I keep my voice low for only her to hear. “You can’t do that because you’re uncomfortable with it, or you can’t do it because you’re worried someone might find out?”
She doesn’t respond, but she looks up at me, making eye contact and silently telling me her answer.
“No one will find out, Reese. Everyone is in their room asleep, and you can have the bed. Besides, if I were you, more than anything, I’d be more concerned that someone might catch you in this outfit.”
She exhales a laugh, and I watch as her walls retreat just a hair.
I turn to the staff member. “Can you have a rollaway bed sent up for me, please?”
He offers me a sheepish smile. “They’re all being used tonight, unfortunately.”
“Of course they are.”
I look to Reese, letting her be the one to make the final call on this.
“We’ll figure it out,” she says, completely defeated. “Let’s just go. I’m exhausted.”
I hold up the two water bottles, one unopened and one nearly empty for the clerk to add them to my room charge.
“Those are on the house,” he says.
“Should be. Making me share a room with this one and all.”
Reese just shakes her head at me, but I see the smile playing on her lips as she turns toward the elevator. “I’m going to be real freaking pissed if you end up being a snorer.”
12
Reese
I made a quick detour to my room, deciding I’d rather not sleep in my blazer tonight, swapping into a matching pajama set instead.
And no, the matching set has nothing to do with the fact that I’m going to be sleeping in Emmett’s bed tonight. I wear a pajama set every night, whether someone is going to see me in it or not.
The chill in my room hasn’t let up and the silk fabric on my sleepwear has only made it worse, so I grab the spare blanket off the bed and wrap it around me like a cape for the short walk down to Emmett’s room. But the blanket is also freezing just from being folded on the bed directly under the AC unit, so it does absolutely nothing to help the bone-chilling cold that I can’t seem to shake from my body.
“Cute slippers,” Emmett says from down the hallway, leaning a shoulder into his door to keep it slightly cracked.
“Get fucked.”
He bursts a laugh and it’s just about the only sound I don’t seem to hate at three in the morning.
I don’t do well without sleep. In fact, I’m kind of a terror without it. And yeah, maybe that makes me high maintenance, but I don’t see anything wrong with being high maintenance when I’m the one taking care of the maintaining.
I pay to get my nails done every two weeks. I pay to get my hair cut and colored every six. And yes, I require eight hours of sleepevery night. If those things make me high maintenance, then fuck it. I love being high maintenance.
Emmett steps into his room as I approach, holding the door open for me to enter too.
Once I’m inside, the first thing I notice is the change in temperature from my own. It’s distinctively warmer, thank God.
Then I note the lack of light. His room is dim, with only the glow from a single lamp on the nightstand to illuminate a path toward the bed.
It gives off an...intimatevibe, but I really wish it wouldn’t.
His bed is unmade. His reading glasses are on the nightstand. His suitcase is propped up on a stand, unzipped and open, giving me a sneak peek of the clothes I might see him in this week.
But as his boss, I should never know what he packed in his suitcase. I should never see his unmade bed or know which side he prefers to sleep on.
I would catch so much heat from my grandfather, the advisory board, and the press if anyone found out that I slept in my employee’s hotel room.
