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She guffaws.
I scowl at her. "Now what?"
"You sound a lot like our dear friend Penny, right before she fell head-over-heels for Knight."
"Knight had feelings for her. From the get go, it was obvious the two of them had eyes only for each other. Unlike Rick—"
"Unlike Rick, who’s trying his best not to show it?"
I narrow my gaze on her. "You must be mistaken. We hate each other. In fact, we've never been able to stand each other, even when I was the PR manager for Declan and Rick was his bodyguard."
"You know what they say about the boy in the playground who pulls at your braids? He's the one who likes you the most."
"This is not a playground. This"—I wave at the scene around me—"is real life. And I don’t wear braids or wear my hair down for a reason."
"Okay." She reaches for her bottle of water and takes a sip.
"Okay? That’s it." I look at her with suspicion. "You’re not going to try to convince me otherwise?"
"Nah, you know best what it's like when the two of you are together."
"We’re not together."
"I mean, when you’re interacting. I’m sure it really is dislike on both your parts. Besides, you only have to deal with him at work, right? And you’ll have a lot to do with settling into your new room and all that."
"About that…" I wriggle around, trying to find a more comfortable seat on the park bench. "There’s been a small hitch."
"A hitch?" She frowns.
"When I checked in, there was no room for me. Some admin mix-up. So, I’m having to share the suite with Rick."
"Wait. Hold on." She slaps at the settings and comes to a complete standstill. "You’re sharing a room with the man you hate?"
"It would seem that way, yes."
"You’re sharing a room with the hot captain of the most exciting hockey team in the country?"
"It’s a master-suite,” I clarify.
"How many bedrooms does it have?"
"One," I mutter under my breath.
"Did you say one?" Her eyes widen.
"He’s going to sleep on the couch.”
"Have you seen the size of that man? He’s got to be at least six feet three inches."
"Six six, actually." I redden. Why do I know his exact height? Oh yeah, because it’s my job, that’s why.
Her lips twitch, then she schools her features into an expression of disbelief. "And he’s going to sleep on the couch?"
"It pulls out into a bed." I bite the inside of my cheek. I have no idea if it does or not. I should feel bad about lying to my friend, but—I’m not sure how to explain that the prospect of being in such close proximity to that rat’s ass of a man fills me with both trepidation and a strange excitement. Don’t get me wrong, I’m pissed at the entire situation. In fact, I’m sure Rick is having a laugh at my expense, and I definitely do not want to have anything to do with him. Ideally, I don’t want to work with him, but given the circumstances, I can either keep complaining or I can suck it up and make the best of it. And no one knows how to make the most of a bad situation the way I do.
"So he’s going to be on the couch, and you’re going to be in his bed?"
"Technically, it’s now my bed,” I fib.
