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"No, but I mention hiring one in another rule." His eyes bulge. "I can show you. I think it's on the next pa—"
He snatches the book from my hands. "Give me that."
"Hey!" I lurch over the table, failing to swipe it back.
"What other nonsense do you have in here?" He flips back and forth between pages, holding the notebook at different depths, squinting like he's deciphering a morse code transcription. One by one, he reads them off, each rule more embarrassing than the last.
"No sleepovers."
My cheeks flame when he snickers.
"No sharing a bed. Ever." His eyes flicker to mine, delight glinting in them. "Very definitive in your statements, aren't you?"
I cross my arms. "With you, I need to be."
"I'll have you know, you'd be very comfortable in my bed."
My lips part.
"It's an Alaskan king," he adds quickly.
"An Alaskan king, really?" I drawl. "Don't you think that's a bit overkill? Why would you need a bed that sleeps, like, four pee-oo-pleee....." The word contorts and fizzles out on my tongue, as graphic images flash before me.
His lips curl into a wolfish grin. "Tell me, sweet Jules. Have you slept on Egyptian cotton?"
Lord, help me.
"No. And I don't plan on it."
"Well, seems we're in a bit of a predicament, then."
"How so? I said I'm not moving in. End of discussion."
"Yes, that's your non-negotiable. But this is mine."
Now it's my turn to blink. "What's there to negotiate? I'm not moving in, so there's no way I'm sleeping in your bed."
Rubbing his jawline, he hums in thought. "Exactly. Now you're getting it. We're at a standstill. Seems we'll have to..." He lets his sentence drop off open-endedly.
Is this man speaking in riddles? I'm about to make another grab at my journal, lest he continue with my torture, when the answer smacks me upside the head. "Compromise," I whisper, dread pooling in my core. We'll have to compromise.
"Ding, ding, ding." He shoots me a wink, full of amusement. "But, don't you worry. Turn that frown upside down, baby. Compromise is the first key to a strong relationship—or so I've heard. I've never actually stuck around long enough to confirm that. You could say I have a slight commitment problem..." His musings drift to the outer regions of my mind, alongside his laughter.
Oh, no. I nibble my lip nervously. He's making sense. He never does that... Why, why, why, of all the times, is he now making sense?
What's worse, is a part of me finds itself agreeing with his insanity. If we're really in a believable relationship, one that's serious enough to reveal to his own father, convincing him of Hayden's maturity and commitment, then we can't do this halfway. I have to move in. But not into his bed. That's where I draw the line.
Which leaves only one plausible compromise...
I avoid his heavy gaze, aware that my next words will likely book me a one-way ticket to his den of temptation. "I'll move in..."
His ramblings stop, and I can already sense the onset of his smug aura going off like a disco ball, radiating triumphant rays across the table, laughing as they touch my skin.
"...but I'm taking a guest room."
His lights go out.
"That's not the compromise I had in mind."
