Contract to love

Chapter Thirteen:Shared Bed

In Ethan’s old room, it was 11:10 p.m.

The room was well organized and simple, a typical men's room.

It was Nora's first thought when she stepped inside.

It was also far too big for two people who were supposedly pretending to be a couple and had spent most of the evening carefully avoiding anything that might make the pretense feel too real.

There was a king-sized bed in the center of the room, a fireplace against one wall, two doors leading to separate parts of the suite, and a bathroom as large as Nora’s own back home.

She stood near the window, staring out at the dark gardens below.

Behind her, Ethan closed the door.

The click sounded strangely final.

Nora turned.

“I can take the couch.”

Ethan had already loosened his tie. He paused at her suggestion.

“No.”

She raised an eyebrow. “No?”

“My mother will notice.”

Nora glanced at the enormous bed.

“She won't know where we slept.”

“She will, I know her.”

“How?”

“Because she's my mother.”

That made Nora smile despite herself.

Ethan pulled his watch off and placed it on the bedside table.

“And if she finds out we slept separately,” he continued, “she'll ask why.”

Nora sighed.

“Right.”

“Optics,” she said.”

For a second, they simply looked at each other.

There was something funny about their situation. They had spent the entire day convincing Ethan's family that their relationship was real, and now they were standing in Ethan’s old room negotiating which side of a bed they were going to occupy.

Nora walked toward the bed.

“Fine. But we're staying on our own sides.”

Ethan's mouth twitched.

“I wasn't planning on invading your territory.”

“My territory?”

“The left side.”

She looked at him.

“You've already assigned sides?”

“I always sleep on the right.”

“Convenient.”

“I like routine.”

“Of course you do.”

He gave her a look that made her smile again.

The tension eased slightly.

Nora changed into the pajamas given to her, and she climbed into bed, leaving an exaggerated amount of space between them.

Nearly three feet.

Nora pulled the blanket up to her chin.

Ethan turned off the lamp.

Darkness settled over the room.

For several minutes, neither of them spoke.

Nora stared into the darkness.

She could hear the faint ticking of the clock on the wall and Ethan's breathing on the other side of the bed.

She closed her eyes, eyes exhausted.

The board meeting, Eleanor's questions, Lucas's comments and the constant awareness that every movement, every smile, every word could be interpreted as part of their carefully constructed relationship.

It had been a long day.

Too long.

Within minutes, exhaustion won.

Nora fell asleep.

At exactly 3:30a.m.

Ethan woke slowly.

At first, he wasn't sure what had disturbed him.

Then he felt the weight against his chest.

He opened his eyes.

Nora.

Somehow, during the night, she'd crossed the entire distance between them.

Her head rested against his chest, one arm loosely wrapped around his waist. One leg had slipped over his, and she was curled against him as though she'd been sleeping there for years.

Ethan went completely still.

For several seconds, he simply stared at the ceiling.

He could move her, he probably should, but he couldn’t bring himself to.

This was exactly the sort of thing that could complicate everything.

Nora shifted slightly, her face pressing more comfortably against his chest.

Ethan's hand rested around the edge of the blanket.

He looked down at her.

She was completely unaware.

There was none of the guarded confidence she carried during the day, no careful smile, no sharp response and no professional distance.

She looked peaceful.

And, for some reason, that worried him more than it should have.

He considered gently moving her back to her side.

Instead, he stayed still.

Five minutes became twenty.

Twenty became an hour.

At some point, Ethan stopped thinking about moving her at all.

He simply lay there, staring into the darkness, painfully aware of the warmth of her beside him.

He didn't sleep again.

6:30 a.m.

Nora woke slowly.

Warm.

That was the first thing she noticed.

It was warm and comfortable.

Then she became aware of the solid surface beneath her cheek.

His chest.

Her eyes opened.

She froze.

For one terrible second, her sleepy brain refused to process what she was seeing.

Then everything came rushing back.

Ethan’s room, his bed.

Her eyes widened.

She was practically wrapped around him.

“Oh my God.”

She scrambled backward so quickly that her elbow caught the pillow, and she nearly rolled straight off the bed.

Ethan caught her wrist before she could fall.

“Careful.”

Nora stared at him.

Her hair was a complete mess.

Her face was burning.

“I—”

Ethan released her wrist immediately.

“You're fine.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“You don't have to apologize.”

“I didn't mean to—”

“I know.”

“I must have moved in my sleep.”

“You did.”

Nora covered her face for a second.

“This is humiliating.”

Ethan actually smiled.

It was small, but it was there.

“You were cold.”

She lowered her hands.

“You noticed?”

“You kept pulling the blanket away.”

Nora stared at him.

“You were awake?”

There was a brief pause.

“Eventually.”

She narrowed her eyes.

“How long is it eventually?”

Ethan looked away.

“Not important.”

“Ethan.”

He stood, straightening his shirt.

