“Allie,” I try, hoping that my use of her nickname will buy me some points. It doesn’t. She stomps over to the bed and pulls off a pillow and the down comforter. Throwing them both down onto the ground, she snarls, “You’re in my bed.”
I sigh and stand up. “I shouldn’t have?—”
“Don’t,” she snaps as she fixes her makeshift bed in front of the fireplace, slapping her pillow to fluff it up…or murder it. It could go either way at this point.
“You can have the bed,” I say softly. I was always going to give it to her. Despite my earlier insistence on not giving her the easy way out, I never actually wanted her to be uncomfortable.
“Don’t want it,” she says in a flat tone, now lying down on the floor, her dark hair splayed out around the white pillow.
“You’re going to sleep already? It’s only eight-thirty.”
“Yep.”
Her tone is clipped, and all I can do is nod my head. She clearly needs space, so I give it to her and head to the bathroom.As I splash water on my flushed cheeks, I notice my heavy-lidded eyes reflecting back at me in the mirror. I didn’t drink that much, but coupled with my overall exhaustion from the day, I feel like every drop went straight to my head. I strip down to my boxer briefs, then rifle through the vanity pack the hotel provided and pull out a toothbrush. After brushing my teeth, I contemplate taking a shower for half a second. The glass door to the shower is still wet from when Allie used it, small rivulets of water slowly making their way down and pooling on the tiled floor. I can’t help but imagine her in there, water spraying over her hair and chest, sliding down her body in a thick stream…
Deciding against the shower, I walk back into the room where Allie appears to be sleeping. Her hair is still fanned out around her, some of the dark strands moving in time with the steady rise and fall of her chest. I grab a pillow from the bed and an extra blanket from the closet, setting them down on the floor next to her but not too close. As soon as I’m settled, I hear her roll over and let out a gasp.
“What the fuck are you doing?” she asks, her voice raspy from sleep.
“I told you. You can have the bed.”
“I told you I don’t want it.” She sits up and leans her head against her elbow.
“I’m not sleeping in the bed, Allie. I’ll be here on the floor either way, so you might as well take it.”
She lets out a muffled scream into the pillow before slamming her head back down on it. “You’re insufferable. You know that?”
“Actually, I’ve been told I’m a delight.”
“You’re naked!” she shrieks.
“No more than you are.”
“I’m wearing a shirt!”
When I don’t respond, she goes on. “I’m not sleeping in thebed, either. You won it fair and square, and I don’t back out of deals.”
“Of course you don’t.” God, she’s so stubborn. “I’m still not going anywhere, though.” I adjust the pillow supporting my head. The floor isn’t actually all that bad. The carpet is plush, and the heat from the fireplace is nice and toasty.
Allie lets out another exasperated groan and flops herself around so she’s facing away from me. It’s quiet for a few moments, just the sound of our combined breathing filling the room. It’s peaceful, even, with the moonlight flooding in through the crack in the curtains.
Then I sneeze. Once. Twice. By the fifth time, Allie shoots up and glares daggers at me.
“What in the actual fuck, Ashton?”
I glance down at the blanket covering my body. Shit, it’s wool. I quickly rip it off and toss it to the side. “I think the words you’re looking for are ‘bless you’…and also I think I’m allergic to this blanket.”
“You have to be kidding me.”
“Any chance you would be willing to switch?”
She looks over at the blanket in disgust. “You want me to sleep under that scratchy wool shit? Nope.”
I look longingly at the fluffy white down comforter that’s covering Allie. It’s large enough that there is more than enough for us to share. Allie catches me gawking and lets out a strained sigh as she scoots a sliver of the blanket over to me. “Stay on your side, Rich Boy. I swear to God, if you so much as touch a hair on my head, I will lose it.”
I hold my hands up in surrender. “I promise. I won’t touch you.” She glares but gives me a little more of the blanket before throwing her head back on the pillow again.
“Night, Rich Boy,” she yawns, wiggling her hips to get comfortable.
