Acting The Part

Chapter 19: Megan

The smell of fresh coffee drifted through the kitchen as I moved quietly, trying not to make too much noise. Caleb was still asleep, and I wanted to keep it that way for as long as possible. After all, I owed him breakfast after last night.

My cheeks warmed at the memory of him beneath me, the way he had looked up at me like I was the only thing in the world that mattered.

I shook my head, trying to focus on the task at hand. Eggs. Bacon. Toast. It wasn't anything fancy, but it was something. And after the way we'd torn through each other last night, I figured he'd need the energy. I certainly did.

I glanced over my shoulder toward the hallway, half-expecting to see him standing there, watching me with that devilish smirk of his. But the house was still quiet.

The early morning light filtered through the kitchen windows, casting a soft, golden glow over the countertops. It was peaceful, a stark contrast to the chaos of the night before.

As I set the table, I couldn't help but smile to myself. I wasn't used to this—waking up in someone else's home, feeling comfortable enough to move around like I belonged there. But with Caleb, it felt different.

Natural, even. Like maybe this wasn't just some benefit of the agreement. My heart fluttered at the thought, and I quickly pushed it down.

Relax, Megan. Don't get ahead of yourself.

The sizzling of bacon brought me back to reality, and I focused on flipping the strips, trying to keep my thoughts from spiraling. It was just breakfast. I was just being nice.

That's what any normal person would do after a night like ours, right?

As if on cue, I heard the soft creak of floorboards behind me. I turned, spatula in hand, just in time to see Caleb sauntering into the kitchen, looking far too good for someone who had just rolled out of bed. His hair was tousled, his shirtless chest gleaming in the morning light, and there was a lazy grin on his face that made my stomach flip.

"Morning," he said, his voice still thick with sleep.

"Morning," I replied, my cheeks heating under his gaze. "I made breakfast."

He raised an eyebrow, clearly pleased. "You didn't have to do that, you know."

I shrugged, turning back to the stove to hide the blush creeping up my neck. "I wanted to."

Before I could react, I felt his hands on my waist, warm and solid. He pressed his body against mine, his chest flush against my back as he leaned down to nuzzle the side of my neck. I bit my lip, trying to suppress the shiver that ran through me.

"Still," he murmured, his breath hot against my skin. "The only thing I need in the mornings is you... within reach."

His hands slid lower, his fingers brushing the waistband of my pajama shorts, and I felt my heart skip a beat. "Caleb," I whispered, half warning, half breathless. I was glad, he seemed to be back to normal unlike last night.

He chuckled, the sound low and rough in my ear. "And maybe," he continued, "we can take care of something else while we're at it."

I felt him press against me from behind, unmistakably hard and ready. My entire body flushed with heat.

"Bad boy," I moaned softly, instinctively leaning back into him. But then I glanced at the clock on the wall and forced myself to stay focused. "Caleb, it's almost eight. You need to eat or you'll be late for work."

He groaned, tightening his hold on me. "Work can wait."

I laughed, turning in his arms to face him, my hands resting on his chest. "No, it can't. And I have to go to work today, too."

He blinked, clearly caught off guard. "Work? Where?"

I bit my lip, suddenly a little shy. "It's just a minor role. My last day of shooting, actually. It's not far—only about a twenty-minute walk from here."

Caleb's eyes narrowed with interest. "A minor role, huh? You didn't tell me about this."

"It's nothing big," I said, brushing it off. "Just a small part. But it's important to me."

He nodded, his hands still resting on my waist. "Okay. But you'll text me when you get there, right?"

I smiled, amused at how protective he was being. "Yes, I'll text you."

Before I could say anything else, he leaned down and kissed me, soft but firm, his lips warm and possessive. It caught me completely off guard, and for a moment, I just stood there, frozen in place.

When he pulled back, my heart was racing, and I could already feel the heat creeping up my neck again.

"You never get used to that, do you?" he teased, brushing a stray lock of hair behind my ear.

I laughed, trying to shake off the butterflies that were suddenly wreaking havoc in my stomach. "No, I don't."

He kissed me again, softer this time, before finally stepping back. "Alright, let's eat."

We sat down at the table, the smell of bacon and eggs filling the room as we dug into the breakfast I'd made. It was quiet for a while, but not in an uncomfortable way. Just... peaceful. Like we'd done this a million times before.

I watched him as he ate, his jaw working as he chewed, his eyes occasionally flicking up to meet mine. There was something about him in the morning—something softer, more relaxed. When we made love last night, he'd been all heat and intensity, but right now, sitting across from me with that lazy smile on his lips, he seemed almost... comfortable.

And I liked that. Maybe a little too much.

"So," I said after a few bites, trying to break the silence. "What's on your agenda for today?"

Caleb leaned back in his chair, wiping his mouth with a napkin. "The usual. Meetings. More meetings. Maybe a crisis or two."

I laughed. "Sounds thrilling."

He smirked. "You'd be surprised."

He moved around the table and went to my side, and kissed me on the forehead while enveloping me in his arms. I stagnated for a beat and smiled.

I twisted in his arms, playfully pushing him away. "You're going to be late, and we both know it."

He sighed, but I could see the amusement in his eyes. "Fine. But only because you're right."

I pushed him away and laughed as he grabbed his jacket and keys, watching him as he moved toward the door. Just before he stepped out, he turned back to me, his expression softening.

"Text me when you get to the set, okay?"

"I will," I promised.

He smiled, then crossed the room in two long strides, kissed me again—this time slower, more deliberate—then pulled back just enough to look me in the eyes. "I mean it, Megan. I want to know you're safe."

I nodded, my heart racing, trying to keep the smile off my face. "I'll be fine."

With one last lingering look, he finally left, the door clicking shut behind him.

I stood there for a moment, staring at the door, my heart still pounding in my chest. I told myself to calm down, to relax. This was just casual, just fun. Nothing more. This was all part of the agreement. Of the fake marriage.

But as I turned back to the kitchen and started cleaning up, I couldn't help but wonder if that was really true. Because the way he looked at me, the way he kissed me, the way he seemed to care about me...

Maybe I was in more danger of falling for him than I wanted to admit.

Or maybe I already had.

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