Page 46 of Call You Mine
“That works for me,” Anderson says as if we’re just talking about weekend plans—not moving in together.
I never thought I’d ever live with another one of my relationships again.
Granted, after Jett, I never thought I’d find myself in a relationship again, period—even a fake one.
“I have two extra bedrooms, so the two of you can have your pick. Only one has its own bathroom, though.” He hands me a fork and knife to dry, keeping his gaze on his hands in the sink, but I still notice the slight flush of his cheeks. “The other shares mine.”
Of course it fucking does.
I think we both know the whole point of this arrangement is for Georgie to feel comfortable in her own space and just be a fuckingkid.
It’s what she deserves.
She’ll get the room with her own bathroom.
I’ll get the one that shares one.
With Anderson.
The man I’ve been seeing—for sex and sexonly—who I’ll be sharing a roof with.
For months.
“We’ll figure it out,” I say, like it’s nothing, like the thought of brushing past him in that too-small bathroom doesn’t already have my pulse acting up. “I’ve shared worse with less charming company.”
He looks at me, raising a brow. “You think I’m charming?”
“I think that blush in your cheeks is.”
As if on cue, the color in his face deepens, but he doesn’t look away as he hands me the last fork and knife before shutting the faucet off and wiping his hands on his pants again. “And why is that, love?” His voice goes low, that easy-going confidence coming out to play, like he knowsexactlyhow charming he can be.
“Oh, you know,” I drawl, drying off the utensils and putting them away in the drawer opened next to me, closing it with a bump of my hip. “It just reminds me of…something.”
He raises a brow. “Something?”
I nod. Keeping my voice low, I whisper, “It’s the same flush you have in your cheeks with you c?—”
“Ava?”
Anderson jumps at the sound of Georgie calling my name, and I swear I can see all the blood in his body move to his face, that charming confidence replaced with something I find much more attractive in a man.
Who doesn’t love making a man blush?
“Yeah, kiddo?” I yell back into the living room, unbothered.
“Do you think maybe, um, someone can help me change the record?” The nerves in her voice tell me she’s not interested in me helping her, and I don’t fight the smile threatening my lips at the thought of Anderson and these damn records winning over my sister in just one night.
I watch Anderson’s face soften, the embarrassment from a moment ago fading as he grins. “I got this,” he says to me before heading into the living room, immediately falling into easy conversation with Georgie as he teaches her how to properly take the record off, put it away, and place a new one on.
It was never Anderson’s confidence that kept pulling me in.
It was always the softer thing underneath it—somethingboyish, unguarded—the way he flushes like he doesn’t know how to hide what he feels, like his heart insists on showing itself.
And watching him with my sister, the two of them bent close over the music they love, smiling like they’ve known each other forever, I realize it isn’t his charm I need to worry about.
It’s that softness.
Because that’s the part that will break me.
