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What a shame.
“It’s okay,” I croak and turn around.
“I thought I’d change here before you came out. Thank goodness you walked out when I already had my pants on,” he jokes.
“Uh, yeah.” I nod and turn back to look at him.
Seeing him shirtless is enough to cause my heart to skip a few beats. I do not need to see him in his underwear. “I’m gonna go to the bathroom.” He points behind me.
I nod mutely, trying to catch my bearings. It’s useless. I’m still struck by his now-covered body. Tristan is the whole package.
While he’s in the bathroom, I hang my dress and place my bag by the closet. I search in there for blankets and pillows but don’t find any extras, so I grab the second pillow from the bed and the blanket folded at the foot of it.
Tristan walks out of the bathroom as I’m settling on the couch.
“What are you doing?” His voice is tight and demanding.
“Going to sleep.” I raise my eyebrows.
“Not there, you aren’t.” He shakes his head, grabbing the blanket.
“Hey!” I reach for it, but he’s quicker than me.
“You get the bed. I’ll take the couch.” He crosses his arms.
I’m momentarily distracted by the way his biceps bulge.
“No.” I shake my head, focusing on his eyes. They’re a safer bet.
“Don’t fight me on this, Sage. You need proper rest. I refuse for you to sleep on the couch.” His stance is firm and stubborn.
“What about you?” I tilt my head.
“I’ve slept on worse than this,” he says. “One night won’t hurt.”
“Same for me,” I challenge. “The room is yours, so you sleep on the bed.” I match him stubborn for stubborn.
Tristan steps closer to me. I hold my breath as I watch his movements.
“The room is under my name because they messed up and double-booked your room. Had this room been yours, would you still make me sleep on the bed?” He arches an eyebrow.
“Yes.” I lift my chin.
“You’re being difficult.” He stares at me.
“You are,” I throw back, fluffing the pillow on the sofa and settling in. “I can sleep without a blanket.” I smirk in triumph.
Tristan rolls his eyes. Shaking his head, he bends down and grabs me.
“What are you doing?” I screech.
“Carrying you to the bed.” He holds me in his arms and walks the few steps to the bed.
“Tristan,” I argue, trying to release my legs.
He tightens his hold on them, and I glare at him. He’s so close that I can see the layers of green in his eyes. His lips are full and right in my face. I could pull him in and kiss him. That’d probably do the trick.
Or not. It’d bring about a whole different set of issues.
