“You’re not paying for any of this, Bri.” His voice is firm, leaving no room for argument.
Okay, so he won’t share a room with me and won’t let me pay for my room. He’s really making his point clear that he doesn’t want to spend any more time around me.
“I’ll hang with Sawyer for free next week,” I blurt out.
“Stop,” he grumbles as he hands over his card. “I’m paying you to be her nanny and I’m paying for this room. Don’t bring it up again.”
The front desk employee swipes it while pretending not to be eavesdropping. There’s no ‘have a good night’ from her. She just hands him the receipt and goes back to scrolling on her phone.
I look down at the number on mine and his and of course, the rooms are right next to each other. He’s already turning with his bag over the shoulder, not waiting for me to follow. The elevator ride to the second floor is painfully quiet, filled with awkward silence and too many unspoken words. I look everywhere but at him. I scroll through my phone, catching upon text messages from the team doctor about how the medical staff did with Mayhem’s game tonight and missed messages from my roommate Natasha. When we reach our floor, we both swipe into our rooms, and I give him a small awkward wave.
“Goodnight. I’ll text Kelly so she knows we’re here. I can call you when Sawyer wakes up.”
He gives me a nod. “Sure. Night, Bri.”
The door closes behind me, and the silence of finally being alone is deafening. I let out a heavy breath of relief. The room is stifling, hot and muggy, like someone turned off the air conditioner after cleaning it thinking it’d be cooler in August. The first thing I do is crank the AC down to sixty and blast the fan on high. Then I wipe down the TV remote with a sanitizing wipe I find in the bathroomjust in case.It’ll be an icebox in here soon, but that’s fine. I won’t be sleeping any way I just can’t stand being hot and wired.And horny.
I turn on the TV and start scrolling through the channels, but I can’t focus. My mind is spinning, my heart pounding, and my body buzzing with restless energy.
Okay… so, what next?
It’s close to two in the morning now, and I’m pacing the sticky, carpeted floor like a caged animal. The energy drink I chugged is still buzzing through my veins, and I know sleep isn’t happening. My body is wired, my brain refuses to shut off, and all I can think about is the way Seth saidI’d have kept youin the car.
I thought we were vibing, then he made that comment about my glasses and then the red hair I used to have last fall. My hair had been red for years, but after my mom died, and I moved to New York City, I felt like I needed a change. Hence the light brown hair and going back to closer to my natural color. But lately I’ve been missing the strawberry red.
My phone pings with a notification from the group chat I’m in with my Brookhaven crew—Natasha, Alessia and Rhiannon Carpenter and Rosie Tremblay. My neighbors and roommate, and basically the closest thing I have to a support group and a comedy club rolled into one.
The only problem is that Rosie has officially joined that club too. Which means my employer, and the sister-in-law of the man I had a one-night stand with, is dangerously close to figuring out that I have a massive, embarrassingly obvious crush on her brother-in-law.
And if I’m not careful, she’s going to figure it out long before I’m ready for her, Boone or Seth to know.
Rhiannon:Bri! Is everything okay??? Rosie just told me that you and Seth went to Boston to get Sawyer.
Brianna:Why are you awake?
Rhiannon:Breastfeeding.
Alessia:I’m up too. Pregnancy insomnia.
Rosie:Pregnancy insomnia for me too. How’s Sawyer? She must be so scared.
Natasha:I'm here too! I’m closing down the bar.
Brianna:Wow. Everyone’s awake right now.
Brianna:Yes,we’re in Boston. Sawyer’s sleeping now. She panicked and didn’t want to get on the flight home, so she stayed with one of the volleyball moms. We’re resting until she wakes up.
Natasha:We as in... You and Seth?
Rhiannon:Oh… one-bed trope?
Natasha:What’s that?
Rhiannon:Where in the romance novel, they get to an inn, and there’s only one bed, so obviously, they’re forced to share the bed, and then they end up FUCKING.
Alessia:YES! One-bed trope! Tell us there’s only one bed!
Natasha:Is there one bed?
