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She’s got a fair point, but now that my body is prostrate, I’m not sure I could stand. It’s certainly not worth doing simply to change into an undershirt and pair of athletic shorts—which is not normally how I choose to sleep, mind you, but clearly is how I’ll be sleeping for the next week and a half until I get my own room and can go back to wearing jockey shorts to bed.
“I’m fine,” is my only response. “You get some sleep, all right?”
“Freddy, honestly.” She huffs. “After all your travels, you should be sleeping in a real bed tonight. I can take the floor.”
“Absolutely not.” What does she think I am, a monster? No flippin’ way would I allow Chloe to sleep on the floor like some commoner. “Besides, it just wouldn’t be proper.”
“Oh, forget what’s proper.” She moves closer and I turn to see what she’s up to. I wouldn’t put it past her to lie down on the floor in an attempt to force me to the bed. Thankfully, all she’s doing is sitting on the bed’s edge, staring down at me. “Do what’s practical.”
“I can’t.”
“Why?” There goes that bottom lip nibbling again, and I’m undone. I can hear the exhaustion, the frustration in her tone. “I feel bad enough about all of this. If I hadn’t come here, you wouldn’t have been forced into this rubbish scheme of mine. And you’d have your own room at Lauren’s where you’d be able to get a decent night’s rest. Instead, here you are, lying on the floor literally at my feet.”
“That’s where I belong, Princess.” I try for a tease, but perhaps the words ring with too much truth for her liking, because if I didn’t know any better, I’d think Chloe might cry—but she’s far too spirited for that, isn’t she?
“Stop it, Freddy. I mean it.”
How can I explain this in a way she’ll understand? “I’m a soldier, Chloe. A little hard ground for the night doesn’t frighten me.”
“But you shouldn’t have to endure it for my sake.”
“I’d endure a lot more for your sake.” As soon as the words leave my lips, my stomach flips.
Chloe’s lips part, eyes going round.
I rush on. “You’re my princess, after all. And”—I force the distasteful words from my mouth—“like a sister to me. Besides, however innocent sharing a bed would be, I wouldn’t be able to sleep knowing your brother might pop out from my nightmares and murder me.”
She smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Right. Of course.” Then, after remaining quiet for a few long moments, she lifts her chin, determination clearly renewed. “But Topher isn’t here, so you shouldn’t lose sleep on account of him. And if I’m your princess, I can boss you around, right? Isn’t that how this works?”
There she goes, challenging me again. She’s too smart and too stubborn to accept the act I’m trying to put on with her. Even if she doesn’t understand why I’ve been treating her with less camaraderie than normal today, she knows we’ll never just be subject and princess.
And I can’t do it, can’t keep up this kind of battle with her, because she’s just going to keep advancing, keep pushing back on the walls I’ve erected. It’s no use. I have to revert back to our normal gregarious interactions. At least when we’re sparring light-heartedly, I can use my charm against her. Tease her into seeing things my way.
I stretch my arms behind my head and close my eyes. “What’s that? I can’t hear you from my extremely comfortable bed for the night.”
She snorts—a sound I love. Because as regal, as elegant, as much of a fashion icon as Chloe is, she’s also not afraid to be herself. “All right, wise guy.” There’s glee in her voice, like she’s actually won. And maybe she has. “I’ll respect your decision.”
I crack one eye open. She rounds the bed and climbs in on the other side, pulling the covers over her. Giving up? That’s not very Chloe of her at all. “What’s the catch, Princess?”
At that moment, a pillow flies across the room and whacks me in the face.
“Hey!”
“Oops.” Facing me, she props herself up with an elbow so I can see her in all her gorgeous glory. Doesn’t matter that her face is scrubbed of makeup. Chloe’s still the most beautiful woman in the world. Especially when she’s looking at me like this—eyes teasing, lips quirked to one side. “It slipped. Can I get it back?”
How did I ever think I could hold this woman at arms’ length, stiff and unyielding? She’s way too much fun to tease. “I didn’t hear a please.”
“Please, Muscles?”
And don’t get me started on her silly nickname for me. I’ll go to the grave pretending it doesn’t make me want to strut and preen every time I hear it. “Hmm. Tempting. But no.” I snatch up the pillow—it’s one of those frilly, bulky ones that’s just for decoration—and tuck it on top of the other pillow currently under my head.
Her laughter is the best music. “Fine. I didn’t want it anyway.” With that, she reaches up to her lamp and shuts it off.
I smile and let my eyes drift closed again, no longer able to hold back a yawn. My entire body sinks into the floor—and blimey, I may as well be sleeping on a craggy rock. I move to my side, trying to find a comfortable position. How tempting it is to join her up in that soft, comfortable bed, but I know then sleep would be nigh on impossible.
Eventually, my body gives up and my buzzing nerves finally settle.
But my brain doesn’t, bringing me a torturous night of dreams abouther—and what can never be.
