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“Um.”
Dalton and I look back at the receptionist who cleared her throat behind us.
“There is only one bed in that room, actually.”
Of course.
Dalton’s expression is unreadable as he faces me. I roll my eyes and snatch the card out of his hand, heading toward the elevator. I’m aware of him following me because I feel the burn of his wicked stare like it’s searing me through my clothes. He might run hot and cold with me. He might be quick to dismiss me as a hookup, while he’ll also ask me to decide what’s going on. But as soon as the elevator doors close and trap us in the confined space of the metal cube, the tension is unbearable. I have to say something about this stupid predicament.
“I’ll sleep on the floor.”
He doesn’t budge, staring at me like I’m an idiot.
“I’m not sharing a bed with you.” I cross my arms, needing to feel steady in those words I don’t want to believe.
Now he moves, lifting his hand to rub his jaw where a faint dark scuff is growing in. He doesn’t look like a rich dude out of a New York boardroom now. In that blue shirt and worn jeans, plus the facial hair, he looks deliciously rugged. Being alone in the elevator emphasizes that I’m with him for the night. All I can envision is getting under the sheets with him until morning.
Stop.
“Got it? I’m not sharing a bed with you again.”
He scoffs. “Again? We never made it to a bed the first time.”
My cheeks heat at his reminder. We hadn’t. I’d lunged at him on the floor in front of the fireplace at the B&B. The way he says it makes it sound dirtier, though, more wicked and helpless than it might be otherwise.
Tongue-tied as the memories of what his lips felt like on me hit hard, I tip my chin up and look to the side.
“What else was I supposed to do?” he asks.
“Not get the room and plan to share it with me.”
“So I should’ve let you drive home? Drunk?”
I stab the button for the floor again, impatient at how long it’s taking. “I’m not drunk.”
“Buzzed. Call it what you want. You’re not stupid, Aubrey. You know you’re not fit to drive.”
“I’m stupid to consider sharing a room with you.”
He stalks close as his temper snaps, but he keeps it in check—barely. Clenching his jaw, he sets his hands on both walls in the corner where I stand. He’s caging me in, but I have plenty of room to duck under his arms.
“What’s your damn problem?”
“I don’t want to be stuck alone with you. Again.”
He tilts his head to the side. “Are you mad because you’d rather be going home with Hayes?”
I squint my eyes and gape at him. “Who’s the idiot now?” All I want is to be alone with Dalton. I don’t know how he can’t see that as well as he can realize I’m fighting that very situation. How dense is he?
“Saying you’ll sleep on some dirty carpet floor is pretty idiotic if you ask me.”
“I’m not asking you.” I shove him back as the elevator doors finally ding and open.
“Then forget about sleeping on any floor,” he retorts as he follows me out the elevator.
“What’s it to you?” I turn to toss him an angry glance over my shoulder. “I’ll do what I want.”
He narrows his eyes. “It’s not necessary,” he argues hotly.