“Go get ready and have your bath.”

Nora watched him suspiciously.

“You're not going to mention this?”

“There’s nothing to mention.”

She gave him an embarrassed smile.

“Thank you.”

His expression softened.

“You're welcome.”

A knock sounded on the door.

Both of them turned.

Eleanor's voice came through.

“Breakfast in fifteen minutes. Nora, your seat is saved.”

Nora looked at Ethan.

“Your mother is very nice.”

“I told you.”

She laughed quietly.

Ethan opened the door.

“Good morning, Mother.”

Eleanor smiled.

“Good morning.”

Her eyes moved between them.

Just once.

But Nora noticed.

“Breakfast,” Eleanor repeated. “Fifteen minutes.”

“Yes.”

The door closed.

Nora exhaled.

“That look.”

“She knows something.”

Ethan shook his head.

“She always thinks she knows something.”

Nora picked up her clothes.

“Well, she's your mother. Maybe she does.”

7:00 a.m.

Breakfast was peaceful.

Nora sat beside Eleanor, exactly where she'd been told to sit.

Ethan sat across from them.

Lucas was already there, drinking coffee and looking far too amused by everything.

Nora tried to ignore him.

She focused on her breakfast instead.

“So,” Lucas said casually, “did everyone sleep well?”

Ethan looked up.

Nora nearly choked on her coffee.

Eleanor's eyes immediately landed on Lucas.

“Lucas.”

He raised both hands.

“What?”

“Eat your breakfast.”

“I was only asking.”

“And I'm telling you to eat.”

Lucas smiled into his coffee.

Nora lowered her eyes, trying desperately not to smile.

Across the table, Ethan caught her expression.

Their eyes met.

For one brief second, they shared the same silent amusement.

And that realization made Nora look away.

After breakfast, Eleanor found her in the garden.

The morning air was cool, and sunlight spilled across the paths between the flowers.

Nora expected another question about the company.

Instead, Eleanor said quietly, “You and Ethan look good together.”

Nora stopped walking.

There it was.

The question she’s aware of the answer.

She turned with a polite smile.

“We respect and adore each other.”

Eleanor studied her.

“That's important.”

“It is.”

“Especially when two people work together.”

Nora nodded.

“We've learned how to separate business from everything else.”

Eleanor smiled faintly.

“Have you?”

Nora hesitated.

The question caught her off guard.

Before she could answer, Eleanor continued.

“I don't mean to pry.”

“It's okay.”

“I like you, Nora.”

Nora's expression softened.

“Thank you.”

“And I think Ethan is happier around you.”

Nora looked down at the flowers beside the path.

“He seems happy with his family.”

“I know my son.”

There was something in Eleanor's voice that made Nora look up.

“You're good for him.”

Nora didn't know what to say to that.

So she gave the safest answer.

“We're good for each other.”

Eleanor smiled.

“Of course.”

But the way she said it made Nora suspect she didn't believe a word of it.

The drive home was quiet.

For the first twenty minutes, neither of them spoke.

Nora sat beside Ethan, watching the scenery pass through the window.

She kept thinking about the night before, waking up against him and the way he'd handled it.

He hadn't teased her, he hadn't made her feel foolish or uncomfortable.

He had simply treated it as though it were nothing.

Which somehow made it harder to stop thinking about it.

Finally, Nora broke the silence.

“Thank you.”

Ethan glanced at her.

“For what?”

“For last night.”

His eyes returned to the road.

“You already thanked me.”

“I know.”

“Then why are you thanking me again?”

“Because I feel like I embarrassed myself.”

“You didn't.”

“I practically climbed on top of you.”

Ethan's mouth curved slightly.

“You were asleep.”

“That doesn't make it less embarrassing.”

“No,” he said. “It doesn't.”

She turned toward him.

“You're enjoying this.”

“Maybe a little.”

Nora stared at him.

He smiled.

A real smile this time.

She shook her head.

“I knew it.”

“What?”

“You're enjoying watching me suffer.”

“I wouldn't call it suffering.”

“What would you call it?”

He thought for a moment.

“Beautiful.”

Nora went completely silent.

Ethan seemed to realize what he'd said only after the word had already left his mouth.

His fingers tightened slightly around the steering wheel.

Nora turned toward the window.

Her cheeks were warm again.

Neither of them spoke for a while.

Then Ethan cleared his throat.

“You know what I meant.”

“Of course.”

“I meant—”

“You don't have to explain.”

“I wasn't calling you—”

“I said, You don't have to explain.”

There was a warm silence.

Nora rested her head against the window.

A small smile appeared on her lips.

Ethan saw it, but didn't say anything.

Neither of them said anything.

That morning had changed something, but not enough to make their arrangement real and not

Enough to make either of them admit what they were beginning to feel.

But enough to make the distance between them seem a little less necessary.

Neither of them noticed the growing feelings.