Cozy. Private. A porthole window winked in the dark.
John stood in the doorway, staring at the bed like it held answers to unvoiced questions. Then he dragged a hand through his curls, smoothing the duvet and fetching a spare comforter from a built-in wardrobe. He laid it across the foot of the bed—methodical, careful, avoiding my eyes the whole time.
All while I stood in his doorway, in his oversized shirt, like an un-kissed idiot.
“I hope this is alright.”
Our gazes didn’t meet until he was outside of his door, looking back at me.
“Well. Sleep tight,” I said, idiotically kicking myself over the dumbest words the universe had ever heard.?Sleep tight?
John just nodded once. Then gently closed the door.
I dropped onto the mattress, skin burning, thoughts spinning.
And I knew—without question—I wasn’t getting a single second of sleep tonight.
Chapter Twenty-Three
A gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell.
It can’t possibly be a bad idea.
He’s the Buffy to my Willow.
John’s cat woke me by landing with a thump on my stomach, purring.
I rubbed my face, surprised I’d managed to fall asleep at all. The light stung my eyes. And then it all came rushing back.
Stalking John and his movie-star fiancée.
Plunging into a freezing lake.
Cashmere shirts.
Pizza.
Movies.
And...almost kisses.
Oh god.
I’d nearly kissed New York Times bestselling author John Kater. And worse—he’d stopped me. That was the part I couldn’t recover from. Not the nearly making out thingy. The rejection.
The bedroom door was cracked open, like someone had peeked in. But the houseboat was silent.
I buried my face into the pillow, breathing in his scent. That woodsy, expensive, distinctly John smell. It filled me with a longing so fierce, it practically vibrated under my skin.
But I had to shake it off. This…wanting. I had a slip up, that was all.
This wasn’t like me.
Sure, I flirted. I drank. I made out with cute strangers on questionable sofas. But I didn’tcatch feelings. Not like this.
It had been a lapse in judgement. A moment of weakness thatJohn—with his perfect timing and infuriating restraint—had seen coming a mile away. Honestly, I should thank him for stopping it. For not letting it happen.
Queequeg leapt off the bed and padded into the hallway, meowing like he was announcing me to the world.
