Page 51 of I Wish He Would

How is she supposed to know you like her if you’re not making eyes at her?

DAWSON

Are you remembering the game plan?

ME

I’ve got the screenshot saved.

It’s impossible to forget how they bombarded me in my hotel room a few nights ago and came up with said game plan. It wasn’t necessarily in those plans to pretend that we were a couple this week, but I don’t think it’ll hurt. If anything, it will give me more opportunities to be close to her. Touch her. Maybe even have a repeat of our first kiss, if I’m lucky.

I tear my gaze away from my phone screen when I hear Alyssa’s tone go high-pitched, sounding stressed. I slide it back in my pocket and reach for the luggage when she turns and walks back toward me, her face flushed.

“Good news. We have a place to stay.” She presses her lips together and holds up a key card. A singular key card. “But there’s only one room.”

Austin’s eyes move from the hotel room key card to me. I can feel the blush on my cheeks, so I’m sure he can see it. I just hope he can’t sense the stress coursing through my veins. It was going to be hard enough to spend this week with Austin in a romantic beach setting when he only sees us as friends. But having to share a room with him? That takes my stress to another level.

No freedom to call someone when I need to debrief. No space to escape his hotness. How am I supposed to shower and get ready for all the events when we’re sharing a bathroom? Where am I supposed to, you know, empty my bowels? I know of married couples who have still never pooped in front of their spouse after years of marriage. And now I’m going to have to poop in the same bathroom as Austin? Nope. Just the thought of that makes me want to crawl into a dark hole and never come out. Looks like I’m pooping in the lobby bathroom.

“Let me go talk to them. I’m sure I can work something out.” Austin tries to move past me, but I place my hand on his chest to stop him.

“Trust me, I already tried. Since I responded so late, I guess I got the last one available in their room block.” I hug my middle. “They must’ve assumed I wouldn’t mind sharing a room with my plus-one.”

“You didn’t book the rooms yourself?” he asks.

“No, Bianca said she’d take care of it when I texted her I was coming with a date.” I drop my gaze to my sneakers. “I knew I shouldn’t have trusted her.”

“It’s not your fault.” Austin squeezes my arm. “The rest of the resort is fully booked?”

I nod. “Apparently there’s a giant family reunion on the kid-friendly side of the resort. And the adult-only side is filled with Bianca and Bradley’s friends and family, plus the guests for a wedding this weekend and normal vacationers.”

“Then I guess we’re going to have to make the best of it, roomie.” His lips tilt into a reassuring smile, but I don’t feel any better.

Four nights. Sharing a room. With my friend. Who I have feelings for.

Yeah, sounds like a great idea.

“We should probably go get ready.” I let out an awkward laugh. “Apparently, it will take ample time for me to look presentable.”

“First of all, it’s a beach welcome party. It takes, like, two seconds to put on a swimsuit.” Austin’s eyes soften, two pools of ocean blue as dazzling and warm as the Caribbean waters. “But more importantly, you are more beautiful after a long day of travel than Bianca could ever be. Don’t let her comments get to you. She’s just jealous that she’s being outshined by someone who isn’t even trying.”

I blame the tears that fill my eyes on my lack of sleep. “You don’t have to say that.”

Austin spears me with a look. “I’m not the kind of guy who says something for the heck of it.” One tear falls onto my cheek, and he catches it with his thumb. My breath hitches at the feeling of his large hand cupping my face. “I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

“I’m just exhausted.” And don’t know what to do with the fact that he called me beautiful or the gentle way he’s touching me.

“Then let’s get you rested.” He grabs our suitcases and heads toward the elevator.

“I don’t have time to rest.” I glance at my phone. “We only have an hour and a half to unpack and get ready for the welcome party.”

Austin clicks the up button and turns to me while we wait. “If by unpack and get ready, you mean nap.”

“I can’t—” I start, but he stops me.

“You can. I know you like everything to be perfect. Always on time, never a hair out of place, but it’s okay to be late on occasion.”

The elevator dings, and I press the button for the third floor once we’re inside.