I brace my hands against the mattress and bounce up and down on Derek's bed, wondering how in the world I'm going to get through this night in one piece.

I never should have moved my things into Derek's room.

It sounded like a good idea at the time.

There was zero chance of him allowing me to sleep in his bed.

I thought that after breakfast, and he was no longer stunned by my outburst this morning, he would get all angry and march us down to the courthouse, demanding an annulment.

A girl can dream, can't she?

Why in the world did I demand that he treat me like George treats my mom? I'm pretty sure no husband in the entire world has ever treated their wife better than George treats Mom.

My demand wasn't even realistic.

And did I even want a husband as perfect as George? Honestly, it sounded a little boring.

No offense to George.

Anyway, Derek and I went to an early movie like he suggested. We spent fifteen minutes arguing over what to see, and then he paid for both of our tickets, much to my surprise. Derek then proceeded to spent double the amount of money he normally would have on popcorn, candy, and soda. I know he only bought two of everything so that he wouldn't have to share with me. The thought of accidentally touching me or having to speak to me in any way was too much for him to bear.

Jerk.

I can hear the water in the bathroom running right now.

Derek is brushing his teeth. He always leaves the water running when he brushes his teeth. It annoys me like crazy. Of course, everything Derek does annoys me, but you get the point.

I fall back against the pillows, trying my best to get comfortable and clear my rapidly moving thoughts.

I give a heavy sigh, staring up at the ceiling, contemplating my miserable life for the hundredth time this weekend.

Derek's double sized bed is much smaller when you're lying in it.

I groan, pulling the blankets under my arms and bunching the fabric in my hands. This was not going to work.

I can slowly feel the panic beginning to build at the thought of Derek and I sleeping together.

No! Not sleeping together. That's not what I meant.

Like…sleeping together.

He probably snores. Not that I've ever heard him snore before considering I've always slept in a room right next to his. I'm sure I would have heard it if he actually did snore. Plus, we've spent nights in a hotel room together on several occasions.

You know…with Edwin, Lizzie, and Marti present, of course.

But never in the same bed.

I've never been in the same bed with a guy before.

Oh my goodness.

I throw the blankets off of me and run to my room across the hall, the sounds of the faucet still running as my step-brother – husband – whatever you want to call him, wastes more water than it would take to fill the Hoover Dam.

I grab the fluffy pillows off my bed, hugging them tight to my body as I waddle my way back to Derek's room. Immediately, I arrange them so that our bodies will remain separated and I won't have to worry about touching him in any way shape or form.

I give a satisfied sigh, rocking back forth, pleased with my work.

Feeling better already, I climb back into bed and settle down just in time to hear the water shut off and Derek's footsteps making their way to the bedroom.

I hold my breath as he saunters in, his eyes already sleepy from the exhausting day we had trying to be nice to one another. He scratches the back of his head, pausing momentarily when his dark eyes settle over me.

For a moment, I'm convinced I see his own panic, which is understandable considering the massive anxiety attack I'm currently having on the inside. But he quickly masks it with his old Derek charm, placing his hands on his hips before kicking the door shut with one foot.

"What are you doing?"

"I - - I'm about to go to sleep. Duh," I stutter, rolling my eyes at his stupid question.

"I mean," he points towards my brilliant invention. "What's with the Great Wall of Pillows?"

I smile brightly, genuinely pleased with my idea. "Isn't it perfect? We can sleep in the same bed like a regular married couple without risking any chance what-so-ever of touching."

He folds his arms, looking at me from beneath his bangs.

"Yeah. Because it's totally normal for married couples to sleep with a barrier between them," he says, his voice thick with amusement and sarcasm.

"It is when the marriage is a farce," I can't help but blurt out, holding tight to my comforter for support.

I momentarily see his features sober, but once again, it disappears just as quickly.

"Okay, Case," he begins. "Nobody is twisting your arm to sleep in the same bed with me. If you're too freaked out at the thought of touching me, then maybe you should go back to that nice big empty bed across the hall. Do us both a favor and get lost."

I'm very close to doing just that.

But if I give in and go back to my own room, then I can only imagine the smug, egotistically smirk I will have to look at for the rest of my life. I can't back down from my own prank. I'll never hear the end of it.

However, not backing down from a prank is why I'm currently living out this nightmare.

Instead, I reluctantly grab both of my pillows I had placed perfectly between us and toss them onto the floor next to me. "Fine," I growl through my teeth. "Happy?"

He scoffs. "Whatever."

Ahhhhhh! He makes me so mad. So much for getting along. Today had been a fight to stay cordial with one another, but apparently, that was now gone.

With a heavy sigh, Derek reaches for the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head in one swift movement. I bolt up quickly, holding the blankets to my chest despite wearing my heaviest pajamas with baby ducks on them. "What are you doing?" I ask in a slight panic at the sight of Derek's naked chest.

"Getting ready for bed," he smirks just before tucking his thumbs into the waistband of his sweats and tugging them down.

At least, I think he tugged them down, because the second his thumbs were securely in place, I covered my eyes, slapping myself in the face before I could see anything.

Holy crap.

Get a grip Casey. You're eighteen years old. You're not a child anymore. You've seen naked men before…well, not naked, per se. Come to think of it, the only guy I've ever come close to seeing as naked at Derek was Derek himself. But that's only because he's a pig and loves to rile me up.

Also, Emily thought it would be funny and educational to show me porn once. It so wasn't.

"Are you fucking serious?" I can hear Derek ask in a bored voice at I continue covering my eyes. "My God Casey. You're eighteen. Act like it for once."

His words make me instantly angry, but I uncover my eyes, only so I can pin him with a look of fury. In turn, he lifts one eyebrow as if challenging me to rip him a new one. That's what he's expecting – and I'm not going to give him the satisfaction.

