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He doesn’t join my laughter, but I detect a faint smile playing on his perfectly proportioned lips, slit through with a slim scar.
The elevator stops at the next floor and a couple stands on the other side, making out. Magnus glances at the keycard and taps the button to close the doors.
We’re quiet until we reach the eighth floor and room eight-nineteen. It’s the moment of truth. Will I be sleeping on a sofa or a nest on the floor?
Magnus opens the door and then gestures I go first.
The room is fresh and spacious, but not a suite. Just one big square filled with a massive king-size bed. An executive desk, television stand, bistro table, and a cushy reading chair along with a lamp take up the rest of the space.
“It’s just one night. It’s perfect.” I lower down and bounce a little on the chair.
“You take the bed. I’ll sleep over here,” Magnus commands.
“This isn’t up for debate. You get the bed. It’s your room. Also, you can shower first if you want to. I have a few beauty routines to do before tomorrow, so I might take a while.”
“I’ll take you up on the shower, but we’ll see about the bed.” A little growly exclamation comes out of his chest before he disappears behind the bathroom door.
Exhausted and prepared to improvise, I rifle through the drawers looking for extra bedding. Nothing.
When the shower comes on, I flop onto the bed. I just need one moment to regroup before I sleep sitting up or in a ball on the floor.
My eyes flutter and dip closed. Like watching a B-grade movie, the last hours play in my mind. Accidentally proposing to the best man over text. The best man who turns out to be the best man that I’ve ever seen in recent years.
The man with the deep brown eyes.
The head full of hair that begs me to run my fingers through it.
Who smells like mountain air.
His stature is one of strength.
His posture with purpose.
Whose lips...
I shudder a breath.
The best man who seemed to acknowledge the conflict in my heart and mind as I gave the toast at the rehearsal dinner. Who has spared me from bringing up my history with Ross. Who dragged me like a stray from the pool while looking at the others like he was going to drag them into a brawl.
The man who’s on the other side of the wall and whom I’m now sharing a room with for the night. It’s 12:32 so technically, it’s morning.
I spent much of my youth hiking and orienteering in the wilds of the Pacific Northwest. When my dad moved to Alaska, I spent summers with him in the wildlands.
All of that is to say I can handle a night in a temperature-controlled room on a chair...with a handsome but slightly gruff man who seems like he wants to be here about as much as me.
Which is to say not at all.
Perhaps I found a kindred spirit.
Not likely. But I do find myself waking with a snore when Magnus nudges my foot with his. I open my eyes and stare at the ceiling briefly before looking at him, towering over me with wet hair.
Instead of a dress shirt and pants, he wears a tank and athletic shorts. His scent of mountain air and high altitudes wafts my way. No need for oxygen up here, er, down here.
Bolting to sitting, I say, “Are you just coming from the gym? Is it tomorrow?” Tearing my eyes from his fit and delightfully muscular physique—like WOW—I look toward the window. “Either it’s really early or really late.”
“The second one. I usually just sleep in just my shorts so—” He gestures to his attire.
“So that explains why you’re wearing your gym gear. Got it.” Cheeks on fire as I scramble to my feet, I hurry toward the bathroom. “I am sorry I fell asleep. Wasn’t trying to stake my claim on the bed. Just toss a pillow on the chair and I’ll be good. G’night,” I call as I slam the door behind me.
