"Wow," I say, dropping my duffle on a bench at the foot of the bed. "This is..."
"Yup." Charlie sets her suitcase beside a spacious dresser. "Wait till you see the bathroom."
I peer through the door she indicates and feel my eyebrows shoot up. The bathroom stretches before me, marble gleaming under recessed lighting. A deep soaking tub nestles beneath a window framed by gauzy curtains, while steam could practically billow through a glass-walled shower spacious enough to host a small party. My reflection bounces back from dual sinks embedded in a marble vanity that spans an entire wall, its surface dotted with high-end toiletries.
"This is insane," I laugh, shaking my head as I wander back into the bedroom. "How long did you say your family's been doing this trip?"
"Since before Em and I were born.” She says, perched on the edge of the bed. "So, more than thirty years. It used to be just a long weekend, but it's grown over time."
A beat of silence falls between us, and suddenly the elephant in the room—or more specifically, the bed in the room—becomes impossible to ignore.
Charlie clears her throat. "So, about sleeping arrangements..."
"I can take the floor," I offer immediately. "Or that couch by the window looks comfortable."
"Don't be ridiculous," she says, though I notice she won't quite meet my eyes. "The bed is enormous. We can just... stay on our sides. Like adults."
"Are you sure? I could probably snag some extra pillows and make a barrier down the middle. A DMZ for bedtime."
That gets a laugh out of her. "I think we can manage without turning the bed into the 38th parallel." She stands, running fingers through her hair. "I really need a shower. I always feel gross after flying."
"Want company?" The words slip out before I can stop them, accompanied by my most charming grin.
Charlie fixes me with a deadpan stare, but I catch the slight twitch at the corner of her mouth. "You're pushing your luck, Montgomery."
"Worth a shot." I shrug, sitting down on the bed as she grabs her toiletry bag from her suitcase.
"I'll be quick," she says, disappearing into the bathroom.
A few minutes later, I hear the shower running, and a crack of the door lets out a cloud of steam carrying the unmistakable scent of her shampoo. The familiar smell hits me with surprising force—it's the same scent that hit me while we were dancing, the same scent I woke up tothat morning.The morning I panicked.
I shake off the memory and busy myself with unpacking, trying not to think about Charlie naked in that massive shower just a few feet away.
"So," her voice comes through the partially open door, raised slightly over the sound of running water. "About tonight."
"What about it?" I call back, hanging one of my shirts in the closet.
"I should warn you about Ethan."
"Why? He's the one whose heart I'm going to fictitiously break by being so much better than him in every way."
The water shuts off. "Well, he can be... challenging."
"How so?"
"He's smart. Observant. And he has this way of making little comments that get under your skin without seeming outright rude." There's a pause, and I hear the sounds of a towel being unfurled. "Just don't let him bait you, okay?"
"Shortcake, I spent fifteen years with reporters trying to make me say something stupid after competitions. I think I can handle one finance bro."
"He's not just—" She stops. "Never mind. Just be prepared."
The bathroom door opens before I can respond, and my brain short-circuits.
She stands in the doorway wrapped in nothing but a fluffy white towel, another smaller one turbaned around her hair. Droplets of water still cling to her shoulders and collarbone, and her face is completely bare of makeup, slightly flushed from the heat of the shower.
"Holy shit," I murmur, the words escaping involuntarily.
She frowns. "What?" As she pats her face.