I notice he's wearing a pair of boxer briefs and I refuse to let my gaze wonder further down than his irritating face. The last thing I need to see is an outline of…

My face instantly warms before I can even finish the thought. Hopefully, Derek will think the redness has to do with my rage, and nothing else.

Slowly lowering myself back down onto the pillow, I take a calming breath and say nothing more.

Well, I hadn't intended on saying anything more…

"Since when do you sleep without clothes on?" I ask, my body going ridged as Derek pulls back the covers to lie down. I can't help but move a little closer to the edge. I'm as far over as space will allow without actually flinging me to the floor. Luckily, my giant pillows are on the ground to break my fall.

"It's how I always use to sleep before you women invaded my house. Dad told me I had to wear something decent to bed incase you girls saw me and freaked out. Chicks," he said, turning onto his side, facing away from me. "I had every intention of going back to my comfy ways until our 'rents forced us to move into together. But now that we're married, I'm going to let it all hang out."

He twisted his body to look at me, winking. "Is that a problem, Case? Too much sexy for you to handle?"

I narrow my eyes, fighting the urge to slam my fist into his cocky face. "Bite me."

I walk towards class, my body freezing from the brutally cold March air.

Spring is right around the corner, but it still feels like winter is in full force.

I hardly slept a wink last night, too.

I'd be lying if I didn't say Casey looked kind of cute, all bundled beneath the blankets and freaking out with her long duck pajamas on. The pillow wall had been a nice touch, too. But I wouldn't be me unless I gave her a hard time about it. Also, maybe taking off my clothes had been going a tad far, but I was silently hoping she would run for the hills. An entire night with Casey in my bed sounded terrifying.

And I had been right.

I laid on my side the whole night, listening to Casey breathe. Her scent was sending me into overdrive. Having a girl in my bed had my body tightening in places I'd rather not discuss.

But it had nothing to do with Casey being Casey. Right? It was just because she was a girl and guys didn't care who it was as long as they got some.

At least, that's what I've been telling myself over and over since last night.

But whenever those kinds of thoughts popped into my head, I was slapped back to reality – literally. She would turn over and whack me in the head with the back of her hand.

I was tempted to push her onto the floor and tell her to knock it off or get out, but I know she has an exam this morning and needed her solid nine hours of sleep.

The last thing I need is for her to come home freaking out about getting a B+ on her exam instead of the A she deserves. Chances are, if she comes home with anything less than A, I'm going to catch shit for it regardless.

She'll blame me for all of her problems like always.

Except this time, maybe it was my fault.

"Derek!" I hear someone call my name. I pause mid step to look back, fighting the urge to roll my eyes when I see the girl bouncing my way.

"Sarah!" I say, forcing a smile that I don't feel. "What's up?"

"What's up?" she repeats my question, and I can hear the anger in her voice. "We were supposed to go out on Saturday night, but you never showed. I tried calling and texting you yesterday, but I kept getting your voicemail. Where were you?"

You have got to be kidding me.

The last thing I need this morning is an interrogation from some chick I had met through a hockey buddy. She was his leftovers, has a huge chest that was bought for with daddy's money, and her personality left little to be desired. I asked her out after a few beers on Wednesday. I haven't talked to her since.

"Something came up," I say, my smile gone entirely. I start inching my way back towards the building, hoping to make a quick escape. "I need to get to class."

No such luck. She immediately begins to follow.

"Something came up? And you couldn't even bother to call and tell me that 'something came up?"

I give a heavy sigh, rubbing my forehead before speaking. "Listen, Sarah…I…"

She's looking at me like I owe her a damn explanation. I don't owe her shit. Sure, I promised her a date. But let's be honest. It was never going to be more than one date, anyway. Ever since high school ended, I rarely go out with the same girl more than once.

"You what?" she eggs on, folding her arms across her large chest, bouncing her fancy high heels up and down.

Wow.

"I met someone," I blurt out, raising my eyebrows at the brilliant thought that popped into my head.

"You what?" she asks again, only this time much quieter and severely bummed.

"Met someone," I repeat. "I…I didn't call you because I didn't think it would be fair to my – girlfriend – if I talked to you. I'm sorry. I should have called to tell you."

"But you're Derek Venturi," she says with a small laughing, looking confused as hell. "You don't do girlfriends."

At her observation, I fold my arms and am now the one to turn a confused stare down at her. "And how would you know that?"

"Um…Shawn, of course," she says bringing up the guy who introduced us. "Not to mention, Queens isn't that big. I've obviously heard about you."

Of course.

"Listen, Sarah. I really do have to get to class," I say earnestly, walking backwards. "I'll see ya later."

"Wait!" she says once more, and I'm not sure how much longer I will be able to feign politeness. "There's a party this Friday night at Shawn's frat house; one last get together before spring break. Maybe you and your – girlfriend," she says, stumbling over the world girlfriend, "would like to come?"

"I don't think so…" I say, starting to feel like my back is against the wall. I'm Derek Venturi. I don't turn down parties. People are going to know something is up.

"Come on," she urges, shoving me on the arm. "It'll be fun. And I'd love to meet the girl that captured you…so quickly."

She finishes with a giggle, but I can tell that she's dying on the inside. I could say yes. However, the hockey team knows that Casey is my step-sister. I've had them over a few times in the past for a beer, much to Casey's annoyance.

And once they started eyeing the hell out of her, I never had them over again.

Talk about embarrassing, though.

They'll think I couldn't do any better than incest. But it isn't incest. Not by a long shot. I can just imagine the sick jokes, though.

"Sure," I say before my brain can fully catch up. "Sounds like fun."

And that was that.

Now I just have to convince Casey to come to a party with me as my girlfriend.

There's no way we can say 'wife' without having to explain that one.