Page 17 of His Secret Wish

Instead, she took another step back. Her butt was against the bureau, the knob on the top drawer digging into her flesh. She didn’t care.

Without his heat around her, the cold came rushing back, making goosebumps pop out along her skin. She wrapped her arms around herself again, brushing her hands against her upper arms to try to warm herself.

“So,” she said, her voice scarcely more than a husky whisper. “I’m going to grab some blankets and make up my bed.” Yes, ignoring what had just happened was best. Cowardly, sure, but best. For all involved.

He stepped off the bed. The room was so small and crowded, he was now right in her space. She stared up at his face. There was confusion and something she couldn’t quite define in his gaze, something she wasn’t in the right headspace to decipher. Not with her hormones running rampant.

He reached for her, and then at the last second, lowered his hand back to his side. With a sigh, he glanced away, rubbing the back of his neck. When his gaze met hers again, there was a sincerity in it she hadn’t seen in a long time. “I’m sorry about what happened up there.” He waved in the direction of the bed. “I just got caught up in the moment.”

She nodded. “It’s fine.” A ridiculous and phony sounding laugh escaped her. Her cheeks, which were already hot from the incredible kiss, ratcheted up about a million degrees. “It was bound to happen. And this weekend is a bubble, remember? No harm, no foul.” She gave another of those phony laughs, trying not to cringe. “Besides, it just adds more credibility to our story, right?”

His lips turned down into a fierce frown, his eyes frosting over. “Yeah, of course.” The tension between them couldn’t be cut with a recently sharpened chainsaw. He slid his hand through his hair, making it stick up in all directions. “Anyway, I’m just going to go and get ready for bed.”

He snatched his Dopp kit off the dresser, and squeezed by her. By the time she turned around, he was already gone.

Owen’s nose felt like a block of ice on his face. He opened his eyes to nothing but darkness. It took a second to remember where he was. In Isabella’s great grandmother’s attic in Truckee.

And it was fucking freezing.

He was pretty sure that, if he could see anything, his breath would be forming clouds in the air. He knew temperatures here could be wonky, but it was May for God’s sake. It shouldn’t be this fucking cold.

It took a few more moments for his eyes to adjust. Not that it made much of a difference. Everything was still dark, although he could make out the outline of stuff. Then again, maybe that was just wishful thinking on his part.

The house was silent, which was impressive given the amount of people currently crammed into it. One of the bonuses of being on the top floor. He glanced at the clock on the nightstand and checked the time. 1:34am.

He groaned and rolled over to face the room. The springs on the bed creaked, which reminded him of earlier. And that incredible kiss he’d shared with Izzy.

It had been amazing, and completely spontaneous. He hadn’t been lying when he’d told her he’d gotten caught in the moment. She’d been pressed up against him, and they’d been laughing and having a great time. He’d just reacted, and then bam, they were lip to lip.

And then she’d freaked out, and practically leaped off the bed to get away from him. Which was incredibly concerning. If he hadn’t been so lust-filled, he might have called her out on her change of mood, but then the moment passed and he couldn’t say anything without looking like an asshole.

The blankets at the on the bed rustled. A weird ticking noise came from that direction. He held his breath, trying to figure out what it was. It took a couple of seconds, but it finally hit him. Her fucking teeth were chattering.

He tossed back the covers. The icy air sent goosebumps to attention along his skin. He was wearing a tank top and sleep pants, but it almost felt like he was naked. He slid out of bed, wincing when his feet hit the floor. Even the floorboard were frozen. No wonder she was freezing.

“Izzy?” He walked to where she was sleeping and crouched down. “Are you awake?”

“Hmm.”

It was the sound of someone who was in that space between sleep and awake. He reached over and gave her shoulder a gentle shake. “Izzy, it’s too cold for you to sleep on the floor.”

“What?” Her voice was muffled by the blanket she was buried underneath.

“It’s too cold. You need to get in the bed.”

“It’s not too cold.”

He sighed. “I could hear your teeth chattering.”

“Oh.” She sat up and pushed her hair off her face. The dark waves were disheveled and out-of-control. He wanted so badly to slide his fingers into them. Tame them. She blinked up at him. “What time is it?” Her voice was heavy with sleep.

“One thirty.” He held out his hand. “Come on.”

Her gaze traveled from his outstretched hand to his face and then back again. “What?” She sounded more like herself.

“It’s too cold for you to stay on the floor. Get in the bed.”

“And you’ll sleep on the floor?” Her forehead scrunched up.