Pretending

Pretending Chapter 02

Connie woke up slowly, gently urged along by the sunlight peeking through the blinds. She took a moment to orient herself. I don't have piles of books on top of my computer, she thought. Then she remembered where she was and tentatively turned her head. Simon lay behind her, his hand on her waist, sleeping like a log.

Her first instinct was to jump out of the bed, but she quieted herself. That would wake Simon up, and she wasn't sure she was ready for that yet. Instead, she carefully moved his arm and slid out of the bed. He turned over but only to burrow back into the pillow and blanket. She smiled as she left the room, making sure the door didn't slam shut.

Now what? She wondered. Nothing like this had ever happened between them before. There'd been no awkward moments that she could recall, no hugs that went on too long, no almost-kisses, nothing like that. She'd managed to keep her feelings under wraps. But after last night, she wasn't sure she'd be able to much longer. Not when they were planning this charade for the holiday, and not when she'd be sharing a bed with him again.

As she got ready for her shower, she could feel her insecurities rising up again. I do not want to deal with this, she thought despairingly. I can't. My boss wants three projects due when I don't have time for one. Mom has been all over me about Simon. Now this... Stepping under the hot water, she decided she just would have to sort it out in her head and talk later. She just needed to get through Thanksgiving, which mercifully was only five days away, and three of those would be occupied with work.

It was difficult, though, to ignore what had happened. She'd dreamed about it, hoped for it, and then... she'd almost had it.

x-x-x-x

Simon woke up and out of habit reached out to smack the snooze button on his clock. Gradually, it dawned on him that it had been quiet before he hit it, and was still quiet. Ah, he thought, it's Saturday. Thank heavens for that. He recalled how Friday had worn him out with meetings and deadlines. He was so tired that he'd almost been afraid to drive home. When he did get home, he felt badly that he could barely keep his eyes open before saying good night to Connie.

He had to admit, he was really enjoying being her boyfriend. Pretending, he corrected himself, and sighed when he recalled Connie's words the night before. That led to thoughts of what followed and... wow, what had followed had been great. The feel of her next to him, under him, touching him -- it had driven him crazy. He wanted it again.

That was when he realized Connie wasn't in the bed. Oh, no, he thought, did I just screw it all up? No, he reassured himself after a minute's reflection, he didn't think so. Connie was a fairly early riser, even on weekends, and probably hadn't wanted to wake him after he'd been so exhausted. Would she talk about what happened? He was willing to bet not, at least not right away.

After analyzing the situation, and what he knew about Connie, he decided it was best to wait before talking, and certainly before confessing his feelings. If he told her now, he was sure that she wouldn't believe him. She would think he was doing it out of obligation, which wasn't true, but it would be hard to convince her. One thing he'd learned during this rehearsal period was that Connie put on a good front of self-confidence, but it wasn't always true. He didn't want to pressure her.

I'll find the right time, he promised himself. It will have to wait, but I'll find the right time.

x-x-x-x

Thanksgiving seemed to arrive suddenly. They both worked hard Monday through Wednesday as their offices moved to make up for lost time that the days flew by. It seemed to Connie that before she knew it they were in Simon's car, which was larger than hers and more comfortable, and starting on the four-hour drive that would take them to her parents.