Colt grabs both of our suitcases as I lead the way up the stairs, pausing at our door with one last desperate look down the hall before sliding the key into the hole.
I take a few steps into the room and stop short. Colton runs into me, steading himself with a hand on my hip, which only makes my already racing heart gallop faster.
Because right there, in the middle of this old Italian hotel room, is one. Tiny. Full. Bed.
“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” Colton mutters.
I turn to get a 360 view of the room, praying for another bed.All I find is a love seat against the wall, too small for even my short body.
We’re fucked.
I face Colton, hoping to read his thoughts on his face. We stare at each other for what feels like days without speaking until he finally opens his mouth. Every muscle in my body tightens in anticipation, but no words come out.
Instead, Colton lets out a giant, booming laugh. He bends at the waist, hands on his knees as he struggles to get control of himself.
I walk over and smack him on the back with my purse. “This. Is. Not. Funny.”
He straightens but is still trying to force in breaths between his laughter. “It kind of is. You’re horrified, and that’s the smallest bed I’ve ever seen.”
I tilt my chin imperiously. “The heroes in my romance novels would offer to sleep on the floor.”
“Then the heroes in your romance novels are dumbasses.”
“Can’t be that dumb. They get laid because they’re gentlemen.”
Colton stops laughing then, though the devious glint doesn’t leave his eyes. “Chaos, are you trying to act out one of your romance novels?”
I sputter. “No! Obviously not.”
He crosses his arms over his chest and his biceps bulge. I hate them. I want to bite them. “Because it kind of sounded like you were propositioning me.”
I groan. “You’re so evil! You know that’s not what I meant, but you like watching me squirm.” I look at the bed again and feel a spike of adrenaline. I start pacing the too-small hotel room. “It’s just a really small bed and you’re not a really small guy and I take up plenty of room too and then there’s the whole… you know, and now we’re going to be stuffed into this bed and we have this new history, which I know is oxymoronic, and?—”
“Quinn. Stop.” He grabs both of my shoulders. “We’ll be fine.We’ve shared a bed before and it wasn’t a big deal. Yes, we hooked up, but we agreed to stop. You know I’m not going to try anything when you said no.”
He thinks I’m worried he’s going to push for something to happen? Of course, he wouldn’t do that. I’m worried about whatI’lldo.
It all feels too charged. Every glance at his strong profile or every smile I earn. The mouthwatering way he rolls up his sleeves while lecturing. Those. Damn. Biceps. And worst of all, it’s totally one sided. Yes, he admitted his attraction from college. And yes, he’s still attracted to me by his own admission. But there’s been nothing since. No heated stares or glances at my lips or longing looks when he thinks I’m not watching. And I’m always watching. Why is it so easy for him to pretend like nothing happened?
It’s unfair to be annoyed with him for respecting my boundaries. If he were the type of guy who would push for something not offered to him, he’d never have become my best friend in the first place. I just wish it were as easy for me as it is for him.
I force a smile. “Of course I trust you. It’s not that. It’s just a weird situation.”
He drops a chaste kiss to my forehead, the same quick, friendly kiss he’s given me our entire friendship, and my whole body heats in response. Why am I like this?
I try not to think about that bed while leading the students to our group dinner.
I focus on anything but that small space while students chat me up about their internship experiences.
I ignore the fact that Colt is on the other side of the door while I get ready for bed, shimmying into my too-short sleep shorts and tank top.
Colton’s already on his side of the bed when I come out, and I slip under the blanket.
We both lie on our backs, legs perfectly straight and arms at our sides, like two corpses laid out for burial preparation.
Colt clears his throat. “Well, good night.”
“Yep. Good night.”
