Page 84 of Colliding with Ten

Five minutes later, she was screaming, grabbing a nearby pillow, and flinching so hard her knee jerked.

“Reflex,” she said, lying back. “Total reflex.”

I fought a grin. “Sure.”

She narrowed her eyes at me, daring, but the corners of her mouth gave her away. The next time a loud bang came from the screen, she muttered under her breath. It sounded like a prayer, and I lost it, laughing until she hit me with a couch pillow.

She bit her lip to keep from smiling. “Not funny.”

“It’s a little funny.”

“Okay. I take it back. This movie’s evil. Let’s order food before I pass out.”

I reached for the room service menu. “What do you want?”

She didn’t hesitate. “Smash burger. Extra pickles and extra sweet potato fries. And a chocolate milkshake if they have one.”

I nodded, amused.

“And you?”

“Steak. Medium rare with potatoes.”

She leaned back, smiling as I ordered for both of us. Every time she smiled, my tension eased.

When the knock came 40 minutes later, I opened the door. Room service rolled in a tray with two covered plates, silverware, a milkshake, and my sparkling water.

We ate while the movie played. Soon every shadow looked suspicious, and every loud sound made Ayla crawl closer. She pretended to be brave, chewing fries like she didn’t care, but her shoulders stayed tense.

Then Jason lunged out of the water. She screamed, and half a handful of fries catapulted off her plate. Wide-eyed with her chest heaving, she realized what had just happened. I laughed.

“Don’t laugh. I was invested in those fries.”

“Here, I’ll help you so you don’t lose any more to the floor.”

She narrowed her eyes as I plucked a fry from her plate. Her mouth fell open. “You did not just steal from the injured.”

I bit into it. “I did.”

She smacked my arm with a napkin, trying to look outraged, but she was laughing as I stole another fry. “Fine. But if you steal one more, I’m biting your hand.”

Those words conjured reckless images of her biting my fingers and licking the salt from them. Before it got out of control, I stopped the intrusive thoughts.

“You’ve got terrible survival instincts, Callahan.”

She threw a fry at me, and I caught it in my mouth, chewing it with a chuckle. We were much closer on the couch now. Sitting inches from her, I had to tell my damn hand to stay put, the urge to hold her strong.

“Okay.” She gripped a pillow. “Serious question.”

I looked down at her. “Ah-huh.”

“Are you ever afraid of anything?”

I didn’t even have to think. “No. Not really.”

She tilted her head, like she didn’t buy that answer. “Nothing? Monsters? No irrational fears?”

I shook my head. “Nope.”