Matt glances up and down the hallway before he points a thumb at the door behind him. “I’ve got Brynn in there,” he whispers furiously.
I scrub my hand across my eyes. It’s been a long day—fun, but very tiring. I want to go to sleep.
When I don’t respond, Matt leans in. “You know, like to spend the night?”
“Yeah, Matt. I got that. Where am I supposed to sleep?”
He shrugs. “If Brynn’s with me, that leaves an open spot inyourlady’s room.” He wiggles his eyebrows. “Maybe we’ll both get lucky tonight.”
I groan, feeling anything butluckyin this situation. Olivia wouldn’t like Matt’s idea at all; it goes way beyond the PG-13 fling she envisioned.
Sharing a room—and a bed—with Olivia, though…. Well, let’s just say that if I thought she’d go for it, I’d be knocking on her door already.
As much as we’ve been connecting—and kissing—these last few weeks, and as much as we had an amazing time together today, Olivia does better with space. She reacts best when I let her come to me in a no-pressure situation.
Showing up at her hotel room door and asking to stay the night is exactly the kind of thing that will put her on the defensive and make her close back up.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I finally say.
“What’s the big deal? You guys are dating, aren’t you?”
“Yeah, but not sharing-a-hotel-room-level dating. And I’m pretty sure Olivia would have a problem with you even saying ‘dating.’”
Matt stares at me. “Come on,” he says. “You guys are clearly into each other.”
“It's more complicated than that,” I explain. “I don't know, man. I don't think that conversation’s going to go well.”
Matt shrugs. “I feel for you, but not my problem.”
And then he’s gone and the door slams closed in my face.
Seriously?
I heave a deep breath trying to release my exasperation with it. Then I walk down the hall and knock softly on Olivia’s hotel room door.
She opens the door in a huge T-shirt that grazes her thighs, her legs bare underneath. I snap my eyes up quickly. Her face looks freshly scrubbed, her cheeks pink from all the sun we got today. Her eyes widen when she sees me.
“Gage?” she says. “What are you doing?”
“Umm,” I stutter.
“I thought maybe it was Brynn, and she lost her key. Have you seen her?”
I shift my duffel bag on my shoulder and hold my hands out, palms up. “Sort of?” I answer.
She tilts her head, waiting for me to explain. I take a deep breath, and then it all comes out in a rush. “MattandBrynnarehookingupinmyroomcanIsleephere?”
Olivia narrows her eyes. “What?” she asks.
I sigh and repeat myself more slowly this time. “Matt and Brynn are hooking up in my room. Can I sleep here?”
The panic in her eyes is evident. Her “cool girl” mask has slipped, and the look on her face is pure pre–high school Olivia. Uncertainty mixed with determination—all emotion with none of that detached Delaney facade that’s been her default for years. My heart twinges. There’s no way I don’t fall for this Olivia. Real Olivia.
She’s reacting about how I expected, proof that she’s nowhere near ready to be as vulnerable with me as this situation might require. She’s not acting defensive, though. At least, not yet.
“I mean, is there a couch or something I can crash on?”
Finally, she blinks, tosses her head, and turns to evaluate the hotel room behind her. “A couple of armchairs," she says. “And one bed.”
