Grayson smooths a hand up the entire length of my back and through the mess of my hair, giving my nape a steadying squeeze. I suck in a breath and rock back on my heels, settling into the surprising hold. He makes no move to release me. Even when his voice drifts through the room and the door clicks shut, he keeps his hand right where it is.
“It’s fine. I assumed there would only be one bed, considering your mother booked the room for you and your boyfriend. There’s a couch I can sleep on.”
I scrunch my brows. “You’re not sleeping on the couch.”
“I’m not going to overstep your boundaries here. No one is going to sneak into our room to see if we’re sleeping together or apart, Jill.”
“That’s not—” I cut myself off, twisting the front of my skirt in my fingers. “You’re doing me a huge favour being here. I’m not going to repay you by making you sleep on a couch that you won’t fit on.”
He twists, fixing me beneath an amused stare. “I can scrunch.”
“Right. You’re what, six foot four?”
“Nearly. A bit over six three.”
“See? There’s noscrunchingthat’s going to make you fit on that thing. Just sleep in the bed with me, Gray.”
He keeps me trapped beneath the weight of those green eyes before nodding and lifting them. The bags he’s hauled in with him fall to the dresser before he goes to the bed and starts pulling back the sheets. He bears the corner of the mattress and stares at it for a moment before tucking everything back in place.
“There aren’t any bed bugs,” he tells me, noticing that I’m just standing here watching him.
“Damn. If there were, maybe we could have used them as an excuse to get a different room.”
His lips quirk as he moves our bags to the bed and lingers beside it. I finally leave my spot by the door and move further into the room. It’s bigger than I was expecting, which is probably thanks to the singular bed in the middle of it. There’s a small kitchenette with a coffee machine, mini-fridge, and microwave, then a door across from it that must be for the bathroom.
I explore the rest of the suit and tug open the closet door. The garment bag hanging inside of it yanks a sigh from the very pit of my soul. Pinching the zipper, I lower it a few inches and confirm that it’s the bridesmaid dress my sister chose for me months ago.
“Is that your dress?” Grayson asks, appearing behind me.
“Yep.”
“Do you not like it?”
I shake my head and zip it back up. “It’s not that I don’t like it. I just had no opinion on which one was chosen for me, is all.”
When I turn around, I gasp. He’s much closer than I thought he was. Like, way,waycloser. I can smell his cologne like I’ve got my nose to the bottle and see the way his chest expands and forces the fabric of his polo shirt to stretch to accommodate his size. I swallow thickly and press my palms flush to my thighs.
“I’m sure you’ll look beautiful regardless of what you wear,” he murmurs.
My heart skips. “We’ll see tomorrow, won’t we?”
“Mmm, we will.”
“I should . . . shower. Get ready for dinner.”
Don’t look up.
I ignore the voice in my mind and lift my gaze. Smouldering green eyes are waiting. They waste no time before trying to swallow me whole. There’s a heat slithering beneath my skin as we stare at each other. It’s so similar to the flames I felt in the elevator, but there’s no ding to interrupt us this time.
My eyes nearly roll back when he brings an arm up beside my head. Thick, round muscles flex in my peripheral as he shuts the door behind me. It’s almost too much when he lowers his hand and pinches my sweater between two long fingers. It’s slipped down my shoulder, and with one easy movement, he slides it back into place.
The round edge of his nail glides along my skin, over the lifted hair and goosebumps. I press against that subtle touch, wanting more. Something harder, more deliberate. But then he’s stepping back.
I drag in a deep breath that isn’t thick with his presence and reach for my hair, lifting it off my sweaty neck. He wets his lips before looking at me again.
“The bathroom is all yours.”
My first reaction is to tell him that I don’t need it anymore, and shit, that’s alarming. So, instead of giving in to the low ache that’s begun to build between my legs, I nod my head and dart past him, into the dark bathroom.
