The boys proceed to wrestle in front of their room door, desperate to be the first to open it.
I stare at the mayhem before me, thanking the universe for the lone bed and night of silence awaiting me on the other side of my door. For a millisecond, I forget about Malcolm’s back problems and the fact that him sleeping on the floor will set this entire week on a path of a grumpier Mr. Geer, if that is even possible.
I can’t let him suffer like that.
Malcolm has slept at my house before, on the couch, but still. I could hear his light snoring through my thin walls. It’s not like this is completely uncharted territory. Why is sharing a hotel room with him freaking me out so much? There’s enough space to navigate each other and avoid all awkwardness. There are two beds, and we can survive sharing a bathroom.
It’s fine.
The suite door down the hall swings open and slams into the wall as the guys forcefully wedge themselves through the space. The door slams shut with a loud bang,brosanddudeshollered behind the closed door.
“You can’t stay in there. Listen to them.” I gape down the hall, grateful to be in charge of the quiet girls two doors down.
“It’s fine. I’ve slept through worse.” He gives me a wink, hoisting his duffel bag over his shoulder as he goes to walk away.
Grabbing his hand, I plead, “Don’t.”
Malcolm eyes me, the blue of them glistening under the fluorescent hallway lights, his wheels clearly turning as he ponders his decision before shoving his hands in his pockets. He lets out a slow breath and asks, “Are you sure you’re comfortable with it? Because the last thing I want is to make you feel uncomfortable.”
Needing to convince myself more than him, I shrug aggressively and say, “We’re adults. It’ll be fine.” I playfully swat his arm, and his shoulders relax at the act.
It will be fine, Kate.
“Just stay with me.”
Chapter ten
Malcolm
Just stay with me.
If it were possible for Kate’s words to hit me like a truck, it would be those.
The words replay in my head like a damn symphony as I make my way back down to the lobby. I just need to breathe for a second. The effect this woman has on me is downright ridiculous, and four little words have rendered me a stuttering idiot in the hallway. And the fact that we’re sharing a room now has my blood pressure almost at a stroke level. This place is pretty much a resort, so I should be relaxed. I should be as relaxed as the guy in the Hawaiian shirt sitting at the bar sipping his drink with a little umbrella in it. But nope. I am feeling the most on edge I’ve felt in months. Maybe even years. I knew getting out of the friend zone wasn’t going to be easy, but I didn’t expect the universe to throw us in the same room on day one.
“Hello, Mr. Geer! How can I help you?” Benny’s voice comes from the other line after one ring. He’s clearly still at the school or he wouldn’t sound so professional.
“We have a problem.” I pace back and forth in the hotel lobby, working through the breathing exercises my therapist gave me.
I hear movement on the other line, then my phone jingles with his incoming FaceTime. I click it on and see Benny’s and Ellie’s faces fighting for room on my screen.
Watching their faces practically melt together does something to my heart. Most days, I’d rather get run over by a train than watch them act like a couple. Some call it adorable. I call it nauseating. It makes me want to burn down an entire Christmas tree farm. But on the rare occasion I don’t get annoyed by their sickening infatuation with each other, I actually do feel happy for them.
“What happened?” Ellie asks, her face full of worry.
One last breath out and I feel better. My instincts have me checking over my shoulder before speaking.This isn’t a war zone, Geer. Just chill out. I smooth out my beard and say under my breath, “We’re sharing a room.”
“WHAT?!” the squished heads yell at the same time.
“What happened to the reservation?” Benny’s face is calculating. He’s clearly thinking of all the scenarios that could happen if two of his faculty membersshare a room.I don’t blame him. After what happened last term with him almost losing his job, he’s been a headache about school policies.
“Bill messed it up.”
“Freaking Bill,” Benny mumbles. “Will you—”
“I will be professional,” I interject, already aware of his concerns. “No funny business, Ben.”
“I know, I know. I just mean—”
