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“Why aren’t you wearing a shirt?” Suddenly distracted by what’s in front of me, the question tumbles out of my mouth before I can stop it.
With his forearm resting on the doorframe, he asks, “Why are you at my door?”
“Guys who wear bow ties aren’t supposed to have bodies like…that.” I motion to his naked chest. “You’ve definitely ruined my gray sweatpants fantasy.” My gaze instinctively wanders back down his chest.
“By the way you can’t stop staring, I don’t think I’ve ruined anything.”
My head shoots up from where I was admiring—I mean studying—fine, drooling over his bare chest. He’s not overly bulky but has some nice definition. “Get to the point,” I mutter to myself. I tug my jacket tighter around me. “Switch rooms with me.”
“Why?”
“There is a giant spider in my room and it’s going to eat me once I fall asleep,” I rush out in a single breath.
“What makes you think I want to be eaten?”
I cross my arms over my chest. “What’s with all the questions? Just switch rooms with me.” I offer him my biggest, saddest puppy dog look.
“So, you have an irrational fear of spiders?”
“I have a perfectly normal fear of anything with more than four legs.”
“Ask nicely.”
I huff and link my fingers together in front of me. “Pretty please switch rooms with me.”
He ponders my plea for a moment. “Nope.”
“Ugh! You’re so infuriating.” I cross my arms.
“How about this?” He drops his arm from the doorframe and twists his body to point toward the corner of the room, taking pity on me. “I have this very uncomfortable chair sitting over in the corner. It’s all yours if you want.”
I eye the chair, then images of the big, hairy spider flood my mind. Narrowing my eyes at him. “Fine. But please put a shirt on.”
He steps out of the way to let me into his room. Immediately, my gaze darts around the space. Of course, he would hang up his clothes, have his shoes lined up by the door, and have everything neat and tidy. My feet carry me over to the chair and I plop down, which was a bad idea because this chair sucks. I rub the underside of my thigh. That’s going to bruise tomorrow.
Seth closes the door, strolls to the other side of the room, and pulls a t-shirt off a hanger. He shoves his arms through the sleeves before tugging it over his head. I can’t help but watch as his back muscles flex and shift with each movement. When he turns around, I quickly divert my gaze, praying he hasn’t caught me gawking at him once again. He crawls into bed and sits up, back leaning against the headboard. He reaches for a book turned over on the nightstand and continues to read. Obviously, he has the body of a God and reads. I’m starting to think the universe hates me. But then an idea pops into my head.
“Seth? Can you do me a favor?” I ask in the softest, sweetest voice I can muster.
His eyes peer at me over the top of his book as he quirks an eyebrow without saying anything.
“Can you just get my suitcase from my room?” I flash him a charming smile, but I can tell he’s annoyed. Seth releases a loud exhale before setting his book back down and climbing out of bed. He throws on his jacket and shoves his feet into his shoes.
“Thank you!” I shove the key into his hand before he can say no. As soon as the door shuts behind him, I beeline it for his warm spot on the bed. I am not sleeping on that godforsaken chair. He can sleep on the chair. Was it a dirty move? Absolutely. Do I regret it? Not for one second.
A few minutes later, Seth is strolling through the door with my suitcase in tow. He rolls the bag into the room, removes his jacket, and turns his gaze on me while I lie in his bed.
“What are you doing?”
“Going to sleep.” I wiggle my butt, pretending to get cozy.
“I don’t think so. You can sleep over there.” He points to the chair.
“Nope.”
Seth narrows his eyes at me. “You know what? Fine. I get it.” Seth saunters toward the bed and rests his hands on the comforter, bending down so his face is in front of mine. His breath is a whisper across my skin. “You just want to sleep with me. It’s okay. Your secret’s out, sweetheart.” He emphasizes the last word.
“You wish. I just happen to hate spiders more than I hate you. And let me say, I really hate spiders.” I clench my jaw. He rounds the bed and pulls back the covers before crawling in and tugging the blanket up to his waist as he lies on his back. I turn off the lamp, shrouding the room in darkness. Shimmying down, I lie next to him, but then my eyes dart toward the door. After a few minutes, I break the silence. “Seth?” He answers with a grumble. “Can you switch sides with me?”
