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“Then you sleep, I’ll talk. You can ignore me.”
This gets me a small, rueful smile and a shake of her head. She shoves her hand through her mop of curls.
The driver asks, “Ma’am, do you want me to get rid of this guy?”
I wait.
She rolls her eyes. “Thanks, but no. I don’t.”
twelve
Journey
I fling myself onto the bed in nothing but my clean tee shirt and underwear. Not going to lie, I’m glad Jason booked this room for me. Who wouldn’t be?
“Not a totally wasted trip,” I say, my voice muffled by the pillow as I close my eyes. “I got my things.”
“I can get you new things,” Jason rumbles from the end of the bed, watching me.
I don’t have the strength to argue anymore.
“Okay. You do that.”
Oh, I bet he’s happy I said that.
“Fine. What’s your size?”
“I’m a 14,” I say, not caring that he knows now. I mean, he saw all of me last night. Literally all.
I shiver at the thought of everything we did in this bed.
“Hey,” I say, listening to him tap away at his phone.
“What is it, shortcake?”
“I’m officially still mad at you, and I still haven’t decided whether I’ll stay at Rubicon. But could you, like, pet me to sleep?”
I get my answer when I feel the bed shift under Jason’s weight. He spoons up behind me. Doesn’t ask me to explain what I want. Doesn’t comment that it’s cute. Doesn’t say that it’s awkward for him since I’m still feeling the way I do about everything that he’s done.
He just…does what I ask him to do.
Jason’s fingers weave softly through my hair, sending a wave of gentle tingles over my scalp. He adjusts himself to get closer, and his warmth heats me. I notice everything as I begin to drift off: the rise and fall of his chest against my back, the way he alternates between letting my hair slip through his hand and caressing my scalp.
“Don’t stop,” I murmur against the pillow.
After a beat, he says, “I couldn’t if I wanted to.”
Jason is still behind me when I wake up, but someone else is on the bed, too.
I jerk up, fully awake, and am relieved when my eyes focus. It’s not a person lying on the foot of the bed but a garment bag.
I clutch my chest. “Holy shit, I thought it was a person.”
Jason laughs, his hand caressing my shoulder. “You need glasses.”
Behind me, I feel a specific familiar stiffness pressing into my ass. “And you need to stop flirting because it’s not happening right now. What time is it?”
“Three-thirty.”
