AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Didn’t we hear once that hate sex is amazing?
Sharing a cabin would be less awkward if we got the sexual tension out of the air, wouldn’t it?
I pinch the bridge of my nose and turn my back to him. I go to the kitchen, get a glass with a shaky hand, and start filling it with water. No, brain. None of those are remotely good questions. We’re not sleeping with him. We’re not kissing him. We’re not even going to tolerate him. And if he keeps it up, he’s going to be lucky if we don’t smother him in his freaking sleep.
“Oh, by the way,” Nolan says from behind me as I chug my water. “Slight problem with those little ground rules of yours.”
“What?” I ask through my teeth.
“Separate rooms? There’s only one bedroom in this cabin.”
4
NOLAN
Mia’s cute when she’s flustered. She’s pacing in a small circle, one arm folded while she gnaws on already-chewed nails. She stops, lifting her palm and shrugging as if she’s decided something. “I’ll sleep on the couch, then.”
I tilt my head in surprise. I expected her to tell me I was riding the couch. “No, you won’t,” I say.
She crosses her arms and we start a silent staring match. It gives me more time than I’d like to study the ways she has and hasn’t changed in two years. Her bright red hair is braided and thrown over one shoulder. A smear of freckles dusts the spaces below her eyes and the bridge of her upturned nose. Big, blue eyes with that same glinting challenge of intellect are locked with mine.
Her pouty lips part to reveal slightly crooked, white teeth. I remember the first time I saw her two years ago–how I thought it made sense somehow that she used to be a figure skater. She has the straight-backed, almost uptight posture of someone with a background in some kind of body control sport, like dancing or gymnastics. Even then, I have to admit part of me found the idea of bending that straight back of hers a little thrilling.
I take a step closer to her. It makes the scent of her fill my nose. It’s not her perfume or her soaps. It’s the scent of her skin I remember–like some kind of irresistible perfume her body pushes through her pores to tempt me.
Think of her like all the other women. Make her like one of them. The small voice whispers in my mind, urging me to do the smart thing. If she’s like the other women, she’ll become boring. Boring isn’t dangerous. Boring doesn’t threaten to derail carefully laid plans.
But she’s not boring, even if I want her to be. And the fact that she meant so much to me in such a short period of time makes the way she ended things piss me off that much more. I even opened up and texted her about my mom to try explaining why I might have been distant, but she didn’t bother responding to that.
All that drive and ambition of hers comes at a cost. I learned that the hard way. Get in the way of Mia and her dreams? Get run the fuck over.
I won’t make that mistake this time. She can either bend and take what I’m offering, or she can regret it.
“Take the bed, Calloway,” I say.
She finally shrugs, raising her eyebrows like it makes no difference to her. “Suit yourself. Saulters. But that couch looks way too small for your ego.”
I grin. She’s teasing me now. That’s an improvement. Teasing and antagonizing each other is as far from our dynamic was two years ago as we can get. The more different it feels, the less it hurts. “I’ll manage,” I say, nodding toward the couch. “I can temporarily deflate my ego, if I have to.”
She yanks her bag up from the floor and stomps into the bedroom before I’ve even finished talking. She slams the door.
I shake my head and run my hands through my hair.
Damn. I can’t even decide if I’m looking forward to seeing how this plays out or dreading it.
Maybe it’s a bit of both.
I open my suitcase, dig out a backpack I’ve stuffed with toiletries, and head to the bathroom. I brush my teeth, take a piss, and then pull off my shirt for bed. I open the door and find Mia standing right outside like she’s been waiting.
She’s wearing a dark gray, oversized t-shirt and either very short shorts, or no pants at all.
My dick twitches, eager to solve the mystery.
“What are you doing?” she asks, eyes falling to my chest, then back up to my eyes. She jerks her head to the side and stares at a spot on the floor as she takes a step back.
“I brushed my teeth then took a piss. Any other questions?”
“Why aren’t you wearing a shirt?” she asks.
