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“Good morning.” I snickered.
He was trying to focus. “What are you wearing?”
“My suit. Well, my suit pants. The jacket is right over—”
“No, I mean”—he rotated his head back and forth—“what’s going on?”
“Well, you have to shower and have some breakfast. I need to coordinate our exodus from this hotel, and—”
“No.” He sniffled. “Why are you dressed?”
“Because I ran this morning, came back, used the gym, used the pool, showered, shaved, changed, had breakfast, and was reading the paper, waiting for you,” I answered, very amused by his complete confusion. “You want some coffee?”
He came around the table, and I pushed away from it so he could sit down in my lap, which was apparently where he wanted to be.
“What happened last night? Why didn’t you sleep with me?”
“I passed out on the chair after I talked to Nate.”
“Who?”
“My ex.”
“Why were you talking to your ex?”
“Just some things needed to be said. It was good.”
His hands slid up my chest as he scrutinized me.
“What?”
“Whenever we’re together from now on, I want you to sleep with me.”
“Okay, I will. I just didn’t wanna accidentally attack you in the middle of the night.”
“Maybe I would have liked that,” he grumbled.
“You’re really cute, all bleary and out of it.”
He would not be baited; instead, he slumped forward and nuzzled under my jaw.
“You need to eat.”
“Tell me what’s going on.”
“We’re leaving in about two hours, so really, you need to get a move on.”
“Why did I pass out? Did someone roofie me?”
I snorted out a laugh. “No, you passed out because once the adrenaline goes, you’re pretty much done.”
“Adrenaline?”
“Just the racing around you’ve been doing is crazy. Plus, think about all the changes in your life over the past few days, and then last night and today … you just wrung yourself out.”
“That’s ridiculous,” he snapped, getting up and stalking to the window. “I’m not weak. I’m not the woman in this thing.”
“In this thing?” I repeated.
