“Five.”
“What?” My hands land on my hips, exasperated by his chillness. Why is he so calm? Why is he always so calm? Nothing bothers him. Nothing phases him. He’s always so put together—unlike me, with a complete storm inside my thoughts.
“I’m six-foot-five, not three.” Mateo smirks, leaning on the wall like he’s a comedian and it’s a prop in his stand-up set. “You’re picturing it now, aren’t you?”
“Picturing what?” I ask, annoyed.
“Me trying to sleep on top of a bunch of pillows.” He chuckles.
Unfortunately, I am.
Unfortunately, he’s shirtless in that mental image for no reason.
I shake my head, trying to physically fling the thought out of my head. “Nope. Not doing this. I’m going to call the desk, and you’re going to—” I point toward the balcony like I’m banishing him to sea, “go look at the ocean or something.”
“She already said there wasn’t another room. It’s fine. I promise. It’s not like we’ve never shared a bed before.”
He’s not wrong. We have. However, it was when we were tiny children, not full grown adults. It was back when the biggest conundrum was whether we would catch fireflies or gnats, not whether I’ll be able to breathe sleeping next to the best friend I’m in love with.
“It’s not the same,” I whisper.
“Why?” He squares his shoulders and lifts an eyebrow, challenging my comment. I wiggle my toes and press my fingertips against each other nervously.
“We were children the last time we shared a bed.”
“And, what? Now I’m the big bad wolf and you’re afraid?”
“No, it’s not that,” I counter quickly. “I don’t know. I’m just nervous, I guess, about the whole thing.”
Mateo’s expression softens as he walks up to me. He holds my hands and smiles. “Why are you nervous, Daisy? It’s me. It’s just me. It’s us, just with an added layer. But if this is too much, we don’t have to go through with it. It’ll be fine.”
Fine.
Fine.
Fine.
None of this is fine.
I search his eyes for a clue he’s lying or upset, but I should know better. I should know that he wouldn’t be upset at me for backing out now. He wouldn’t, but I would. I can’t do this to him. Not after we’re here and we already lied to his mom. I should’ve thought more about this before I jumped to thelet’s pretendto date each othergame.I should’ve thought about the consequences and what we would tell his parents after this trip is over. Now, it’s too late.
One thing’s for sure though: whatever this is and whatever happens this weekend won’t affect our friendship. We’re more than that. If I’ve been able to hide my feelings for him all this time, I sure as hell can hide them during the trip.
“You’re right. I have nothing to fear. It’ll be fine. But don’t be silly. You don’t have to sleep on the floor. We’re both adults, right?”
“Right,” he answers quickly.Exactly. He doesn’t look at me that way, so one bed is not as big a deal for him as it is for me.
“We’ll put pillows in between us. At least the bed has a bazillion of them.”
A knock rattles the door, and I spring back like I’ve been caught stealing cookies or something.Perfect timing.I smooth my hair, march over, and swing the door open. The bellman stands there, cheery and oblivious, a stack of our bags in tow. I step aside with exaggerated relief, allowing him in like he’s a one-man cavalry sent to rescue me from the quicksand.
Saved by the bell. Literally.
3
Ridiculously, Hopelessly Stupid
DAMOCLES BY SLEEP TOKEN
