He swung around to beam at her. “Lauren! Did you hear?”
Oh, she’d heard, all right. His mom back in Florida probably had too.
“What do you say? Can we do this?” He clasped his hands under his chin like an innocent schoolboy, which he most definitely wasnot. “I promise to be good.”
He—wanted to share a bed with her? Really?
Dropping her gaze to the scratched wooden floor, she tried to think past her instinctive buzz of excitement and pleasure, the bolt of sensation between her legs when she pictured the two of them in bed together. Intertwined. Naked. His weight on her, his strong, capable hands spreading her wide and—
No. No, she shouldn’t sexualize this. That wasn’t fair to himortheir friendship.
But if she shared a room and a bed with him, the memory would haunt her once their road trip ended. She’d dream about it. Mourn what had been and would never be again. The wisest answer, then, given her burgeoning, ill-conceived feelings for him, was a firmno.
Therightanswer … that was tougher to pin down.
His thumb on her chin gently guided her gaze to his. “Look, Wren, it’s okay. If you’re not comfortable, we don’t take the room. No problem. I mean that.”
His gray eyes were warm. Sincere.
He did mean it, she knew. He wouldn’t begrudge her a refusal, no matter how disappointed he might be.
But if she agreed, she’d undoubtedly make him very happy. Which would, in turn, makeherhappy, at least in the moment, and also allow her to avoid a repeat of the evening’s earlier, extremely unfortunate, “Pour Some Sugar on Me” Incident.
She was tired. She was stiff from a long day in the car. And damn it, she wanted to know how it felt to share a bed with him. Just once.
She let out a slow breath, then turned to the waiting clerk.
“Let’s do it,” she said, and jumped again at Alex’s elated whoop.
Maybe it wasn’t the wisest answer, but it washeranswer. The right answer.
At least for tonight.
21
ALEX EXHALED AS HE PACED, AND HE COULD ACTUALLY SEEthe puff of air. Even though it was July. In California.
Well, he couldn’t say the kid at the front desk had misled them. The small room contained only one full-size bed and no couch. Its air conditioner chugged away at full blast no matter which setting he chose. And as the clerk had informed them while pressing the key into Wren’s hand, the windows were indeed painted shut.
The room felt like the world’s smallest hockey rink. Under normal circumstances, he’d be bitching nonstop. But since they were only staying there because of him …
Well, he’d only complainoccasionally.
Behind the room’s flimsy bathroom door, Wren was showering. Hopefully under the hottest water she could stand, because those sheets were going to feel like ice.
The sheets they’d soon be under. Together.
Shit, he couldn’t keep staring at the door. It was damn creepy. And if he continued imagining rivulets of steamy water running down her lush, wet, naked body, no amount of glacial cold could prevent his own body from visibly responding, and he didn’t want to scare her away when she emerged from the bathroom.
She’d trusted him enough to share a bed. He wouldn’t violate that trust.
Resolutely turning away from the bathroom door, Alex got out his phone and occupied himself by uploading the day’s videos on various platforms, tagging Carah wherever possible.
The sound of running water stopped, and he bit his lip.
The towering pile of extra blankets they’d carried to their room and spread over the bed might keep her warm. But if the blankets weren’t enough …
No, he wouldn’t think about it. He couldn’t. Not when she was coming out so soon, her soft skin damp and flushed with heat, almost like they’d just been—
