Finley freezes, then smiles, “No—they’re just very overprotective. But I told them how lovely y’all are and about the caroling tonight and baking tomorrow.” She cringes at her excitement. “Sorry, this must seem so lame.”
“Absolutely not,” Mom says firmly, setting her mug on the counter. “I love your enthusiasm. It’s refreshing.”
Finley lifts her hand to cover her mouth when she releases a big yawn.
“You must be exhausted,” Mom says. “Alex, why don’t you show Finley to your room?”
“Yeah,” I say, sliding off the stool. “Good idea.”
Finley drains the rest of her cup and heads around the island to put her cup in the sink, but Mallory intercepts and takes it from her. “I’ve got this.”
“We’ll probably get started around eight,” Mom says, “You don’t have to be here when we start—sleep in if you want and come down when you’re ready.”
“Oh, no,” Finley says, all determination. “I’ll see you at eight. Good night.”
I lead her up the stairs and stop outside my old bedroom. When I push the door open, I brace for nostalgia. The last time I’d slept here it felt like a time capsule—Grant and my high-school trophies. Twin beds with the same bedding we had a decade ago. Mom hadn’t changed a thing.
Only… she has.
The two twin beds have been shoved together and turned sideways into one enormous bed. A California King where my twin bed had been.
“What the hell?” I mutter.
Finley freezes in the doorway, and her whole body stiffens. “Wait. You said we would be sleeping in separate beds,” she whispers, stunned.
“I know.” I slip past her and shut the door, then gesture helplessly at the monstrous bed. “My mom must have put the beds together. She probably thought she was doing us a favor.”
“Well, take them apart,” she hisses, whirling on me, furious. “I’m not sleeping with you, Alex!”
I stare at the bed, trying to come up with a solution. “We can’t take the beds apart. How will we explain it to my mother?”
She presses a hand to her forehead, looking even more tired than she did downstairs. “I don’t know. Maybe you can tell her we’re so new that we aren’t sleeping together yet.”
“No one is going to believe that,” I say, rolling my eyes. “Trust me.”
She drops her hand and props it on her hip. “Why? Because you’re just so damn irresistible?”
I stepped into that one. “Well,” I hedge. “I seem to do okay with women.”
The flash in her eyes confirms I just made things worse.
“Well, good for you.” She stabs her finger into my chest. “But I must be immune to the Alex charm, because I am not sleeping in the same bed with you.” She marches over to the bed and grabs a pillow. “I’ll sleep somewhere else.”
I step in front of her and block her path. “Finley, where do you plan to go?”
She lifts her chin defiantly. “I’ll sleep in your parents’ office.”
“You can’t do that. My dad goes in there early. What if he—what will it look like?”
“That’s not my problem.” Her eyes widen. “Oh, my word! Was this your plan all along?”
“No!” I shout, then lower my voice when I realize my family might hear me. “I had no idea Mom would do this. She never has before.”
She clutches the pillow to her chest like it’s a shield. “I have a contract that says we do not sleep in the same bed.” She pivots at the waist and points to the giant mattress. “That is one bed.”
She’s right. We have a contract, and this is a big problem. “Finley,” I say, “let’s be reasonable. We’re both adults. I’ll stay on my side. I promise that nothing will happen.”
Her eyes go wide, incredulous. “Why? Because there’s no way you’d ever touch me?”
