The towel was in his hand.
Oh, cracking hell.
The guy beside him nudged him, and Ash turned to look at me, staring at his masculine perfection.
“You done?” he asked me with a playful smirk.
Screwing my eyes shut, I turned around and left hastily. I needed to transfer colleges; there was no coming back from this humiliation. Humiliation that I brought upon myself.
* * *
It was late when he returned. I had hidden in the suite, refusing to look at the phone. I knew Jett would tell Ava, and I knew Ava would then call me, right after she called an insane asylum. Because I, Mia Celia Davis, had lost the proverbial plot.
Having agonized over the horror of this evening, I didn’t even have a sound reason for acting like a . . . what? Diva? Drama queen?Lunatic?
And had I really asked Ben, the quarterback, out? How bad was it that I didn’t even know his last name?
So, I hid. Ignoring my phone. Ava knew me well. When she finally accepted that I wasn’t answering, she would wait until tomorrow. Sometimes I needed a night alone to process, and Ava knew that. And Iwastrying to process, but I was dreading the momenthewalked into the room.
Curled up on the twin bed, I heard the key in the lock, and I burrowed under the blankets, in the hope he would think I was asleep.
He was as quiet as an elephant on parade. The stumble and then thump were probably his boots being taken off, I surmised. The rustling would be his jacket. I heard him yawn, and I hoped he would realize I was “sleeping.”
“People who are sleeping have a steady even breath, unless they snore.” The amusement in his voice made it worse. “You don’t snore. You make little whimpering sounds but not snoring.”
He didn’t say anything else, and I tried to even out my breath.
“Mom’s an actress, huh?” I heard a belt buckle loosen. “Hate to tell you, Red, you didn’t pick up the acting gene.”
Shut up!I heard the bathroom door close and then running water. The faint electrical buzz let me know he was brushing his teeth. I heard the unmistakable sound of him relieving his bladder and then the faucet again as he washed his hands. Thedoor opened again, and the whole time, I remained under the blankets, pretending to sleep.
More rustling. He was taking his clothes off? I mean, obviously, he needed to change, but last night, he did that in the bathroom. The scraping sound and thumping had me sitting upright to peer at him as he moved the other twin bed over the floor.
“What are you doing?” I would not look at his glorious, uncovered body. He was only wearing boxer briefs, and I would not stare at his body. Again.
“Moving furniture,” Ash replied as he pushed the bed next to mine.
Wordlessly, he lifted the covers on my bed and did the same to his bed. Without another word, he got into bed and fixed the combined blankets around us.
“You can’t sleep beside me.”
“Sure I can. This way the bed’s bigger, and my legs won’t need straightening in the morning.” Ash lay back on the pillow and closed his eyes. “Get the light, will you?”
“Ash!”
“Shh, Red, I want to sleep. It’s been an exciting day for me.” He yawned again. “Staged a coup, had a three-hour practice where I caught every ball, had an after-practice drama production put on just for me, been objectified to the point where I may need to consider a harassment suit—”
“You are so full of crap,” I interrupted him.
He opened his eyes and looked at me. I couldn’t decipher what he was thinking, but his gaze dropped when I ran my hand over my mouth. “Did you get all you needed off your chest?”
“No.”
“Mm-hmm.” Ash closed his eyes again. “Light, Red,” he reminded me.
Turning over, I flicked the side light off before I lay back down again.
The silence stretched between us.
