There’s a difference between dating someone I meet at a bar and become infatuated with and telling my parents that I’ve been sleeping in the same bed as Theo.
I flop out of bed, realize I’m only in my tank top and panties, squeak, and lunge for the neatly folded pajama shorts I left on the nightstand. “Turn around.”
“Seen naked women before, Laney.”
“Turn. Around.”
You know what’s most aggravating about Theo Monroe?
When we both surfaced in the pool, he was wearing the biggest grin known to man. I remember that from high school. He wasalwayssmiling. He was always having fun. Even when he was in trouble, he’d find a reason to smile about it. Clearly still does. Which must be really nice.
But he never smiles at me.
Not then.
And only briefly today before he realized my job here is to make him miserable.
Or at least, that’s how I assume he classifies my task of being a buffer between him and Chandler.
I hide behind the bed and yank my pajama shorts on. “I am doing myvery damn bestto make the most of this situation. Would it utterly kill you to acknowledge that I’m doing your sister a favor, andyou toofor that matter? That I’m not trying to make your life hell? Is it that hard to be as pleasant as you can be about this too?”
He doesn’t answer, and instead, flings himself onto the left side of the bed, face down in the pillow, and mutters something.
I take a deep breath and sigh loudly out of my nose.
He mutters something else in his pillow.
Forget this.
I march out to the living room. If I can’t sleep, I might as well sleep on the couch.
He’s left the folded bedframe half out of the couch, sticking up at a weird angle.
I roll my eyes and tug on the bar at the top, but it doesn’t budge.
I tug harder.
Still not a bit of movement. “C’mon. You can do it. Good couch,” I murmur supportively.
Shockingly, that doesn’t work either.
I tug. I pull. I try different bars on the contraption. I push. I tug and pull and heft all of my weight into it, but the only thing I succeed in doing is making the couch thump and bump across the floor.
And now I’m sweating.
I eyeball the closed bedroom door for the second bedroom.
Something hisses inside.
So that’s anope. And also a problem for tomorrow.
I can’t get the couch fully open into the hide-a-bed, or fully closed so I can sleep on it. I don’t have the tools to take the hinges apart and investigate this further.
And I need to sleep so that I can be on top of my game for doing everything in my power to keep Theo separated from Chandler for the next few days, which is honestly obnoxious when I consider that I’m positive they were friends in high school.
Crap.
Dammit.
