel about him spending so much on me, I tried hard not to blush when the assistant commented on my boyfriend’s choice when he paid for the dress.
“There’s been a mistake,” I said to Derek, who was busy unpacking Lily’s things. “How can there be only one bed?”
I was standing in the hotel room, staring at the single king-size bed.
Why is the universe conspiring against my self-control?
He glanced at it, then back at me. “Couples usually share beds, Paige. We are supposed to be in a relationship, remember?”
“Yes. I know. I just—” I said, shaking my head. “I can take the couch.”
“You are not taking the couch,” he said, moving towards me. I held my breath at the intensity in his eyes. “We are adults. We can share a bed without—” He stopped and cleared his throat. “It’ll be fine.”
It absolutely would not be fine, but I nodded anyway.
We shared a bed when we were kids. Even when we were teenagers, without our parents knowing. All we had done was cuddle and teenage-Paige getting horrified at the concept of morning wood.
Derek left early with Lily, giving me time to get ready without a curious toddler trying to eat my makeup. I took my time with my hair and makeup, trying to quiet the butterflies in my stomach.
This was just another performance in our fake relationship.
So why does it feel so much more significant?
I was going to meet his family, that's why. Not as his friend. But as his girlfriend, his fake-fiancée.
I was checking my reflection one last time when someone knocked on the door. I opened the door to find an elegant woman in her fifties with Derek’s blue eyes and warm smile.
“Paige!” Charlotte Peterson pulled me into a hug. “Oh, look at you! You look absolutely stunning!”
“Mrs. Peterson… Charlotte—hi!” I said, hugging her back, surprised by how genuinely happy she seemed to see me. “Thank you. You look beautiful too.”
“Please.” She waved a hand dismissively but was smiling.
“I’m just so glad to finally see you two together.
I always told Derek he was an idiot for not asking you out years ago.
” She squeezed my hand. “You were always my favorite of his friends. So much more lovely than the other girls he used to bring around.”
Heat crept up my neck because it felt wrong to lie to her.
“Oh, I… we are—”
“I have eyes, dear. The way my son looks at you?” She said, smiling knowingly. “That boy has been smitten since you were children. I’m just glad he finally got smart enough to do something about it.”
If only she knew the truth. That this was all pretend and that Derek was just helping me through my divorce. That—
“Come on,” Charlotte said, linking her arm through mine. “Let’s go find my son before the ceremony starts. I want to see his face when he sees you in that dress.”
We walked through the hotel gardens where the wedding was being held, past roses and ivy-covered arbors, and toward the ceremony site. Charlotte chatted easily about family gossip I had forgotten, and I tried to ignore the growing nervousness in my stomach.
Then I saw him.
Derek stood near the entrance, Lily perched on his hip in the adorable yellow dress I had picked out for her. He was wearing a charcoal suit that fit him perfectly, his dark hair slightly tousled like he ran his hand through it.
When he turned and saw me… everything else faded away. His eyes went wide, his lips parting slightly. And the look on his face made my heart stutter in my chest. Like he was in a dream.
“There’s my boy,” Charlotte’s warm voice snapped me out of my trance. “Derek, doesn’t Paige look absolutely beautiful?”
He didn’t answer, but kept staring at me like I was the only person in the garden.
“I’ll just take this little angel,” Charlotte said, plucking Lily from Derek’s arms with practiced ease. Lily went willingly, already reaching for Charlotte’s pearl necklace. “You two enjoy the ceremony. We’ll be right up front if you need us.”
She disappeared into the crowd, leaving Derek and me standing there staring at each other.
He moved first, crossing the distance between us. His hand came up to cup my face, thumb brushing my cheekbone, and he leaned in close enough that I could smell his cologne.
“You look so fucking beautiful,” he whispered, his voice husky and low. He pressed a kiss to my cheek, his lips lingering against my skin. “It’s going to be really hard to keep my hands to myself today.”
Blood rushed to my cheeks and I glanced around, very aware that we were surrounded by his family.
“We’re at your cousin’s wedding,” I whispered, trying to sound stern. “Behave.”
His grin made my stomach flip. “No promises.”
His hand found mine, fingers intertwining, as he pulled me toward the ceremony seating.
I couldn’t stop sneaking glances at him.
The way the afternoon light caught his profile, the proud way he introduced me to relatives as ‘my perfect and beautiful girlfriend, Paige,’ the way his thumb kept tracing circles on the back of my hand.
During the ceremony, we sat in the back, his arm draped casually across my shoulders.
When the bride and groom exchanged vows, promising to love each other through everything, Derek’s hand tightened slightly on my shoulder.
I felt him looking at me, and when I turned to meet his eyes, there was something in his expression that made my breath catch.
“What?” I whispered.
He shook his head slightly, his eyes glancing at my lips for a flicker of a second. “Nothing. Just—” He paused. “You’re beautiful, Paige. I don’t tell you that enough.”
“Derek, we—”
“I know we are pretending,” he said, his voice so low only I could hear it. “But sometimes it doesn’t feel like pretending. Does it?”
My throat went dry and I couldn’t answer. I couldn’t find words that wouldn’t give away too much, wouldn’t reveal that I stopped pretending weeks ago. That every smile I gave him was real, every touch genuine, every moment together something I treasured.
So instead, I leaned into him slightly, let my head rest against his shoulder, and whispered, “No. It doesn’t.”
His arm tightened around me, and we stayed like that through the rest of the ceremony, wrapped up in each other while the bride and groom promised forever.