Okay, look. I’ve slept on my fair share of hard floors after drunken nights in college, but I draw the line at sleeping on wooden slats and wrecking my spine forever.
Holden pulls out his phone while I open the closet, just in case there’s a mattress hiding in there.
Nope.
This keeps getting better.
“Dammit,” Holden snarls behind me. I turn back around in time to see him staring grimly at his screen. “Looks like the last client who stayed here made a serious mess. Ruined the goddamned mattress. I just checked the rental notes.”
“A mess? Doing what?” I wrinkle my nose. “Actually, never mind. Don’t answer that.”
“Partying, it seems. Make of that what you will.” He locks his phone and slides it back into his pocket. “Apparently housecleaning couldn’t fix it, so they had to throw the whole mattress out. I wish I’d looked before we arrived.”
“Well, we have two more rooms, right?”
He looks up grimly, looking like he just caught a bullet.
“Nile, I wasn’t finished… those rowdy fucks destroyed two beds in the penthouse. All the mattresses were wrecked except for the master bedroom.”
“What? And they didn’t replace them?”
He scowls. “This was a little over a week ago, so the replacements are still on order. I’ll take the couch.”
“Oh, no. Absolutely not. How old are you? If you sleep on the couch, you’ll get back pain. And then you’ll be really unbearable.”
“I’m not seventy.” His scowl deepens.
“Nope, I’m not giving your grumpy, overbearing ass a reason to play martyr. We both know you’ll use it against me later. Besides, I was a student not that long ago.”
“I’m aware,” he says gruffly, folding his arms and leaning against the door. “Your point?”
“I’m used to roughing it. Dorms, hostels, beds shared with three other people of any gender because we had to.” I smile sweetly. “This is still an upgrade compared to that. And I never wound up with a backache once.”
“I don’t have back problems,” he snarls, stalking back into the living room, shaking his head.
“Whatever you say, Gramps.”
I follow him a moment later.
Honestly, the sofa doesn’t look that comfortable despite being high end, but it’ll do with a nest of blankets and pillows. I’ll never understand why Gramps didn’t bring a nice sectional in here when the room was big enough.
Holden won’t fit comfortably with his ridiculous height, but I will.
I mean, if I curl up a bit.
Maybe if I drag two chairs together? Or I could take the cushions out and put them on the floor. There has to be a solution.
“No argument. Let me take the couch,” I say, sensing him hovering behind me again, still vibrating with anger.
“Cleo—”
“You have knee pain,” I say matter-of-factly.
His brown eyes flash like sun-soaked desert sands.
“Don’t pretend you don’t. I noticed how careful you were walking onto the plane earlier.” I look down. “Just suck it up and take the bed, my guy. I need you locked in if you’re going to be a good guard dog, right?” I venture meeting his eyes again.
Guilt punch.
