My vision clears at his question. Somehow, the ten-minute drive to the Prescott Hotel is already over, I crawled out of the Nissan, and now I’m standing in front of the elevator.
“Doesn’t matter. You’re not walking me to my room.”
Cade repeatedly jabs his finger into the already lit button. “What kind of man would I be if I didn’t make sure you get there safely?”
“Aclient.” I put an extra foot of space between us. “How much did you drink tonight?”
Fingers formed into a circle, he holds up his hand. “None.”
“You didn’t have a single drink tonight? Not even the celebratory champagne?”
“Nope,” he says, popping the P. “I’m stone-cold sober.”
And then, god help me, he decides to prove it. Holding his arms out like he’s about to take flight, he walks to the other side of the hall without swaying.
Heel. Toe. Heel. Toe. Heel. Toe.
“And look. I can say the alphabet backward. Z, y, x, w, v, u, t, s, r, q. Then it’s my least favorite. P on MLK. J, i, h, g, f, e, d…”
I look around, thankful we’re alone. “How are you doing this?”
“C. B. A!” He twists around with his hands still in the air. “Done!”
After he has bowed multiple times, I hold up my hands. “Fine, I believe you’re sober, but our rules must mean nothing to you if you’re flirting with me in public.”
His hand disappears into his pocket. The hopeful part of me wonders if my dice are clacking around in there.
“They are important, but I’m struggling tonight, if you can’t tell.”
Tonight isn’t easy for me either. I also didn’t have a single drink, which means I can’t blame alcohol for why I feel so pulled to him in this moment.
If I’m being honest, in every moment for the last few weeks.
As the doors slide open, I tear my eyes from him to look at the elevator.
“Going back up?” I ask when no one steps out.
“Yeah,” a woman in a Wheezer shirt answers. “Pressed the wrong button for the pool. Y’all coming?”
Squeezing into an elevator with what looks like a family reunion isn’t my vibe, so I shake my head. “All good. I’ll catch the next—” I start, but I’m yanked forward by my front belt loop.
“Nonsense!” Cade laughs, walking backward. “Who knows when the next one will come. We need to get you to bed.”
“I will strangle you,” I hiss, but I let him pull me inside.
Cramped as it is, we both manage to fit, pushing through until we’re in the very back. Years ago, if we had been caught in this predicament, thiscloseness would’ve been greatly appreciated. Cade’s hand would have been spread across my stomach to keep me close, with his lips tracing my collarbones.
That can’t happen though. It’s not allowed.
“Seventeenth floor, please,” I rasp out, thankful someone hears me and clicks the button.
On the third floor, the doors slide open, but nobody exits. Instead, my ass is jammed even harder against the solid body behind me as more people pile in. This has to be a safety hazard, but I can’t seem to care when Cade’s heart is beating erratically against my back and I’m touching the man I set a rule to not touch.
“Fuck,” he mutters, stretching the word into two distinct syllables.
His finger grazes a sliver of bare skin on my lower back, and a jolt of electricity runs down my spine. He’s barely touching me, yet I feel more than I have in years.
At the tenth floor, the rambunctious family reunion steps out and heads for the pool. It’s such a relief when the woman in front of me removes her backpack from my chest, but I still can’t breathe. Not with Cade behind me.
