Her mind reeled as she thought how hard she’d worked to conceal her feelings for him. The drastic measures she’d taken to cover her tracks lest she make him uncomfortable or ruin their friendship.
Or just embarrass herself. Because that’s what it’d really come down to, hadn’t it? She’d been afraid of looking foolish. And so she hadn’t gone after the one thing she’d wanted most of all.
Tell him, a voice screamed from the back of her head.Tell him that you’ve been head over heels in love with him for years. Tell him right now.Maybe it wasn’t too late to make things right. He’d admitted he was worried about marrying Marigold. Maybe hewanteda reason to call things off.
Natalie took a breath, willing herself to speak, but no sound emerged. Words still escaped her.
Jonathan rose from his chair with a heavy sigh. “I’m gonna try Marigold again. I won’t be able to sleep until I hear her voice and know she’s okay.”
Natalie felt something inside her clatter, a tiny scaffolding of hope she’d never had the right to build in the first place. No one would ever choose her over Marigold. Maybe Jonathan had had a crush on her once, but he would’ve dropped Natalie as soon as he set eyes on her gorgeous, charismatic roommate. Natalie had only accelerated the inevitable by introducing them. Jonathan was never going to be hers.
“?’Night, Bumpy.”
“Good night.”
He lifted his whiskey glass from the table, gave her head an affectionate pat, then left to call the woman he truly loved.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONEOlivia
Olivia took pride in her fearlessness. Or at least, her ability to master fear. When they’d still lived in their old apartment, she’d stomped on cockroaches the size of playing cards while Marigold cowered. She’d stood up to sexist law school professors and taken down some of the city’s most feared litigators. But the thought of knocking on Zack’s door somehow felt more daunting than any of these encounters. Would he really believe that Lulu had given Olivia’s room away? Or would he assume that she’d gotten carried away by their fake-dating scheme and was no longer able to distinguish between reality and fantasy?
Olivia had a spreadsheet with all the guests’ room assignments, but she felt weird about rolling up with no warning. Yet the thought of texting Jonathan and asking for Zack’s phone number at one a.m. was even more mortifying. She had his email address, but there was no guarantee he’d check before bed. She supposed she could drive the golf cart back to the cottage, butthen who would believe that she and Zack were in a relationship? The last thing Lulu needed right now was proof that her older daughter couldn’t hang on to a man for more than twenty-four hours.
Finally, she steeled herself and knocked on Zack’s door. He opened it a few moments later. It didn’t seem like she’d roused him from sleep, though he’d clearly been getting ready for bed. He had on flannel pajama pants but wasn’t wearing a shirt, and it took all of Olivia’s well-developed self-control not to stare. His lanky body had a lot more lean muscle that she would’ve expected, including defined biceps and abs approaching a six-pack. An image flashed into her head of Zack doing weighted sit-ups with a one-thousand-page copy ofDas Kapital.
“Hey,” he said. “Everything okay?”
She explained the conundrum with her aunt’s room and told him about Lulu’s request. “But only if you feel comfortable,” Olivia added quickly. “I can easily find somewhere else to sleep.”Like the front porch. Or maybe the golf cart.
“Yeah, sure, no problem.” He stepped to the side and held the door open for her. He sounded a bit flat. Maybe he had been asleep? Or perhaps he just resented having women he barely knew showing up with their luggage in the middle of the night.
Zack’s room was a bit smaller than hers but decorated similarly, with antique wooden furniture—or excellent reproductions—a scratchy hooked rug under the brass bed, dainty floral wallpaper, and framed nautical prints. But whereas Olivia had been living out of her suitcase, Zack’s belongings were everywhere: a few pair of shoes lined up neatly next to the dresser, a stack of books on the desk, a pile of used workout clothes in a heap next to the bathroom, and a night table covered with all manner ofpill bottles, hand cream, toiletry bag, reading glasses, ChapStick, and tissues. Olivia hadn’t seen anything like the nightstand since she’d last visited her great-grandmother in her nursing home.
“I’ll sleep on the floor,” Olivia said, eyeing the queen-sized bed.
“It’s okay. I can take the floor.”
“That’s ridiculous. It’s your room, and you’re the one doing me a massive favor.”
“You have a big day tomorrow. I just need to avoid getting too drunk to stand during the ceremony.”
“Those sound like my marching orders as well.” Olivia took a throw blanket from the end of Zack’s bed and laid it on the floor. “I’m fine here, I promise. Okay if take a pillow?”
Zack handed her one, along with the quilt. “Use them both. I’ll be fine with just the top sheet. I run hot.”
When it came time to take her sleepwear out of her suitcase, she hesitated. She’d had Andrew in mind when she’d packed her nightgown, a sexy black slip that came to midthigh, but if she were trying to assure Zack that hermy aunt took my roomstory wasn’t a ruse, this outfit wasn’t going to help her case. But the other option would be a T-shirt and underwear, which was objectively worse.
Perhaps she wasn’t as fearless as she’d thought.
She went to the bathroom to brush her teeth and wash her face, then changed into her nightgown. There was no full-length mirror, of course. These old-timey inns never had them. Perhaps it was for historical accuracy. After all, the colonists didn’t have to make sure their nightgowns covered their ass cheeks. In an act of desperation, Olivia stepped onto the toilet and tried to examine her reflection that way. She frowned; it was definitely on the edge of inappropriate, but still her best option.
When she came out of the bathroom, she made a beeline for her makeshift bed, eager to get under the blanket as quickly as possible. “Good night,” she said, avoiding Zack’s eyes. “Thanks again for this.”
“No problem.” He switched off the lamp on the nightstand. For the first few minutes, an unnatural silence filled the room, as though they were each taking care not to move at all. Olivia’s shoulder ached on the hard floor, but she felt weirdly self-conscious rolling over.I would’ve been more comfortable in the golf cart.
“Seems like the plan is working,” Zack said finally.
“What do you mean?” Olivia asked, tensing, convinced that Zack thought she’d concocted a plan to get into his room.
