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“And that you’ll keep calling me Jane.”
His silver eyes soften. “You’ll always be Jane to me.”
“Trixie Balls.”
“Okay,” he says, lowering his eyes back to his phone. He starts typing again.
I frown. “You’re really not going to laugh? That name is awful.”
“I do prefer Jane Myers,” he says. “But a name is just that—a name. What you do with your life is what matters most. We’ll find that prick. And I’ll make sure he doesn’t come anywhere near you.”
Colton
“I’m sorry, Mr. Green.” The receptionist says, scratching his beard. “We couldn’t reserve both of the rooms you requested.”
Horror flashes across Jane’s face, and my blood pumps harder through my veins. The only consolation regarding this trip was that we’d both have our space. That I’d have somewhere to take a breather, especially after that heavy conversation on the plane. Not to mention my overprotectiveness when it comes to Jane. I need a timeout. “What do you mean? I booked two rooms with a connecting door. We’re guests at the wedding.”
“Uh, yes. It’s because of the wedding that the hotel is at full capacity, and they needed an additional room for the bridal party. Mr. Hunter reckoned it might've been a bit of a mix-up when you initially reserved two rooms.”
“It was not a bloody mistake,” I growl through gritted teeth. The receptionist takes a step back, probably surprised by the chill in my tone. I clear my throat and take a deep breath. “It was for . . . storage.”
“We’d be more than happy to store anything you need.”
“Never mind. We’ll figure it out,” I grumble, snatching the key card from the front desk. I know it’s pointless to scout the area for another hotel. Wade and Roxy are getting married in the same secluded town in east England that I called home for so many years. There’s nothing else here.
We make our way to the elevator, and once we’re alone, I turn to Jane. “I’m truly sorry. This wasn’t part of the contract.”
She swallows hard but doesn’t look at me. “It’s fine. It’s only two nights.”
I shove my hands in my pockets. “Right.”
She doesn’t seem too affected, but flames are lapping inside me at the thought of sleeping in the same room as Jane. These past few days, I’ve been staying away from her as much as possible, and I’m not sure I can handle this new forced proximity.
We find our room, and it’s tiny. I knew this wouldn’t be a five-star hotel when I looked at the photos, but now that we’re sharing this space, it feels minuscule. One double bed with nightstands on each side, a two-seater sofa against the left wall, and a dresser with a TV mounted above it. Bland artwork graces the walls, and on the right, there’s a door leading to what I’m guessing is a miniature bathroom.
Jane starts unpacking like this is no big deal, and I just stand there, paralyzed.
She gives me a pointed look. “It’s fine, Colton. I know you don’t like to share, but it’s just sleeping, and just two nights.”
I want to slap myself out of my trance, but I scratch my forehead instead and proceed to unpack my stuff. She’s right. It’s just two nights. I can handle it. But no matter how many times I repeat that line to myself, it never starts to feel true.
23
Roseanne
Jane
My performance of the chilled-out girl who’s not bothered to sleep in the same room as the guy she likes deserves an Oscar. My body temperature skyrocketed when the receptionist said we’d have to share a room, but it cooled down once Colton mentioned the contract, then said how sorry he was that we had to share. He can’t stand the idea of sleeping in the same room as me, and here I am pining for the guy. There is something seriously wrong with me. This needs to stop now.
But those kinds of feelings aren’t something you can switch on and off. As soon as I lie down on the bed, the mattress seems to burn below me. Colton, who just got out of the shower—he let me take mine first—is now lying next to me, and he smells heavenly. I feel so vulnerable in my pajamas.
Not that they’re anything fancy or sexy, just comfy pants and a T-shirt. But I might as well be naked. And the fact that Colton is in his pajamas too doesn’t help.
“Do you have enough space?” he asks.
I swallow hard. “Yes. You?”
“Yes.”
