“You’re inmyroom.” His voice is consuming.
Like one of Tess’s mafia audiobooks, where the narrator makes a reader ache in all the right places.
Lord knows, I’m aching.
“The hostesses were very clear on which room is mine.” The squeak in my voice makes me cringe. “Second door on the right.”
His eyebrow shoots up. “They told me the exact same thing. Funny coincidence, isn’t it?” His tone shifts, sharp and almost accusing. “That we are both standing here, in the ‘right’ room? Or maybe it’s just fate.” He tilts his head, watching me.
The funny part is that he spouts the same nonsense about fate and destiny as the hostess, but his tone drips with mockery.
“I don’t know about fate.” I’m glad my voice doesn’t crack. “They told me which room was mine, I followed directions, and here I am.” I try to straighten, but he’s still holding me.
“Directions, huh?” Is he hard of hearing? “That’s funny.” I doubt it is funny. “Because it appears youchosethis room.”
“I did notchoosethis room.”
“Uh-huh.”
Did his fingers tighten at my hip?
“You just happened to know which door led to my room?” Every word is edged with warning.
“I didn’t know which room was yours.”
I don’t even know who this man is.
“Sure.”
I blink, trying to decipher what he just said.
“Sure?” My word is just as challenging.
“Sure.”
I press my lips together as the accusation really sinks in. “Are you implying that I did know this wasyourroom?”
“I thought that was clear. No hard feelings, but this isn’t happening.”
“No hard feelings?” A scoff finishes my sentence. “Whatever you think was going to happen was never going to happen.”
“Listen, I’m flattered—”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa. I’m not here to—to—”
“Sleep with me?”
“Exactly.”
“Don’t worry. What happens in Cash’s Cave stays in Cash’s Cave.”
I raise my eyebrows, speechless for a moment. And I’m pretty sure my mouth just hit the floor.
“Did you just name your bedroom a cave? And include your name in the title?”
“Catchy, isn’t it?”
I burst into laughter.
