“Uncle Gino’s kids are coming, so all the guest rooms will be full. So you have to share,” Aurora tells us.
“Go on and show her up,” Frank orders him.
Graham takes my bags, and we slowly make our way up the grand staircase under the eyes of his family.
“I think I’m going to puke.” I gag when we’re down the hallway with all the bedrooms.
“Do not puke on me, Dani,” he warns me, opening up a door at the end of the hallway.
“Oh my god,” I wail.
Graham claps a hand over my mouth. “Dani, you’re being too loud.”
“This room is a closet,” I hiss at him. “There is a tiny bed, like a twin bed.”
“It’s a double.”
“No, a double bed is huge. My parents have a double bed.”
“Your parents probably have a queen bed.”
“This is a miniscule bed. I’m not sharing that with you.” I take deep breaths. “It’ll be fine. I’m just going to sleep in the bathroom.”
“You have to sleep with me,” he says, his voice urgent. “Frank’s going to check.”
“I’m not having sex with you!” I shriek.
“Dani!” He puts a finger over his lips. “You’re going to screw me over. We are not having sex. We are simply going to sleep in the same bed.”
“It’s a toddler bed.”
“God, I never should have come here.” He sits down on the bed and drops his head in his hands. “I should have just taken you to Paris.”
“You know, your go-to can’t be kidnapping people whenever you’re feeling emotionally unstable.”
He’s up, his height and bulk suddenly alarmingly huge in the tiny bedroom. He shoves me against the wall. My teeth rattle and so do the little knickknacks on the shelf above the bed.
His mouth is almost hovering over mine. “Shut the fuck up. I’m not going to tell you again.”
“Knock, knock!” His mom doesn’t even give us a chance to say “come in” before she swings the door open.
Graham glances down, realizes what it looks like, and steps back, releasing me.
“We are not having sex,” I say to assure his mother. “Right now. In your house. Of course we generally, as a rule, have sex, because I’m not a virgin. As a woman of my advanced age, that would be—”
“Dani needs to sleep off all that rum,” Graham interrupts me.
“Yes. Sleep it off. In the bed. With my boyfriend. Together.” I grab a fistful of his ass.
He hisses out a breath.
“All right. I just wanted to know if you liked French toast. I never asked if you had any allergies.” Aurora smiles.
“Love it. Fried bread and me are old friends,” I promise.
“All right. Sleep tight.”
“What is your problem?” Graham’s furious when the door closes.
