I hang up. I’m not giving him a chance to respond.
When I get back inside, Harper has dinner cleaned up and is looking for something in the minibar.
“You didn’t have to do the dishes,” I tell her, shoving my phone back into my pocket.
“You cooked,” she says, and there’s an awkward moment between us. It all sounds so domestic.
“Anything good?” I nod at the liquor selection.
“Most of it is local. Brands I haven’t even heard of before,” she answers, and I walk over to stand next to her.
“A lot of rum,” I note.
“Yeah,” she half smiles, but it disappears as her eyes seemingly involuntarily graze my bare chest again. “Do you always walk around without a shirt on?” She asks, purposely putting space between us.
“Usually I don’t have pants on either, but I figured that would be inappropriate,” I tease.
“That remark is inappropriate,” she says.
I know I shouldn’t ask, but I have to know why she is acting so uncomfortable seeing me shirtless. “Am I the first man you’ve seen naked?”
“In person,” she answers, and then looks mortified that she did.
“You watch porn?” I ask arching one eyebrow.
“Of course not! I do read romance--”
“Ah! So youreadporn,” I say, delighted with myself at how clever I am.
“It’s not porn,” she argues, making her way to the bedroom.
I follow. “Whatever gets you excited at the end of the day.”
“It doesnotget me excited,” she argues as she violently fluffs the pillows.
If I didn’t know any better, I’d say she is getting excited right now.
“I’m tired,” she says. “I’m going to bed. The sooner we go to sleep, the sooner we can get out of here.”
“Fair enough,” I say, turning the other side of the bed down.
“What do you think you’re doing?” she demands.
“Going to bed. Like you said.”
Harper laughs. “We are not sleeping in the same bed, Ash.”
“I don’t know if you remember pointing it out earlier, princess, but there’s only one bed. Hey, isn’t that a romance trope?”
She doesn’t find it funny at all. “I’m not sleeping with you.”
“I’m not insinuating that you sleep with me. I’m insinuating that you sleepnextto me. It’s a California King, and you’re like three feet tall. I’m sure we’ll fit.”
“And I’m sure you’ll fit on the couch,” she says, and I laugh.
Until I realize she’s serious.
I study her for a moment, knowing that this is going to be a fight. A fight neither of us has the energy for, so I grab a pillow and a blanket and go to the living room.
