Chapter 23

“MacGregor?”

“No.”

“Donahue?”

“No.”

“Blackwell?”

Amantha looked at me and laughed. “No.”

That was my last name.

“Want it to be?” I teased.

I kinda did. This monogamy thing was growing on me. Forget the fact that I'd known her less than two weeks.

She raised an eyebrow. “Nice try. But no one expects more here, remember?” She turned back to her monitor.

I frowned. We had agreed to that. This “going back for seconds” thing was messing with my head. Maybe she was right.

The phone rang, and Amantha had to take a call. In the meantime, Joey called me back to help repack some parachutes before the next client.

He acted normal, completely ignoring what he'd walked in to see.

Over the next few days, Amantha and I fell into a routine. I finally retrieved my truck but still spent my nights on her couch. Whenever I wasn't jumping, I was hanging out at her desk and guessing, even on my days off.

I found myself growing more comfortable around her. To the point that, surprisingly, once I even said, “You should just marry me, then your last name wouldn't be in question.”

She laughed at me, but amazingly I was serious.

“If that was a proposal, you need to rethink your strategy,” she teased. “Plus, we have an arrangement. No one expects more.”

My words had slipped out and I hadn't thought about them before I said it, but it did make me wonder: did I want more than “friends with benefits” with Amantha?